Dmnkly

That's the one. About a block east of 95 just off Washington.

Nothing could be quicker and easier than hitting Bull on the Run for a pit beef. Just off 95, nice wide access road, big office lots to easily turn around and plenty of room to just pull up next to the wagon and hop out for a sandwich.

One actual injury and one near injury, none nearly as gory as the current points leaders, but good stories nonetheless. The first, a typical chopping accident. Serious, but not ridiculous. Lopped off my left middle fingertip along with a good chunk of nail (worse than it sounds... I bite my fingernails way down). It occured to me that the piece might be large enough to reattach. The problem was that I was rough-chopping garlic and green onions at the time which, like a chunk of digital flesh once removed from its blood supply, are quite white. I had to resort to tasting multiple specimens to determine which was my finger. I also narrowly averted what surely would have been the winner. I was slicing something with one of those flexible, serrated ginsu fishing knives with the two sharp prongs on the tip. I knocked something onto the floor to my left, and turned and lunged rather quickly -- a horribly unsafe speed, really -- to retrieve it. This is a little difficult to explain, but in the process of making this motion, my right hand, which held the knife, caught on the edge of the counter just as I bent over to retrieve the object, the end result being that my haste and physical bungling had resulted in my face lunging very rapidly and with great force straight towards the two-pronged tip of a ginsu knife that was firmly planted on the counter. Just as my reflexes kicked in and I yanked my head backwards with all my might, I felt the tip of the blade nick my right eyelash. If not for years spent playing video games, I would've lodged that thing deep in my right eye socket. Only later did it occur to me that when the investigators examined my corpse, they would have found me dead on the kitchen floor, a ginsu knife shoved through my eye and deep into my skull, nobody's prints on the kinfe but mine, and all of the doors and windows closed and locked from the inside. So while I suppose I would have been the winner, none of you ever would have known it.

That's funny. They've done both rare and medium rare for me within the past two months. Too slow or too lazy to keep all options available, perhaps? My exact experience with the fries, however.

YES!

When I was in Faidley's this week, I also saw large styrofoam cartons marked with pictures of crabs and "PRODUCT OF VENEZUELA". Whether that was for the crabcakes or something else, I don't know. But I was under the impression that almost nobody uses local anymore, including the sacred cows. I was talking to Steve down at Mr. Bill's a couple of weeks ago, and he said he rarely gets local himself, not because of availability or cost, but because of quality. He felt the gulf crabs were heavier and tastier. Whether that's objective wisdom or an excuse, I can't say.

Read your earlier post about it this morning, had one for lunch today... as advertised :-)

Well, as a recent import this is of great interest to me. I haven't done the full crabcake survey yet, but I'm trying to familiarize myself with the conventions. Faidley's rocked my world and granted me immediate understanding of why all Marylanders (?) I've known have simply scoffed at crabcakes elsewhere in the country. But when I was doing the apartment hunt a few months back, I also stopped by G&M. As an outsider, I don't get it at all. It struck me less as a crabcake and more as a pile of vaguely warm, very wet, mayonaise-y crab salad. I was there on Mother's Day and it was a total zoo, so I'm committed to returning on the assumption that I caught a bad plate. But is that how they're supposed to be? If so, count me in the camp that doesn't find G&M appealing at all.

This is addressed directly in the article, The suggestion is that the restaurant ought to be able to ensure the bartender gets an appropriate cut of the gratuity.

Not sure whether you mean the full-on spit-roasted beast or its deli derivatives. If the latter, Il Scalino in Baltimore's Little Italy has as good a deli version as I've sampled. If the former, do let me know when you find it :-)

I just grabbed lunch at Bull on the Run. It's a little red mobile kitchen on an access road off the 3700 block of Washington Blvd. in Halethorpe, but I thought it turned out a much nicer sandwich than Chaps. I found the beef fresher tasting and more tender. I'd even give them the edge on toppings - onion was very fresh and paper thin, I liked their tiger sauce a lot more and they had a number of bottled sauces available (didn't try the BBQ). I liked the character of Chaps' crust more, but I only got enough of that on one out of six or seven visits. I'd want to try both a few more times before being definitive about either, but at the moment I know where my preferences lie. It's a little tricky to spot. Look for this:

The 'cue was calling to me this afternoon, so I popped in to give Andy Nelson's a try for the first time. Two disclaimers: 1) I have some BBQ experience, but it's by no means extensive, and 2) my standby back home in Chicago was tips, with all of the accompanying fat, gristle and flavor. I tried a three bone sampler and the pulled pork. I enjoyed the ribs, but I couldn't get worked up over them. Nice rub. Nicer texture, tender but still with some character and bite. The sauce was a little low-key for my tastes, and the meat itself was lacking a certain unctuous quality that, as mentioned, may simply be due to my preference for tips. I also would've like them smokier. Solid, if unspectacular. The pulled pork disappointed me a little. Competent, I suppose, but boring. Tender and undeniably porky, but totally lacking character. Might as well have been roasted. Contrast with other places I've been where there's a little char, a little bark, some rub in there, more texture -- I just couldn't get into it. Of course, I'm aware of the BBQ's variable nature day-to-day or even hour-to-hour, so take this as the single data point it is.

Since this thread was just bumped, I figured I'd share that I had an utterly fantastic few days in Tampa a few months back. I can't say I'm a big fan of the city itself, but there's no denying day two was one of the best eating days I've had in a long time. I don't know that a total rehash of my blogging for that few days is appropriate, but here are a few highlights: Cuban Sandwich at La Teresita Straight-up Cuban counter diner fare near the airport, accompanied by a porky garbanzo soup (not pictured). A good Cuban is one of those things that's greater than the sum of its parts. Though I haven't sampled a Miami-style Cuban in its native environs, I think I'm a fan of the Tampa variant. The bread is generally lighter, crispier -- less heavy and lardy. Anyway, if you're looking for some good, simple Cuban (and you should be, if you're visiting Tampa), this is a great spot. Devil Crab at Florida Bakery Acquired about a block down the street from La Teresita, devil crabs are native to Tampa. Composed of the leftovers of two local industries, the filling is made of crab, onions, tomatoes, garlic and a wackyload of vinegar, while the crumbly crust is made from leftover sandwich bread. It's a really enjoyable little snack with a lot of kick, both of the tart and spicy variety. Peel and Eat Shrimp at Rusty Bellies Really, anything from Rusty Bellies (in Tarpon Springs) is fantastic. The folks who run the place have their own dayboats (which they built by hand!), so just about everything you eat there was swimming earlier in the day. But even setting aside the astounding freshness, they treat everything perfectly, which is to say minimally. These shrimp and the fried grouper sandwich were standouts. Beef Martini Sandwich at Wright's Gourmet House Nothing fancy here, just freaking good. Their specialties are the kind that make me think they have a team of grandmothers in the back. They're the kind of sandwiches I'd never make -- white bread, butter, pickles, etc. -- but they're awesome. I tried the Beef Martini shown here, with roast beef, bacon and mushrooms that had been sauteed in butter, herbs and wine, and I also really dug the Golden Gate (not pictured), with roast pork, bacon, swiss, german dill pickles, mustard sauce and an awesome, fresh, chunky peach chutney. Smoked Mullet at Ted Peters But if I had one meal in Tampa / St. Pete's, this is the one I'd do. Kick ass smoked mullet on the side of a four lane highway. Admittedly, my experience with smoked fish is limited, but I can't imagine it gets much (if any) better than this. Nothing fancy. Just a whole mullet that's been infused with about seven trees' worth of smoke. I gave it a little shot of lemon, and that was all it needed. They also make a really mean fish salad with the same mullet.

Respectfully, Poivrot, there is nothing at all analogous about this example, or the transmission example. The diner is not sitting in the kitchen appreciating how carefully the chef maintains the water's tempature over fire, or marveling over the beauty of the pig's bladder. Part of wearing a watch the appreciation of its beauty, its balance, its heft, and perhaps even the gentle whir as its finely-crafted parts dance, but none of that will be appreciated by the fellow who stops you on the street to ask you the time. There's an exhilirating connection with the car when you're using a manual, but the guy who's package you're delivering will never know the nature of the transmission. If a sealed and gently sub-boiled protein is placed on your dish in a capable restaurant, I express doubt that you could distinguish between one sealed in plastic and one poached in a pig's bladder. Perhaps I'm wrong, but call me skeptical. And if I am wrong, then this is a different discussion. Of course I agree that many activities lose aesthetics in the name of progress (though it's important to note that what some call a loss of aesthetics is often simply a change in aesthetics and entirely subject to personal taste). And I agree that a chef preparing a sous vide dish may lose a certain connection with his product that he might enjoy by other similar, older methods, but I fail to see how the diner could even be sufficiently aware of the difference, much less appreciate it. In any case, I'm with you in one regard. A kitchen possessed solely of vacuum bags and immersion circulators has lost a great something. But it seems to me that a Jetsons kitchen that eschews fire and pans simply because they're "old technology" is losing just as much as a traditional kitchen that eschews sous vide simply because it's "science fiction". Pots and pans and plastic baggies aren't dogma. They're tools. And the wise artist considers and respects the unique benefits of all the tools available so that he may best express his vision, even if he doesn't find that every tool is suited to his personal style.

I appreciate this preference, and in most cases share it, but are you certain this is, in fact, disdain for an inferior shortcut and not simply a fear of any cooking technique not invented or refined in 19th century France? I've had a fair number of sous vide dishes, but have prepared precisely none, and as such I'm not sure I feel comfortable making any judgment as to whether it's superior/inferior/merely easier when compared to similar, more classic techniques. But if sous vide can produce similar results with the only difference being that it's idiotproof, how does this undercut its value as a technique? Why is it not simply another tool, as capable as any other of being used or abused? If a technique (method) that bypasses technique (mastery) is the devil, then why not raze the world's kitchens and simply supply our master chefs with bonfires and sharpened sticks?

Uni is one of those things where, if it's really good and fresh, it's surprisingly mild and inoffensive. If it's bad, it's BAAAAAAAAAAAAAD. My hunch is that your uni wasn't so good, and I'd give it another shot the next time you're at a place where you can be absolutely assured you're getting good stuff. Even places that have very nice fish, in my experience, often have trouble getting good uni. For the record, I adore uni. It may be my favorite standard sushi bar item (killer bluefin otoro aside, of course :-). I've always thought it was somewhat reminiscent of egg yolks, actually... slightly briny egg yolks.

Sooooooooo, in a timed race challenge where he isn't asked to remove the oysters and nobody's going to be eating the product, the truly passionate chef is supposed to handicap his team just so he can assert his chefly pride by performing an additional task that is completely meaningless within the context of the situation? Or am I not understanding the criticism?

This is funny timing... I visited Chaps for the first time last weekend, and the consensus at our table was that the fries were, in fact, the worst we'd ever had, and we didn't mean it as hyperbole. They were total mush with no crisp or crunch of any kind, as though they'd been soaked in warm grease rather than fried in hot grease, and they had a very stale flavor. And I'm somebody who appreciates soft, greasy fries... but still, you want some kind of light crispness at least on the edges, and a good potatoey flavor. I rather enjoyed the sandwich, but made a mental note to never order the fries again. I'd be thrilled to hear that our experience was an aberration. I intend to return, and what's a beef sandwich without some fries? :-)

I'm in! As a new arrival, I'm in precisely zero position to suggestion a location. Looking forward to it :-)

New to the 'hood and anxious to find a good taqueria close to home base, I took your rec and popped by twice this week, 1000yregg. (Photos are of the click to enlarge variety) Right on, these are some really nice tortillas -- fresh, moist and light. It's a tiny little joint with a counter that can seat about eight, provided they get pretty cozy. The tortilla machine (quite the beast) is in plain view just behind the counter. I haven't been in while it was churning, but I imagine it isn't very quiet. They were apparently done for the day by my lunchtime at 11:30, however, so unless you're doing breakfast it's a pleasant little place to stop in for a bite. Though I dug the tortillas, I was a little less enthused by the tacos, but please don't take that to mean that I thought ill of them. Over the two visits I sampled the res, pollo and carnitas and thought they were nicely seasoned, but missing something. From what I can tell glancing over the counter, the precooked fillings are chopped and added to the warm tortillas without any further prep. I don't mean to suggest that holding taco fillings isn't perfectly kosher, but Sinaloa doesn't appear to do anything to refresh them. Perhaps I'm becoming a little too accustomed to late-night greasy taquerias, but I'd enjoy the tacos a lot more if both tortillas and fillings were kissed by the griddle before serving. I didn't sample the soups, but I did give the ceviche a try. It left a lot to be desired. I identified octopus and shrimp, though there were other seafoody bits of indeterminate origin, along with the requisite onion, tomato and cilantro. But it was mostly watery and underseasoned. It did, however, give me a chance to sample the chips, which are really wonderful. They're thick and strong, but still very light, crisp and layered, almost like a fine pastry. Great chips. I assume some of the other taquerias nearby use the Sinaloa tortillas, so I'll keep searching for now. But this is a great little spot, and undoubtedly where I'll be going for tortillas and chips. You can't buy less than the stack of tortillas pictured above, but at $1.70/kilo you could wipe your counters with the leftovers and they'd still probably be cheaper than paper towels :-)