zoramargolis

Do you know the feeling, when you taste something and you say to yourself: "Damn. It just could not be any better than this"? That was the braised lambshanks I made tonight. American lamb from Union Meats at Eastern Market. Big and meaty. I marinated them for four days in a cooked wine marinade. Browned and set them on a brunoise of aromatic veg and garlic, deglazed the pan and added it and the marinade, homemade stock, balsamic vinegar, a teaspoon of beef base, some soy sauce, a slug each of dry marsala and brandy, and three tablespoons of leftover homemade marinara sauce, bay leaves, Italian parsley and fresh thyme. Braised in a Le Creuset pot in a 275 degree oven for 2 1/2 hours. Removed shanks, strained and degreased the braising liquid and reduced it by more than 50%. Served with cheese grits made with Comte, aged Gouda and roasted garlic, Siberian kale with garlic and red pepper flakes, and roasted cippolini onions with rosemary. 2001 Louis Martini Napa Valley Cab. The meat was melt-in-the mouth succulent, full of flavor and the sauce was a rich deep brown color and was so damn delicious that even after I put the leftovers away, I could hardly bear to wash the pot. I kept scraping the sides with a spatula and licking it so that no smidgin of flavor was lost. The best news is that I made four shanks, and we only ate two of them. Leftovers to die for!

I believe that there is now a law that anyone who sells cider must pasteurize it-- there was a spate of deaths ten or fifteen years ago, from people contracting a particularly nasty form of e-coli from unpasteurized cider that had included some apples that had fallen ("drops"), which had come in contact with cow dung. The fruit growers at the Farmer's Market who sell cider don't actually make the stuff. They haul their apples to a cider mill, where they are mixed with fruit from many other growers, pressed, flash pasteurized and bottled. The only way to get unpasteurized cider is to find someone with their own press, who makes cider for their own consumption. It would be illegal for them to sell it. The stuff sold at the Dupont Circle Farmers' Market is pretty darn good.

The Post gossip column this morning revealed that Dean's celebrity guests the other night were none other than the Bush twins. We now know what they ate (salumi, cheese among other things) And that they bought Dino t-shirts. Wonder what little birdie called the Post to spill all these details? Does this mean that Dino will overtake Smith Point as the new Young DC Republicrat hangout?

I'd like to thank all of the original chosen people who dropped out, so that early rejects like me on the wait list could attend. It was great to finally meet Bilrus, after all of these years of reading his posts on Chowhound, Egullet and DR.com. And we had a great group of wine mavens at our table and the next one over, who brought wonderful wines and shared generously. I don't think enough has been said about the crab bisque, which was the high point of the meal for me. Don't get me wrong, the steak (strip) was very, very good. Deep, beefy flavor with just enough char--beautiful grill marks, too. And perfectly medium rare. But the crab bisque was ambrosial. This dish had the smooth, luxurious consistency that can only be achieved with way too much manufacturing cream (higher butterfat content than ordinary heavy cream). And crab flavor in abundance-- I've had too many wimpy crab dishes that are lacking in crab flavor-- this soup had tons of flavor, and a very generous helping of crabmeat. Too bad Joe Heflin and Michael Landrum apparently can't be in the same room together, because Joe, who is the biggest crab fanatic I've ever met, would have absolutely loved this soup. Kudos to Michael Landrum, who I have now decided to call "The Dervish" because of his amazing whirlwind physical feat of serving, bussing tables and taking care of the needs of more than fifty people by himself, and his powerfully intense focus while simultaneously engaging in good natured banter with his guests. His performance was almost superhuman-- he filled the room with the most appealing kind of male energy. All I can say is-- Michael, I regret that I'm married, monogamous and too old for you...

I wouldn't use half and half at all, if it is going to be cooked for a while and not just added at the last minute. It doesn't have enough butterfat -- I'd use heavy cream or creme fraiche. Milk or half and half can curdle, unless there is some starch to stabilize it. Also, if there is any acidic ingredient like wine or lemon juice in the liquid, it will curdle half and half but not cream.

The swan song of the heritage turkey-- mushroom barley soup. The turkey bones rendered their slightly smoky flavor into a rich stock with white wine, aromatic vegetables and herbs. The next day, strained and degreased, reduced a bit and then brunoise of carrot, parsnip, onion, leek, celery and delicata squash simmered in it. Final step was adding barley, fresh crimini, and dried porcini, shiitake and oyster mushroms and their soaking liquid. Served with chopped fresh herbs- parsley, rosemary, thyme and chives. Perfect on a cold, windy night.

Then, of course, there is the saga of Signatures, owned by Jack Abramoff. He had lots of creative ways of making a restaurant pay dividends...

It's the first CdP I've had that really knocked my socks off. I've had several that received good scores--'99 Guigal, '99 Louis Bernard, 2000 Les Cailloux, '98 Clos du Mont Olivet, 2000 Pierre Usseglio-- and while they were all very good wines, I've had other "lesser" Rhones that I enjoyed as much or more. It is the first individual vineyard CdP I've had, though. They're not in my budget, unfortunately. The VT Le Crau was spectacular.

I put down a $40 deposit on a Polyface Bourbon Red heritage turkey at the Dupont farmers' market, a couple of weeks before T-day. We decided to go all-out for the meal this year, and so $5.99 a pound for a special bird for the meal's centerpiece seemed expensive but do-able. I have to admit I was a bit miffed when I came to pick it up, and paid another $80 for my 20 pound bird and it was frozen. I assumed that for a premium price like that, they would be delivering fresh birds. Since I didn't have a back-up plan and was really curious to experience a heritage bird with all the buzz about them lately, I decided not to make a fuss and ask for my deposit back. It defrosted in my refrig until Wednesday, and then I brined it overnight in an herbed salt-sugar brine with some juniper berries in it. On Thursday, I took it out of the brine and rinsed it, and then let it sit out at room temperature for a few hours, with ice-packs on the breasts, a technique I learned from Harold McGee, which slows down the cooking of the breasts. (I'd done it before--it works!) Then, I oiled the bird with EVOO and set up my Weber Kettle with a drip pan in the center full of white wine, shallots, thyme, bay leaf and parsley, the hot coals around the perimeter. I sprinkled wet applewood chips on the coals and put the bird on to smoke. It cooked for about three hours, without stuffing in it. I had made turkey stock with the neck, giblets and wing tips, and when the turkey came off the grill, I strained the remains of the drip pan into the stock and made the gravy with it. Despite having been frozen, it was the best turkey I've ever made or tasted anywhere else. The meat was dense and juicy, with a deep flavor, neither too smoky or too salty. The thighs were fully cooked and the white meat still had a slightly pink tinge near the bone. For starters, I made roasted squash soup, with blue hubbard, kuri and delicata squashes and bosc pear served with creme fraiche and Meyer lemon olive oil. Chestnut and wild mushroom stuffing (chanterelle, pleurottes, and porcini), creamed pearl onions, garlic mashed potatoes, pureed sweet potatoes with maple and lemon zest, haricots verts with fried almonds. Roasted scarlet turnips. Dessert was pumpkin pie made with orange-spice pate brisee from Sherry Yard's baking book (really good!) with Trickling Springs whipped cream. With the first course, we had a 2003 Lucien Albrecht gewurz, and with the turkey we had a 1995 Elyse Howell Mountain zinfandel (gorgeous) and then opened a 2001 Vieux Telegraphe Chateauneuf-du-Pape Le Crau, brought by my sis and bro-in-law. (Wow!) Great sandwiches for a few days now!

The Times [London] November 18, 2005 Crying shame as streetwise giant radish is cut down in its prime From Richard Lloyd Parry in Tokyo UNTIL it was tragically cut short, the life of Dokonjo Daikon was an inspiration to all who knew him. Born in obscurity, he overcame the sternest of obstacles to rise to prominence in his small town. Loved by his neighbours, he became a symbol of the Japanese virtue of perseverance against the odds. People came from far and wide to wish him well — until a brutal attack this week that left him critically injured. It is all the more remarkable because Little Dai, as he is fondly known, is not a human being, but a plant; a long, thick, white daikon, or Japanese giant radish. For the past few weeks newspaper readers and television viewers have been gripped by the vegetable drama unfolding in the small western town of Aioi. Daikon are among the most common of Japanese edible roots, and Little Dai was remarkable in only one respect: rather than growing in the fields, he was an urban radish who pushed himself up through solid asphalt on a roadside pavement. He first appeared in July and, rather than extracting him and filling in the hole, the local council honoured him with a signboard bearing the words: "Observe with affection". Locals christened him Dokonjo Daikon, "the daikon with fighting spirit", or, more colloquially, "the radish with balls". "People discouraged by tough times were cheered by its tenacity and strong will to live," Jiro Matsuo, the Aioi town spokesman, said. Daikon is a staple of Japanese cooking -- pickled, grated and, above all, cooked with Devil's Tongue jelly and fish sausage in the hearty winter stew known as oden. "This is the time of year when daikon are eaten in oden," wrote the Mainichi newspaper. "But even without being eaten, this daikon provides nutrition for our hearts." Imagine the reaction then when Dokonjo Daikon was decapitated. The attack happened some time during the night last Saturday. Neighbours who came out to check on the heroic tuber found his green leafy crown and the top of his sturdy body were missing. There were tears and outrage. "The source of our energy has been chopped," a local resident told the Mainichi. Even the unknown perpetrator seems to have repented his or her wickedness: three mornings later the daikon's top half appeared again close to its bottom. The town council has taken it into care and placed it in a saucer of water in the hope that it will stay alive and perhaps even flower. But Aioi must come to terms with the painful knowledge that Dokonjo Daikon will be a vegetable for the rest of his life. Eye-watering # In Ancient Greece, a husband was permitted to punish anyone who committed adultery with his wife by forcing a radish up his rectum # Eating too many radishes can cause wind # In Gone With The Wind, the hungry Scarlett O'Hara tries to eat the only food she can find, a radish. She chokes on it and vows: "As God is my witness, I'll never be hungry again." # Pliny the Elder wrote extensively on radishes, although he considered them food for the low-bred # At the Kawasaki annual festival of the penis in Japan, part of the fun is carving penises out of daikon radishes

Equal parts salt and sugar makes a much better basic brine, IMHO. I like to add aromatic herbs to the brine for extra flavor. It doesn't take that much more time to do and really improves the flavor of the bird.

My husband insists that his favorite Thanksgiving-food wine pairing is Gewurztraminer. My mother-in-law doesn't drink red wine, and likes wine with plenty of residual sugar-- she recently "discovered" white zinfandel, and it really floats her boat, bless her heart... I am in the pinot noir-with-roasted-bird camp. Slight wrinkle here, since I am planning to lightly smoke the turkey, which I am doing in the Weber Kettle, so I might need to shift to a zinfandel as a better choice with the smoke. My way of dealing with this is to open several bottles simultaneously, so everyone can be happy. I got an Albrecht gewurz for hub, a German riesling for Mom (I refuse to have white zin on my table), and decisions, decisions, I have numerous options for both pinot (Hartford, Adelsheim, Hangtime, Castle Rock) and zinfandel (1995 Elyse Howell Mtn., Hartford, Seghesio). I also have some Yalumba Museum Reserve Muscat (Parker-98 points) to have with the pumpkin pie. I am probably going to make roasted winter squash soup for a first course, which would pair well with either the gewurz or the riesling. I can then move to red for the main course, and whoever wants to join me, can. My brother-in-law is quite a wine connoisseur, so I will consult with him about which red(s) to open.

It appears that you have the ability to search the Parker database. All I have is my (obviously fallible) memory. Still a terrific rose, esp. for the price.

Found at Costco Pentagon City on a recent visit: 2005 (yes!) Turkey Flat Barossa Valley Rose for $11.99 --Grenache 52% Shiraz 26% Cabernet 16% Dolcetto 6%. Parker gave it 89 points in the just-issued Wine Advocate, though I've never seen him give anything above 89 to a rose. He also lists the retail price as $16. Vibrant salmon pink color. Nose is raspberry, cherry and rose petals. Refreshing acidity and lots of crunchy berry fruit flavors without any noticeable sweetness. Fresh, Fresh, Fresh. I know everyone is thinking rich reds for the cold weather to come, as I am, but this is a terrific afternoon quaffer, and would work well with roasted chicken or fish. I have had two other Turkey Flat wines--the Butcher's Block GSM and the Grenache, both of which are delicious, well-made wines which have gotten high scores from Parker. We opened a bottle on Sunday and I went back on Monday and bought six more, which is about as much as I am buying of anything, due to limited storage.

As far as I know, it is. Tacqueria Tres Reyes is better, and is definitely open for lunch.

To any cooking novices who would like to build their skills, I recommend _The New Making of a Cook_ by Madeleine Kamman, subtitled "The Art, Techniques and Science of Good Cooking." Madame Kamman has run a culinary academy in Boston for many years, and this book is her magnum opus. Here you'll find complete, clear, precise and easily understandable explanations for cooking just about anything. Not simply recipes to follow, but how and why it should be done that way. I learned so much from an earlier book of hers: _The Making of a Cook_ when I was an eager novice, back in the Pleistocene era.

Depth of penetration --now you are entering a different realm of voluptuousness, Don.

First of all, I don't think Wolke is correct in every instance regarding marinating--he is referring to short-time marinades. If you are marinating shortribs for several days, the meat changes color not just on the surface. There wouldn't be so many warnings about not over-marinating meat which can make it mushy, if only the surface of the meat were affected. C.J., I think the only way to truly settle this is for you to do a side-by-side comparison. Get, say, a dozen short ribs and marinate six of them in a cooked wine marinade for three days. On day four, make two pots with the same treatment (ie. aromatics, stock, herbs). Only, use the marinade as part of the braising liquid for the marinated ribs and wine for the unmarinated ribs. Otherwise, do everything the same. My hypothesis is that the marinated ribs will have more depth of flavor. Yours is that there won't be a significant difference. You may need a neutral third party to taste and render a judgement, but I'll bet there'll be some volunteers here.

I think what made this event so popular and what complicates the "just put your name in for the next one and hope for the best" approach is COST. I have had numerous opportunities and invitations to attend special, private dinners at wonderful restaurants that I have had to pass on because of the COST. This one was reasonable, and so I had hoped to go. The meals that are surely sublime, but end up costing $125 or $150 (or more) per person, with wine/corkage and tip are not in my budget. In order that the system as designed ends up with any approximation of fairness, more dinners should be included at the price point of this Ray's the Steaks meal.

Marinating meat that is going to be braised is an optional thing, obviously. It all has to do with depth of flavor. Once in the braising pot, the meat gives flavor to the cooking liquid more than the liquid flavors the meat (think how little flavor is left in chicken meat after it has been in a stockpot for a long time). The endproduct of braising marinated meat is much more flavorful than if it were not marinated--that isn't to say it won't be good, but for depth of flavor fanatics who have the time and inclination to do that extra step, it is worth it.

I meant to ask you whether you do wine marinade raw or cooked. Within the past couple of years, I have become a cooked wine convert--I simmer the wine with onion and herbs before using it as a marinade (and then use the marinade as part of the braising liquid, of course). The nut oil is an interesting idea, though it would not work for me--I am violently allergic to walnuts. I'll stick with EVOO.

Jeff Black was the one who clued me in about not over-reducing. He's huge on intensity of flavor, but thinks the mouth-feel of over-reduced sauces is unpleasant. I've stopped reducing down to an almost-glaze and by using a very little bit of starch or buerre manie, I can get a rich sauce without a starchy taste and the added benefit is that I have enough sauce to be able to be generous with it.

It is our turn to host, and my sis-in-law and bro-in-law, who are involved with two trendy restaurants on Clinton Street in NYC, are coming. They know from food and wine. Mo-in-law will be here too, but she thinks everything is always "dee-lectable" as long as it isn't "too pepp'ry" or "too vineg'ry" and there is wine for her with plenty of residual sugar. Jonathan has declared that Thanksgiving is his favorite holiday, and he doesn't care how much the food costs. So I went ahead and put a deposit down on a Polyface heirloom turkey. Yikes. I can't bring myself to publicly acknowledge the cost of it. And my excruciatingly frugal mother-in-law would have a heart attack if she found out. I'm planning to brine, then lightly smoke it in the Weber kettle, which I have done in years past. It really does take turkey from the good to the sublime. There are hard-and-fast traditions when it comes to Thanksgiving, as far as Jonathan is concerned. So we must have creamed onions. I bought two big clamshells of pearl onions at Costco, and will be blanching and peeling a couple of days in advance--it's so time consuming. We must have stuffing (I have some leeway as to what goes into the stuffing), and gravy, and mashed white potatoes and mashed sweet potatoes, and green beans. And cooked cranberry sauce. Mo-in-law always brings the raw cranberry relish ground up with orange peel that has lots of bitter pith in it that no one eats but her, so on defense I have to make cranberrys so the rest of us'll have some good stuff. And we must have pumpkin pie and pecan pie with fresh whipped cream. I saw a recipe in Saveur for a steamed pumpkin pudding that looked so good, but I dare not introduce such an alien concept to the sacred tradition. It's going to be a lot of work...

Aw, shucks, you're welcome! Sounds like you've gotten the concept of building depth of flavor and taken off with it in an original direction. My cooking schedule was a bit off this week, due to a very bad reaction to a dental procedure. So the Polyface chicken spent two days in the lavender-spiced brine and the Sunnyside short ribs were three days in the cooked wine marinade. We at the chicken last night--simply roasted on a bed of aromatic veg. It was kind of salty, but I have to admit I like it that way. The short ribs were my dinner project today. I browned the ribs and nestled them in a bed of brunoised aromatics--onion, leek, carrot, parsnip, celery and garlic--which had been sweated in olive oil. I deglaised with balsamic vinegar and some of the cooked wine marinade, and added homemade stock, brandy, soy sauce (one of Michel Richard's secret ingredients), and tomato concentrate. Threw in a couple of bay leaves and some fresh thyme, parsley and rosemary on top. The covered pot went into the oven at 275 and stayed there for almost three hours. I removed the ribs, strained the cooking liquid, degreased it, reduced it and thickened with a little tapioca starch. Served with braised kale and Parmesan-cheddar grits. The meat was succulent, and the sauce was rich and slightly sweet-and-sour from the Balsamico. A lot of pots to wash, but it was a great meal. Accompanied by 2003 Capcanes Mas Donis, which was a bit of a disappointment to me after all the excitement about it here and 92 points from Parker. I was expecting it to be more mouth-filling and full-bodied than it was. It was good, mind you. But I'm not running out to buy a case of it.

Stephen -- I hope this time, it'll be a red burgundy. I have to tell you, that after the BlackSalt dinner, there is no question in my mind (if there ever was), that fifty year-old white burgundy, no matter how well cellared, is not drinkable.