Waitman

Isn't that the same kind of accounting that caused the Internet Bubble ?

I like the idea of odd and irresponsible people opening restaurants.

We conducted side-by-side taste tests on vanilla ice cream, on batch using all-natural ingredients from the small farm at the local Farmer's Market -- and a Whole Foods Vanilla Bean -- and a batch using ingredients bought at the local bodega. The general consensus among a dozen foodies was that there frankly wasn't much difference. I picked the expensive batch, at least partially on the basis of texture, but a couple of folks preferred the cheap stuff. Of course, my ice cream is so damn good I could probably make a gourmet bowl with Eagle Brand Milk and powdered eggs. Actually, the other day I tasted my vanilla against Ben and Jerry's, which some cretinous family member had left in the freezer to taunt me. And, frankly, my ice cream rocked B&J's. But I think it had to do more with the recipe and technique than the extra-virgin, hypo-allergenic cows milk I use and the free-range, hand-coddled, artisanal chickens who provide my eggs. What makes the difference -- I believe -- is that I don't scrimp on egg yolks or promiscuously add sugar, and I have no incentive to whip air into my 'scream to make my quart carton look bigger. In other words, I suspect that substituting more pricy ingredients up to a certain level make a difference, but that the skill of the cook and the quality of the recipe are far more important. I'd rather have a good cook cooking a cheap chicken, than a bad cook cooking a great one. (say that five times fast).

You are correct. I had no idea where the venison hallucination came from. I still think you should spill, though.

If you aren't willing to post the name, this is merely an amusing work of ficton or a diverting rant. Your suffering will have helped no one. You should take your shot. Though, admittedly, both chefs who read DR and some of the members can get a little nasty when favorite oxen are gored. Let me show you some of the threads I've been on... I'm guessing Auberge Chez Francoise, not because I've ever heard anything particularly bad about them, but because your tale seems like the kind of bad service specific to highly- (over-?) rated French places, and the venison and parsnips seem very "auberge-ish." The wine thing seems a little too multicultural for Auberge, though: seems like if they had any kind of Syrah on the list it would be in the form of a Chateauneuf-du-Pape and the whole Shiraz (Aussie)/Petite Syrah (Cali) battle would never have have been joined. Tell us, though -- otherwise you won't have had any fun out of your dinner.

On New Year's Eve, every restaurant employee in the city will be at work, it comes with the territory. Of course, for FOH types it's usually a pretty sweet payday. And, if you happen to work in a bar, no one has to go home alone.

Buy a bottle of champagne and a couple ounces of caviar and stay the heck home. You'll have a much happier night.

Saturday will be Sebastion's last night at Komi.

Sala Thai, delivers, as do City Lights of China and Meiwah (which I prefer) deliver, as well. I also like the Chicken Wings from Philadelphia Pizza, and am OK with their cheesesteaks and gyros, but others disagree.

At least I'm consistent.

Spacy, absent-minded, lightweight, half-baked.

I was in Whole Foods to pick up a pork butt -- we don't do turkey Chez Waitman -- and notices that they had rolled and stuffed turkey breasts behind the meat counter. Just a thought for those cooking for few.

Pull the onglets out of the fridge an hour before you intend to cook them. Then pan roast however you see fit. A good topping if you don't have stock or want to deglaze, is to throw baked garlic, anchovies and butter into the food processor and make a killer compound butter. A better topping, if you have beef stock around, is roasted garlic and anchovies smashed or pureeed together and thrown ito the pan you roasted the beef in, with red wine and stock, until it boils down into an oozy mess. Finish with a little butter, bien sur and a fistfull of capers. Shallot sauce is a classic: slow-cook minced shallots -- many more than you think you'll need -- and then hit them with red wine and beef stock. Finish with red wine vinegar and butter.

I close my eyes and do it for England.

I don't know -- if my brother likes salad bar joints and my buddy likes "authentic" Italian, down to the squishy garlic bread and the bad chianti, I don't think it's my place, outside of the normal "I don't know, where do you want to go" negotiations to start unloading my greater "authority". If someone tried that on me, I'd tell them to kiss off -- again, unless I had asked their advice. I know for a fact that some of my acquaintences cringe when I get to choose the restaurant, and that's fine. We take turns. People have every right to be as put off by my taste as I have to be put of by theirs. And those secret martinis -- they make everything better. Brabara -- by coincidence, the Waitfamily has been to Helen's. It is indeed breathtakingly unfortunate. I suggest you take your cousin to Joy America Cafe in the American Visionary Art Museum for revenge. Weird food, mango martinis and art by crazy people -- it's the anti-Helens.

Authority is relevant when bantering on a board such as this, or hanging with like-minded people. When picking a restaurant among friends or relatives, it is irrelevent (unless, of course, you are asked).

Aren't we superior today. With a friend's choice in restaurants, as with a friend's home cooking, the only proper response to what you feel is a horrible mistake is to smile, enjoy your friend's company, and suck it up. Surrepticious martinis beforehand and a baguette and cheese after will help. The fact that one has a nuanced palate, far-flung wine expertise and a platinum card does not in the greater scheme of things give one greater moral leverage in choosing a restaurant, than one's friend's passionate addiction to deep-fried MSG.

"So," he said, a trollish grin spreading across his face, "if the money's there, the kids are well-behaved and there's plenty room for yet another Long John Silver's, and good restaurants still don't move to the suburbs, the problem must be with the suburbanites themsleves, right?" (Don't hit me, Raisa!) Or, are hip, talented chefs deterred by by outdated stereotypes of self-centered, mini-mansion dwelling drones too busy making partner and ferrying Madison to ballet, flute and soccer to appreciate a decent meal? Brendan? Another thought: evil strip mall developers who won't lease good space to an independent because they want the guaranteed revenue stream of chain. Finally, you think Northern Va has it bad, the affluent yet largely African American areas of PG County -- Fort Washington, say -- are a veritable dining desert.

"...it's supposed to be authentic Neapolitan pie... If you don't want Neapolitan-style pie, go somewhere else." -- JPWI order my 2 Amys with extra sauce. Fortunately, they forgot to instruct the employees to snarl if someone questions Pastan's genius or endangers his AOC status. To tell you the truth, I'm a Vace guy myself, if I'm just mainlining 'za, but I like 2A's other offerings quite bit.

Don't know if you've made your NYC jaunt yet, but Babbo also sets aside some tables for walk-ins. If you don't mind eating early you can show up when they open the doors and get on the list, and it shouldn't take too long to get seated. You may be able to pull the same deal and eat late, but I'd worry that they'd run out of tables and close down before they got to you.

Extra toppings.......? No pizza for you! (Authenticity is much-overrated)

I would never discuss a lady's age. Even well-behaved kids add expense and can be a pain. They have conflicting schedules. They have conflicting tastes. They're good for an hour, but not an hour-and-a-half. They're unadventurous (yeah, I know, we all know/have kids who will eat anything, but I find them to be the exception) and grease-addicted. The don't want to put on a shirt with no stains and jeans with no holes. They tease one another. And, often, they'd just as soon have a pizza as mu shi pork. I'm not saying kids make restaurant dining impossible or undesireable. But the sure as heck add new variables to the go out/stay in equation.

"Wealthy Prince William County home buyers are heading west in search of land, but that land isn't cheap. Homes sitting on large lots helped drive up the median sales price of townhouses and single-family homes in the county by 26.3 percent, to $303,000, in 2004 from $240,000 in 2003, according to a Washington Post analysis based on county sales records. " -- WaPo 3/23/05 I'd guess that the correlation has to do with household size and age. Apartment-dwellers would be more likely to be young and single, to construct their social life around getting the hell out of the apartment, and perhaps less worried about saving for a rainy day (being young and childless). Homeowners would be more likely to have kids (making restaurant dining challenging and expensive), less free time ("just call Dominoe's") and more likely to have a good kitchen and things to do and people to see around the house.

Actually, when travelling alone -- and while dining in DC, occasionally -- I like nothing better than stumbling across a group of loud, drunk, smokers while trying to get a meal. Beats the hell out of sitting in the hotel room watching pay-per-view.

My experience (an my son's, whose prom-night dinner was pushed back more than an hour) with the Heritage Wisconsin location leads me to believe that every word in the rant was true. There isn't, in my experience, a top restaurant in the city whose service is as bad as Heritage. I would, however, upgrade them to merely "sloppy" at their best, rather than "gruff and pushy."