Keeping Cool, but Staying Sober

Sorry, it sounds like I have joined a 12 step program. But I couldn't resist the alliteration and the reference to a previous post.

Seattle has been hot, hot, hot. Now I know the rest of the country has been hot, but you are dealing with a narcissistic Seattlite here. We don't have hot weather here, in fact, the great joy of Seattle is that there isn't any extreme weather here, except extremely beautiful and wonderful summers. Except this year.

Dale has been keeping me refreshed with his southern-style ice tea while I build the "cabana" on the roof terrace, and figure out how to install the drip irrigation system. Short of wearing my Camelback all day, I needed some other source of hydration than iced tea, so I have been supplying him with my own repertoire of iced drinks.

I love international travel, but Italy is my true love. The architecture, the food, the men, the language, the violent but art-filled culture, the clothes, the cars, the design, the history--it just goes on. France is wonderful, and the food at amny times beats Italy. Oddly, the only country that comes close is Japan, but more on that later. While I was working at Hadrian's Villa on an architectural dig, I was introduced to a most wonderful coffee beverage. No one can remember the name, but I thought it was a shakelatta. I probably am wrong. Anyway, it is best prepared by a younger and robust man, rather than the old men at the Italian coffee bars. The younger guys just put more energy into the preparation, and the result is so much better. An espresso shot is poured over ice into a martini shaker. A bit of sugar is added--your usual amount or to taste--and then the cap is secured. The barista then shakes the shaker vigorously for about 10 seconds, and this where the old guys peter out. They can't muster the energy to shake hard. When you pour the contents into a small glass, varying shades of brown foam layer over the icy luscious elixir. If it is only a so-so job of shaking, then the foam will be flat; but if the maker is a frustrated bartender working in a coffee shop, then he will shine, and the drink will amazing. Enjoy, and if you know the name, let me know.

When I went to Japan a few years ago, nothing had prepared me for the trip, albeit I had read Gateway to Japan, by Kinoshita/Palevsky, probably the best travel guidebook I have read in my adult life. The culture, religion, feudal wars, emphasis on food, national drink (tea), art, architecture and landscaping can only compare to Italy.

We went to the Ippodo Tea House, which has been in business since 1717. It deals only in the high quality teas of Uji. The building is an historic building, one of many original stores that have been preserved through the ages. While there we ordered many teas, but in that humidity, this frozen ice tea Ujishimizu made from wonderful matcha tea beat them all for pure refreshment.
You simply add water and ice or yogurt to a few teaspoons of the Ujishimizu and stir. It seems a little self-indulgent to order tea from Japan, but good quality tea is pretty expensive and the mark up is pretty high at these little boutique stores. Plus you never know what you are getting. The name and the package look/sound cool, but the product inside is gross.

But the quality of Ippodo is the highest (Mariage Frere has some of the worst green tea I have ever tasted), and the packaging is amazing. Order a little tin of matcha for a tea ceremony, and marvel at the wrapping as you unfold each layer of paper like so many petals. Matcha is not for everyone--planning a tea ceremony?--but with a little sugar as in Ujishimizu, you'll never look at ice tea again the same way.


Seattle NPR station KUOW did a special on iced tea and provided the following link to the guest speakers.

http://kuow.org/defaultProgram.asp?ID=11212
http://www.floatingleaves.com/Rob Bageant is the co-owner of Floating Leaves Tea; a Chinese tea house in Ballard.
http://seattleteacup.com/Merchant2/merchant.mvc?Screen=SFNT&Store_Code=T Elisabeth Knottingham is the owner of the Tea Cup on Queen Anne.

Tea houses http://www.nwsource.com/restaurants/guides/teahouses.html

Caramel French Toast

This one is a hard one to photograph as the food is all gone before the camera is powered up! This will be perfect to serve to Tom and Larry as Larry embarks on the oh-so-tired Atkins diet.

When I make the Cooks Illustrated Breakfast Strata, there are no leftovers. It is one of the first dishes gone. Creamy, but with a slight bite, full of rich savory flavors, but not heavy, it perfectly fits the bill for brunch and soothes any possible hangovers from the night prior. It was guaranteed compliments and sighs of satisfaction--until it went up against Caramel French Toast, then King Sugar once again showed his reign over the American table.

We had rented the wonderfully refurbished beach house at Alki Beach for some friends’ going away party. It was a perfect June day by any standards, with the sunshine shimmering over the sea, children playing on the beach, and a parasailer soaring the sea breezes. Can you think of a better setting for a going away from Seattle party than where the settlers first landed? There was freshly made biscotti, pastries, fruit, Ezells’ fried chicken, my strata, and of course, Caramel French Toast.

My strata was in a 9x9 pan, and a few slices were gone by the time another guest unobtrusively placed a lasagna pan of bread gilded with brown sugar and butter. Within minutes, entire chunks were gone. As I watched its edges erode like a Florida seawall, and as I took my own second helping, I knew that I had a new favorite to serve at brunch.

Caramel French Toast

It’s a great dish to prepare to take to weekend house parties as no additional syrup or butter is needed, and you don’t need to worry about fickle ovens. And although over 500,000 entries came up when I googled the name, this recipe from that guest is one of the few that calls for an entire tablespoon of vanilla.

1 ½ cups firmly packed brown sugar
¾ cup butter
¼ cup + 2 tablespoons corn syrup
12 slices multi-grain or Orowheat Oatnut bread, cut into 4 pieces each
4 eggs, beaten
2 ½ cups milk
1 tablespoon vanilla extract
¼ teaspoon salt
3 tablespoons sugar
1 ½ tablespoons cinnamon
¼ cup butter, melted

1. Combine brown sugar, butter and corn syrup in a saucepan. Cook over medium heat, stirring constantly, for 5 minutes or until mixture is bubbly.

2. Pour syrup evenly into a greased 9 by 13 inch baking dish. Arrange half of the bread slices over syrup.

3. Combine eggs, milk, vanilla, salt, half of the sugar and half of the cinnamon; stir well. Slowly pour over bread slices. Add the remaing bread slices and pour the remaining egg mixture over them. Cover and chill for at least 8 hours or overnight.

4. When ready to bake, combine the remaining sugar and cinnamon, and sprinkle evenly over the soaked bread. Drizzle with the remaining butter.

5. Bake uncovered, at 350 for 45-50 minutes or until brown and bubbly.

BTW: Did French toast get renamed to Freedom Toast?

A Pasta for Favorite Company: Alain Ducasse’s Olive Mill Pasta

A red, white and green pasta was called for in celebration of Italy’s victory. And so I turned to my favorite pasta dish, Alain Ducasse’s Olive Mill Pasta. Aside from the Parkhurst Pear recipe, this remains the all time most requested recipe of my modest repertoire.

As humble as the ingredients may be, it does not pay to cheat and use cheap pasta. “[U]se a high-quality hard-wheat pasta, a pasta made with old-fashioned bronze dies. It's usually labeled "artisanal." That kind of pasta has the best flavor and also a rougher texture, so it can grab the sauce.” Ditto using cheap stock or just plain water or worse, bullion cubes. See below for more information on artisinal pasta.

The technique is basically the same as risotto, but not as monotonous. Begin with a soffritto, add the potatoes, then pasta and stock and remaining ingredients. Its almost a cross between risotto and stew, and as satisfying as both.

Tasty, delicious, and simple in presentation as well as execution it lends itself to any informal gathering. And if you have everything prepped before guests arrive, then cooking for friends is every bit the pleasure it is supposed to be: “You're not just standing there waiting for a big pot of water to boil, and then waiting for the macaroni to cook, and then applying a sauce. You are participating every step of the way, stirring, seasoning, reducing the liquid, enjoying the warmth and aromas around you, trusting your palate and then sharing what you have prepared with others.”

This recipe originally appeared in the New York Times by Florence Fabricant and is now available in The Chefs of the Times.

Olive Mill Pasta Adapted from Alain Ducasse

Time: 45 minutes
Yield: 4 servings

1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil
4 tablespoons butter
2 medium-small onions, minced
1/4 pound fingerling potatoes, peeled and sliced 1/4-inch thick (small red potatoes work well, too)
1 garlic clove, peeled and minced
5 1/2 cups, approximately, vegetable or light chicken stock
14 ounces artisanal strozzapreti pasta
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 medium-size ripe tomatoes, peeled, seeded, juiced and diced, or 2/3 cup diced sun-dried tomatoes, not oil-cured, covered with boiling water and drained
1 garlic clove, peeled and crushed
8 branches fresh basil or arugula, leaves removed and slivered, stems lightly crushed
1 bunch scallions, trimmed, slant-cut in 1-inch pieces
3 ounces freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese, about 1 cup.



1. Heat 1/4 cup oil in a 10-inch sauté pan. Add butter. When it melts, add onions and potatoes. Cook, stirring gently, over medium heat until they begin to turn golden. Add minced garlic, and cook one minute longer.
2. In a small saucepan, bring stock to a slow simmer.
3. Add pasta to sauté pan, and stir gently. Lightly season with salt and pepper, and add tomatoes, crushed garlic and herb stems. Add 1 1/2 cups stock. Cook, stirring gently, until nearly all stock has evaporated. Add scallions and another cup of stock, and cook, stirring, adding additional stock from time to time, so there is always some liquid in the pan, until pasta is al dente, about 18 minutes. Remove garlic and herb stems.
4. Fold in cheese and all but 1 tablespoon remaining oil. Add slivered herbs. Season with additional salt and pepper if needed. Transfer to warm soup plates, taking care that the ingredients are well distributed. Drizzle remaining oil over each and serve.

Yield: 4 servings.

----------------

The Peduzzi brothers carry on the tradition of artisan pasta started by their grandfather in the 80 year old family-owned company, Rustichella d' Abruzzo, in Penne in the province of Pescara.
What makes Rustichella d' Abruzzo different from all other pastas and so worth the price? Two natural, ancient ingredients: stone-ground durum wheat flour from hard winter wheat and pure mountain water, and the use of bronze molds. (And the packaging!—when I purchase a bag of this, I wonder if this is how people feel when they walk out of Tiffany’s with little blue boxes.)

Rustichella d'Abruzzo uses a high gluten durum wheat semolina mixed with pure mountain water to give a unique flavor and toughness to the pasta. The hand-crafted pasta is extruded through highly prized bronze molds. These molds have enough texture that sauces will cling better to the extruded more roughly-textured pasta unlike most pasta which is shot through slick molds with modern speed and efficiency. The pasta is then dried slowly at low temperature for up to 50 hours at 35 degrees. (Typical industrial standard is 4-5 hours at 90 degrees.)

All of this care has been rewarded with an ISO 9002 certificate and a most delicious pasta.

Visit their website for more information and some unique recipes that highlight this artisinal pasta.

The best roast chicken--coming soon

Did I win the highest accolade of all when Dale proclaimed that I had made the best roast chicken of his life? Coming soon, Russ Parson's dissection of a Zuni Cafe Roast Chicken.

No Reservations at a Seattle Gypsy Dinner

I am one of those shark-like people that has to keep moving so he doesn’t die. This movement, of course, involves eating. I need constant nourishment, otherwise mood swings kick in and poor decisions. But yesterday, I had a meal that not only had me groaning as I lifted the last cinnamon-cream profiterole to my mouth, but has kept me from breakfast, lunch, and dinner today.

I had been invited to participate in a dress rehearsal dinner for Seattle’s premier if not only underground (ie, not legal) restaurant Gypsy (or click here). Gypsy is like a rave or a high school kegger—you have to know somebody to get in. It is like a dining club, similar to the Rainier Club or the Tower Club or the Ruins, but rather than being about society, a view, or faux exclusivity, it is about the food: sharing, tasting, enjoying, and discussing. Dinner may be in a private home at long communal tables or improvised two tops, or in larger rented spaces with professional kitchens.

As an architect, I know that the interior design has a great bearing on the atmosphere, but I also know that a lot of restaurant design sucks: too thematic, forced, or downright tacky. Yet, somehow in these makeshift restaurants, a multitude of sins is forgiven, including the no-credit cards policy.

I had heard about these sort of places before, most notably in the New York Times article Psst ... Alice Waters Sent Me which tracked several illegal restaurants of varying styles and price points. I initially had difficulty in finding out if Seattle had one, but once I found out the name, it was only a Google search away. And once I found the secret, it was as clear as the DaVinci Code, only better written.

I sent off an email for an application, and was a little dazed by the number of questions it asked. But then try shutting me up about food and myself. The reply "You sound cool! You're in!" had a tone that promised lots of fun, irreverent or otherwise. Later, emails would arrive out of the blue, with last minute openings or updated chef schedules. I admit getting a jump on the invites was the final, most compelling reason for getting the BlackBerry. Luckily for us, they are usually on Sunday, a school night, so we don't make it over there as often as we wish. But yesterday....

The rehearsal dinner was a trial run for Anthony Bourdain, author of Kitchen Confidential and the Nasty Bits: Collected Cuts, Useable Trim, Scraps and Bones, and we were being asked to give feed back on the food and wine pairings. Bourdain was in town filming footage here for his show No Reservations, and through a long string of communications, was on the trail of Gypsy. Gabriel Claycamp of Culinary Communion led the kitchen, and new Seattleite and Walla Wallian master sommelier Greg Harrington of Gramercy Wineries paired the food with some amazing wines. Desserts were by Dana Bickford of Earth and Ocean.

I immediatley was offered a glass of wine, but I passed since I predicted a rough work week ahead. But as we sat down to dinner and Champagne was poured for the amuse bouche, my defenses fell. I am not a big wine guy, and truth be told, while I like hearing professionals talk about it, non professionals annoy the bejeezes out me with their wine talk. This is all to lead up to the fact I took only a few notes on the wine (a Chateauneuf du Pape, a Chablis and about 25 others). But they were all good, although it was interesting how sometimes wine fell totally flat or trounced all the food. Greg Harrington was sampling away as well, and it was curious to watch him "work," as he filed away good and bad pairings and thought up alternatives for the latter.

What kinds of twists of fortune lead one to become a master sommelier? It can't just be excellent taste buds and the ability to articulate. Think of the poor guy stuck in Flint who has no idea that his party trick of being able to distinguish between a Bud 40 ouncer vs a bottle vs long neck vs a can vs a keg could be parlayed into the dream job of many deluded oenophiles.

Back to the dinner: The dinner was divided into two alternating menus, the Gold and the Silver (see below), so my first course was a cone filled with lamb tartar and a goat's milk foam. To my left and right were plates of foie gras brulee. The lamb had a distinctly middle eastern flavor, and the foam was, um, foam. (More on foams and Adria Ferran later, and I do mean more.) I didn't get a taste of the foie gras, but I resolved to be bolder in sampling other people’s plates.

The Watermelon Gazpacho was different, but tasty. The Geoduck fritter was probably the best I have ever had--must get that recipe. The bisque was a garnish for the fritter, not the planned other way around. The Copper River Salmon Carpaccio was a delight on the eye and the palate. (Hey it looks good even in my photo!) I think there were two kinds of salmon, probably King and Sockeye.

The highlight of the evening though came not in the form of foie gras, truffles, or some rich piece of meat. It was the marrow fritter and the "pho" with tendons. The marrow looked like a large Tater Tot, but one bite convinced me that this was destined to be eaten again and again. As for the tendons, well, I have avoided tendon pho on our weekly trips to the pho restaurant. But my God were they good in Chef Claycamp's preparation: tender, slightly gelatinous, they were slap in the face that I need to get over many more food phobias.

I have listed two other dinners that we attended. The second (actually our first Gypsy dinner) featured Italian chef Antonio Petruzzi. We were seated at a large communal table with 7 others. Communal tables still give me the hebegeebies—must be that high school thing. The others at the table were older couples, and they all seemed to know one another. But when two of the women began ogling Antonio, and one of the same, after her first bite of the Naked Ricotta Cheese and Spinach Quenelles in Pecorino Sauce with Sauteed Morels, exclaimed that her mouth was having an orgasm, we knew we were at the right table. We laughed and joked, and ate, and ate and laughed more. And it was at this dinner that Dale discovered that he loved authentic absinthe.

The New Years Eve dinner was a riot. An eastside commercial space had been transformed into a party tent-like space. Masks were set out for all the revelers. Three types of raw oysters were being served as were appetizers including a rabbit terrine, which Dale stopped halfway to his lips when he found out what it was. Dinner did not go according to schedule—shocker—but the food was delicious as usual. Three friends joined us, but there were three strangers at the table who interacted very little. (We realized then that your friends should fill the entire round table, or else you go alone and force yourself to interact with the strangers. Instead it was like being at a wedding reception with people you don’t know and will never see again—hmm, come to think of it, I rarely enjoy sitting at round tables. At least at rectangular tables, if you don’t like the person next to you, there is always across the table options.)

Bourdain Gypsy Dinner

Gold Menu

Amuse:Foie Gras Brulee with Pickled Cherries

Cream of Tomato Soup with Bacon Drizzle
2004 Poet's Leap Columbia Valley Riesling

Geoduck Sashimi on Oceanic Gelée

Mâche & Celery Salad with Lardo & Pancetta Dressing
2003 Villa Raiano Fiano di Avellino, Campagnia,
Italy


Copper River Carpaccio with Herb Salad
2005 Soter Yamhill-Carlton District Rosé

~Black Pepper, Tequila, and Strawberry "Otter Pop"~

Roasted Chicken Hearts, Duck Gizzard Confit, and Duck Prosciutto Purses
2001 Domaine du Pesquier Gigondas, Rhône, France

Truffled Braised Veal Cheeks with Morels, Braised Leeks, and Pomme Purée
2004 Waters Columbia Valley Syrah

Lamb Loin "Sous Vide," Brûléed Lamb Tongues, Artichoke Bottoms, Ratatouille, Lavender Demi 2003 Pepper Bridge Walla Walla Merlot

"Fig Newton" Toasted Fig Bread with Windsor Bleu and Roasted Grapes
2004 Mission Hill "Five Vineyards" Okanagan Valley Riesling Ice Wine

Bittersweet Chocolate Terrine with a "Cluttering" of Garnishes
2003 Mas Amiel Maury Vin Doux Natural, France

Butterscotch Pudding
1999 Rene Renou "Cuvée Zenith" Bonnezeaux, Loire, France

Mignardise


Silver Menu

Amuse: Cone of Lamb Tartar with Goat's Milk foam

Watermelon Gazpacho
2004 Feudi di San Gregorio Fiano Falanghina, Campagnia, Italy

Creamy Potato Bisque with Crisp Geoduck Fritters

Three Grasses: Raw Asparagus with Bulgarian Feta, Spargel with Vinaigrette, Wild with Olive Oil Sorbet & Grapefruit
2001 Mantlerhof Roter Veltliner "Selection" Kremstal, Austria

Halibut Ceviche "Picada"
2005 Soter Yamhill-Carlton District Rosé

~Douglas Fir, Cinnamon, and Vanilla "Otter Pop"~

Head Cheese, Fried Marrow Sticks, and Boudin Noir
2001 Sierra Cantabria "Cuvée Especial" Rioja, Spain

Pan-Seared Duck Breast with Foie Gras Ravioli, Strawberry Compote, Rhubarb Gastrique, and Toasted Pine Nuts
2004 Waters Columbia Valley Syrah


Grilled Hangar Steak in Mushroom Tea, Soft Tendon, Fava Beans, Fondant Potato
Pepper Bridge Walla Walla Cabernet Sauvignon

Cheese Whiz: Whipped Epoisse with Gaufrette Potatoes & Granny Smith Apples
2004 Mission Hill "Five Vineyards" Okanagan Valley Riesling Ice Wine and Boones' Farm

Strawberry Hill Lime Cheesecake on an Aural Crust with Strawberry Sorbet
2000 Muller Catoir Mussbacher Eselshaut Rieslander Auslese Pfalz, Germany

Lemon Sour Cream Pudding
1999 Rene Renou "Cuvée Zenith" Bonnezeaux, Loire,
France

Mignardise

Chef Antonio Petruzzi: Italy in Seattle June 12th, 2005

"Naked" Ricotta Cheese and Spinach Quenelles in Pecorino Sauce with Sauteed Morels
Castello Di Poppiano, 2003 Vernaccia
di San Gimignano

Carnaroli Risotto with Red Wine, Gorgonzola and Pears
Fattoria Ucceliera, 2002 Chianti

Home-Made Mozzarella Ravioli with Crispy Vegetables and Basil Filet of Sea Bass in Martini Sauce with Grilled Vegetables
Roggiano, 1999 Morellino Di Scansano
Riserva

Chocolate Pocket with Gianduia Soft Heart, Whipped Tiramisu, and Orange Sauce
Malaga Oro Viejo Trasanejo 5 Anos

A Gypsy New Year's Eve Celebration

Celery Root Cappuccino with White Truffle Foam
Jean-Baptiste Adam, Alsace, 2003 Tokay Pinot Gris

Poached Quail Egg on Toasted Brioche with Frisée and Caramelized Onions

Pan Seared Black Cod on a Salt Cod & Currant Stew
Domaine Lafond, Roc-Epine, Lirac 2004 Marsanne
Rousanne

Foie Gras, Unagi, and Scallop Sushi
Jacques Dépagneux, Brouilly, 2004 Beaujolais


Braised Kurobuto Pork Belly on Heirloom Borlotti Beans with Demi Vegetables & Foraged Mushrooms
Vieux Telegramme, Chateauneuf du Pape, 2002

Spice-Crusted Venison Medallions with Parsnips, Cranberry Cassis Compote, and a Game Jus
Maestro Sanguineti, Tuscany, Nessun Dorma 2003 Sangiovese/Merlot/Syrah

Microgreen Salad with Champagne Vinaigrette

Trilogy of Desserts: Gingerbread Tiramisu, Chocolate Ganache Cake, Eggnog Ice
Viejo, Malaga, 5-Year Moscatell

If you would like to attend a Gypsy dinner,

write: apply@gypsydinners.com

That Headline Looks Awfully Familiar...

One of the best things about the Wall Street Journal is how an obscure topic appears in its pages and within a four to six months it is the talk of the nation after the other papers, news stations, and then monthlies pick up on it.
The following article appeared in the WSJ last week as I prepared to take summer vacation. I emailed it to Gabriel Claycamp at Culinary Communion, and throughout the Garde Manger class on Saturday, he tongue-in-cheek credited each chef whose recipe had been adapted for the class. Can you imagine being a patent lawyer on this case and having to eat at Craft, WD-50, or even el Bulli in the name of research? And getting paid handsomely for it?

That Melon Tenderloin Looks Awfully Familiar...
Chefs say copycats are ripping them off -- so some are fighting back with secrecy, lawyers; a patent for the noodles
By KATY MCLAUGHLIN June 24, 2006;

At minibar in Washington, chef Jose Andrés is known for his avant-garde tapas menu, including foie-gras cotton candy, lobster served with a lobster broth injection and melon tenderloin. So when he came across an online review and blog about a former protege's new restaurant in Tokyo's Mandarin Oriental Hotel, he was more than a little interested to read that the menu included ... foie-gras cotton candy, lobster served with a lobster broth injection and melon tenderloin.

That's when Mr. Andrés got in touch with his lawyer. Claiming that these and other dishes being served at the hotel's Tapas Molecular Bar were his inventions, he wants the Mandarin Oriental to pay him a license fee -- or change its menu. The Mandarin Oriental's lawyers are attempting to resolve the issue "amicably" but believe "the case is groundless," says Jill Kluge, group director of communications. Tapas Molecular Bar chef Jeff Ramsey did not respond to requests for comment.

Chefs copying other chefs is as time-honored a culinary tradition as snooty sommeliers. But at a time when one hit restaurant can mean multiple locations, television appearances and a line of cookware, imitation is no longer being seen as flattery. Many chefs now view menus and restaurant concepts as their own intellectual property, requiring staff to sign nondisclosure agreements, threatening alleged copycats with lawsuits and seeking patents for individual dishes.

These moves reflect a big shift in high-end restaurant culture. When French cuisine and traditions ruled, chefs went through long apprenticeships during which they were encouraged to mimic their mentors' methods of making hollandaise sauce or beef daube. But the past decade has seen the focus shift to innovation -- from subtle changes like chef Tom Colicchio's entirely a la carte menu at New York's Craft that encourages diners to mix and match dishes to the radical molecular gastronomy of chefs like Mr. Andrés.

At the same time, the culinary world has become more globally interconnected, making it far easier for chefs to keep track of what others are doing. Restaurant reviews from all over the world are available on the Web, and devoted foodies who tote cameraphones to restaurants post images of new dishes on message boards and blogs. That means that new ideas are spreading faster -- and that it's easier for chefs to police suspected copycats.
That's what happened three months ago on the eGullet.com Web site. Sam Mason, a pastry chef at WD-50 in New York, set off an international dust-up when he posted a link to the Web site of Interlude, a restaurant in Melbourne, Australia, and asked: "Is it me or are some of these dishes strikingly similar to a few American restaurants?" Interlude's site showed photos of such unusual fare as noodles made of shrimp and a glass tube full of eucalyptus jelly and yogurt, dishes pioneered at WD-50 and Chicago's Alinea, respectively. Interlude's chef, Robin Wickens, had worked for a week at Alinea as a stagiere, or unpaid intern, and had dined at WD-50 while visiting the U.S. EGullet's administrators then juxtaposed Interlude's images to nearly identical ones from WD-50 and Alinea. Within a few days, restaurateurs and chefs from around the country and dozens of eGullet members added to the thread, many branding Mr. Wickens a
plagiarist.

Mortified, Mr. Wickens says he removed the dishes from his menu and his site, and sent letters to the chefs whose work he'd copied explaining that he only wanted to utilize what he'd learned on his travels. "I never tried to claim them as my own," says Mr. Wickens, who says he told many patrons that the dishes had originated at the American restaurants.

This kind of idea-lifting has led more chefs to attempt to protect their intellectual property, according to attorney Charles Valauskas of Baniak Pine & Gannon in Chicago. Mr. Valauskas says three or four years ago he had no chef clients; now they make up more than 10% of his practice. Some chefs are seeking patents for an original recipe or technological innovation -- which can be possible if the U.S. patent office deems the idea sufficiently novel. The downside, Mr. Valauskas says, is that getting a patent can cost $5,000 to $15,000 to file, mostly in attorney's fees, and take years. The upside is that patents can provide strong and enforceable intellectual-property
protection.

A copyright can be given to the introduction to a recipe (often called the headnote), but not to the recipe itself, says Mr. Valauskas. A trademark can protect a name or logo, and trade dress can defend a design or style. Whatever the form of legal protection, however, infringements often must be addressed in court, making the process too expensive and time-consuming for
many restaurateurs.

Homaro Cantu, chef and partner in Moto in Chicago, takes several steps to protect his ideas. First, he requires all employees to sign a four-page nondisclosure agreement, in which they vow not to reveal the restaurant's secrets. He doesn't allow stagieres in his kitchen. And he has filed for 12 patents for inventions. Among them: a "food replicator," a machine that spits out edible strips that are embossed with the image of a food, such as an apple, and contain some of its flavor and nutrition; the idea is being assessed by the NASA Institute for Advanced Concepts, which develops space technology.

Other chefs, like Mr. Andrés at Washington's minibar, are investing in test kitchens, which allow them to experiment without interrupting the flow of work in the restaurant kitchen and come up with new ideas away from prying eyes. Mr. Andrés says he spends $80,000 to $100,000 a year staffing and maintaining his test kitchen. Chef Norman Van Aken, who has leveraged what he
calls his "new world cuisine" into multiple restaurants, says when he hears of chefs using more than three of his recipes without crediting him, he calls to request changes. Once he told a restaurant they'd be hearing from his lawyer. "That did the trick," he says.

Imitation sometimes extends to names. Mr. Colicchio, who co-owns 10 restaurants in New York, Dallas and Las Vegas called Craft, Craftbar, Craftsteak and 'wichcraft, says he was disturbed to learn of a place in Hong Kong using the word Craft in its name just as he was in discussions to open his own Craft there (the deal didn't go through for other reasons, he says).

Dining Concepts, which owns Craft Steak in Hong Kong, also owns restaurants called Tru, Bizou, and Olive -- all names identical or nearly so to well-known U.S. places. "I didn't know there was a restaurant called Craftsteak in New York," says Sandeep Sekhri, managing director of Dining Concepts. He says he was also unaware of the other similar names and adds that he registers his restaurant names with the Hong Kong trademark office

For some chefs, these new realities in the restaurant world are bittersweet. "I'm torn, because I like to share ideas, but I'm being warned not to by patent attorneys and potential investors," says chef Wylie Dufresne of New York's WD-50. He says he feels badly that Interlude's Mr. Wickens got caught up in the fury over copying: "I think he made a youthful mistake." Still, Mr. Dufresne is talking to an attorney about patenting his recipe for turning shrimp into noodles, a dish the Australian chef copied.

Keeping Cool with Cocktails

Sorry--the camera broke, so no pix for awhile.

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph--Seattle has had record heat this summer, and this in a city that doesn't truly get summer until July 15. And Seattle residents rarely have air conditioning, so just like when we get a few inches of snow, it seems like the whole city comes to a halt. Even the Pike Place Market looked deserted (from the the AC'd vantage point of my 35th floor office). In what seems like decades ago--because it was, unfortunately--such weather would have my fake-ID equipped friends and I down at hipster drinking joints, enjoying G&T's, over-the-top frozen cocktails and appetizers (Note: embezzling friends make the best drinking partners).

Drinks have come along way since then. And every six moths there is a slew of new articles on seasonal drinks. The LA Times Herbal cocktails, anyone? seemed promising but its Cool Cucumber Martini with cucumber and chervil was dismal at best. So I was pretty disappointed that last week the entire food section of the New York Times was devoted to drinks. But in what seemed to be just another ho-hum article on cocktails Frost on the Sun: Summertime Cocktails Pete Wells made three interesting points on that most important ingredient of cocktails: ice.

As ice melts, it does two things to a cocktail. It chills
the ingredients, of course, but it also adds a new one. Melted
ice — you probably know it as water — lowers the concentration of alcohol,
making it easier to distinguish the taste of whatever spirit you're using.
Water also brings together [blends] flavors that don't
readily mingle. (Without ice to settle them down, the gin, vermouth and Campari
in a Negroni seem perpetually on the verge of a barroom brawl.

I know, it seems obvious, but think about it: how many cocktails have you had that are so boozy that you can’t enjoy them? Or what about those plastic ice cubes promising not to dilute drink you see for sale? Thus, it was interesting that in an accompanying article, A Contest Where Victory Goes to the Coolest, ice played such a minor in the Times’ winner in cocktail contest. The winning drink is called the Cuke, and is pretty similar to other cucumber-based cocktails I have had over the past several years, most recently at 22 Doors.

Dale loves cucumbers, and snacks on them like potato chips (which being one of my major weaknesses, I don't allow in the house) so I knew he would love this one. He did, but for the first time he suggested a way to improve it. He wanted the rim salted like a margarita. I thought this was a little too much, so we began adding kosher salt to taste, and bingo, we were fighting over the last ounces. The salt added that extra punch to the flavoring, making both sweetness and tartness stand out proudly and together and taming the mint and lime. It may have even made us thirstier for those last drops.

The recipe that follows the Cuke was published years ago in the New York Times in Grown-Ups Don't Nog Eggs and has become my house drink in the colder months and my most requested recipe. But hold back a bit on the syrup and add a bit more lemon juice, and you have a killer summer drink, too. Don’t let the price of the pear brandy or eau de vie scare you off—-a little goes a long way, and is the key ingredient in a Simple Pear Tart. Play around with different dried fruits and eau de vies or brandies to come up with your own drinks and tarts such as dried cherries with kirsh or dried apples with Calvados or Armagnac with prunes.

The Cuke Adapted from Adam Frank

1 lime, rinsed
1/3 cup packed mint leaves, no stems, plus 2 sprigs for garnish
1/2 unwaxed cucumber
½ cup table sugar
2/3 cup Hendrick's gin
salt
Sparkling water.

1. Roll the lime against a counter with your palm 8 times. Thinly slice 1/2 of the lime and place in a pitcher. Add mint leaves. Slice cucumber crosswise very thinly and add to pitcher, reserving 6 slices, then add sugar. Muddle ingredients, using the sugar granules to grind the ingredients before the sugar dissolves. Juice the remaining lime half and add juice to pitcher. Add gin. Add salt to taste. Place in refrigerator to steep 30 minutes or longer.
2. Fill 2 highball or other large glasses with ice. Strain mixture from pitcher into each. Top with a splash of sparkling water, garnish each glass with a sprig of mint and reserved cucumber slices, and serve.
Yield: 2 servings.


Parkhurst's Pear Adapted from Eleven Madison Park

For the base (5 drinks):
1/2 liter Stolichnaya vodka
1 1/2 dried pears, sliced (the smaller the pieces, the greater the overall surface area)
1/2 vanilla bean, split in half lengthwise
10 peppercorns, lightly crushed
For each drink:
1 teaspoon simple syrup, or less to taste (see note)
1 teaspoon lemon juice, or more to taste
3/8 ounce pear brandy such as Clear Creek or Poire William.
Twist of lemon rind

1. In a jar, combine vodka, pears, vanilla and peppercorns. Stir together. Seal tightly and let sit for two days, giving jar a shake a few times each day. After two days, strain through a colander into a clean jar. Chill. (The original recipe calls for it to be strained through cheesecloth but I like the vanilla seeds and bits of peppercorn floating amongst the ice chips and murky fluid.)
2. To make the drink, fill a cocktail shaker with ice. Add 3 ounces of vodka mixture, simple syrup, lemon juice and pear brandy. Shake 5 or 6 times vigorously. Strain a little into a chilled martini glass. Taste, adding more lemon juice if needed. Garnish with a twist. Serve.
Yield: 1 drink.

Note: For simple syrup, gradually stir one pound of granulated sugar into 13 ounces of boiling water in a sauce pan until it is dissolved.



Simple Pear Tart Adapted from Martha Stewart
2 oz cream cheese
4 tbsp unsalted butter, room temperature
½ cup flour, plus extra for hands
½ cup sugar + 1 ½ tbsp
1/8 tsp salt
2 tbsp freshly squeezed lemon juice
2 tbsp pear brandy
1 Bartlett pear
1/8 tsp ground cinnamon

1. Heat oven to 400 degrees with rack in center. Line a baking sheet with parchment.
Combine cheese and butter in food processor. Add flour, ¼ cup sugar, salt, and process until combined. Dough will be sticky.
2. Turn dough out onto prepared baking sheet. With lightly floured fingers, pat dough out into a rough 8” circle. In medium bowl combine ¼ cup sugar with lemon juice and brandy.
3. Halve unpeeled pears lengthwise and core. Cut lengthwise into ¼” slices; transfer to lemon juice mixture; coat well. Places slices in strainer to drain liquid (strained and remaining liquid can be frozen for future tarts). Arrange length wise around border of dough, overlapping slightly. Arrange remaining slices in center. Sprinkle tart with remaining 1 ½ tbsp sugar. Dust pears with cinnamon.
4. Bake until golden, 25-30 minutes.
Serve warm or at room temperature with a dollop of whipped cream with pear brandy or vanilla ice cream.