Just Cured - Experience Fine Foods

Halloween was one of my favorite holidays when I was a child.† Perhaps it was the limitless quantities of candy I was permitted to consume.† Perhaps it was the chance to be someone different for the day, or a few hours.† Perhaps it was that Halloween is the one holiday that is just for kids.† Certainly, it was some combination of all this and more that made the day so special.† And although it has been many years since I have participated in Halloween celebrations, I still have a soft spot for the day.

I recall only glimpses of the Halloweens that preceded our moving into the house that is still the family home.† It is the Halloweens that immediately followed that move that I recall so vividly.† I am not sure I remember everything about the first Halloween in that house; but I know my new friends instructed me on the homes where the most generous helpings of sweets could be had, and we mapped out a plan to maximize our take.

It was only a couple of years later that we sponsored a haunted house in our basement.† The scary face painted in day-glo colors adorned the enormous furnace until it expired many, many years later.

It has been many years since I have seen a trick or treater.† My wife and I live in a Halloween disadvantaged neighborhood — few children, no sidewalks, no streetlights, houses set back from the street with intervening trees, and stupid, crazy drivers on the street.

And so tonight, my wife and I returned to that same childhood home to help my mother pass out treats and control her energetic, adolescent goldendoodle.† For two hours, the stream of trick or treaters was unabated.† I served up treats to supermen, batmen, spidermen, football heros, ghosts, goblins, witches, warlocks, wizards, pirates, grim reapers, fairies, princesses, ballerinas, lions, tigers, leopards, bears, dinosaurs and goodness-knows-what-else.† Virtually every costume was well conceived and executed.† Many of the children took a short break and played with the dog.† More than a few children and parents stopped to chat a bit before heading to their next destination.† All but one or two kids remembered to speak a clear “thank you.”

I was particularly drawn to a fairy of about three who would have stayed and petted the dog for the entire evening but for her older sisters’ desires to score more candy and a grim reaper who would have done the same despite his mother’s entreaties that he would be late for his band performance at the high school football game.† This young man with Down’s Syndrome turned out to be the youngest son of the friend who mapped out the prime trick or treat houses for me all those years ago.† The joy the son felt and projected tonight was valuable far beyond all the treats given or consumed.

Did I really write just a few paragraphs ago that Halloween is just for kids?† Tonight I reminded myself that while Halloween is all about kids, it is for

all of us.

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In this post, I mentioned a chef’s special dish and his sharing the secrets of its preparation.† In large part because my wife enjoyed this dish so well, I have experimented with several versions of it since we returned home.

I think I am close to getting it right:

Thanks Kevin!

Thanks to Ben at Powerhouse Design for the design and screen printing of this poster advertising Just Cured salmon.

Have to have one for yourself?† Ask nicely or order something from the web store.† Available in two sizes, 12 by 18 and 9 by 12.

Much has been made of the transformation of the U.S. economy from its manufacturing base to one of “service.”† Well, this weekend, I suffered through too many instances of the new economy’s version of customer service.

I endured four circles of voice mail hell yesterday before being transferred to a polite woman.† All that to speak the four digits that updated the expiration date of my credit card on file with New York’s E-Z Pass authority.† Of course, had I remembered my six digit account number and four digit PIN, I would not have needed customer service at all; I could have served myself by updating my information online.† All of which she impatiently reminded before agreeing to do what I called for.

I had a similar experience with the cable company.† Don’t even get me started on the airlines.

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In many industries customer service doesn’t exist any longer.† In the push to increase productivity and reduce headcounts, the companies with which we do business have pushed customer service back to the consumer.† I am sure that the companies find this to be terribly efficient.† The trouble is, I don’t.† They save thousands (or tens of thousands) of man hours by forcing us to invest increments of minutes, usually quite inefficiently.† We are directed to a poorly designed web site to search for answers to simple questions.† We must listen to complex menus of call center options, none of which describes precisely the purpose of our calls, and guess which menu choice leads to a live person and which to an automated system that invariably perfoms a function other than the one required.

This new model of customer service represents service by a thousand frustrations.† Yes, it is wonderfully efficient, dare I say even liberating, to use these self service systems when we know our precise needs and have all the necessary inputs at hand.† But, when we don’t know what we need, we require service from the companies we patronize — not another email form or level of cascading menus.

I suppose that I am frustrated because this self service model bears such stark contrast to the brand of guest service I experienced last week.† My wife and I got away for a few days to visit one of our favorite parts of the country, the Adirondack Mountains of upstate New York, and some of our favorite people, the staff at the Lake Placid Lodge.

The Lodge is in the throes of a re-opening after a devastating fire destroyed the original main lodge buildings nearly three years ago.† They are opening spaces in the building as the contractors finish the spaces with a complete re-opening scheduled for December 15.† I could, and should, be impressed by — and describe in detail here — the fantastic design of the new building, or the fine craftsmanship evidenced in the construction, or the exquisite materials incorporated, or the beautiful new china, silver, crystal and linens, or the food that is as beautiful as it is tasty.† The one thing, however, that continues to impress me is how the people who work there make me feel — that they are committed to serve me both as a guest and as a person.

It makes no difference whether I interact with a staff member I have known for years or for minutes.† They know not only my name, but that I prefer to be called by my first name rather than Mr. or a shortened version of my first name; which tea I prefer; where I like to sit and read and the newspapers I read; what I drink before dinner; the few foods I don’t particularly enjoy; and countless other details.† They act on my preferences seemingly without effort.

That the house cares enough to collect, disseminate and use this information makes me feel that my patronage is important to their business.† The staff’s willingness to share a bit of themselves makes me feel that each member cares about me as a person. From one’s love of watching the brown trout swim up the brooks to spawn and his favorite place to watch, to another’s picture of her leashed cat’s rubbing noses with a deer, and from a chef’s sharing how he developed a special dish, to the GM’s golden retriever’s adopting us for daily hikes, they draw me into their lives and their passion to serve.

You arrive at this place as a customer and leave as a member of an extended family.† That’s a kind of customer service that is almost unheard of but that others should aspire to — and a joy to experience first hand.

I have gotten used to the shouting that passes for conversation in the streets of my new work neighborhood.† I rarely pay attention to those conversations that degenerate into profane versions of “gonna mess you up.”† In my limited experience, these shouting matches almost never escalate into something more — at least during daylight hours.

And so, today on my mid-day walk, I took but little notice to the jawing of two guys on the street.† I see both of them around, often together.† The first was a rail thin young man.† I have the impression that he gets into fights often.† I have seen him with a black eye, a split lip and various cuts and scrapes.† He appears to get better than he gives; and I have come upon him while complaining about an assailant or two.† The second was also thin, but has the physique that comes only from having spent untold hours in the gym — broad shoulders, thin waist and hips, every muscle cut with definition.

From the corner of my eye, I saw the skinny guy charge the muscular one and throw a wild punch.† I turned and watched the muscular one hold onto the skinny guy.† The muscular one was sufficiently strong to restrain the skinny guy and appeared to have the fight under control.

As if in slow motion, I saw the skinny guy reach for, and grab, an empty glass bottle.† The first swing glanced off muscular guy’s back.† The second connected squarely with the back of his head.† The third shattered the bottle, and blood spurted from muscular guy’s head.

With that, merely subduing skinny guy was no longer an option.† Muscular guy unleashed a barrage of blows that with their precision, pacing and effect revealed his obvious training as a boxer — to chin, cheek, abdomen and kidney. Blood flowed copiously down muscular guy’s back and splattered with each turn of his head

Skinny guy appeared to have enough, then charged.† And another flurry erupted.† Yet another charge and flurry ensued after that.

Throughout the fight, friends of the combatants and onlookers screamed and cried and tried to separate them.† No entreaty was going to be effective until the two were spent.

I walked past that same block 45 minutes later.† The two fighters were sitting together on a stoop a few doors from the location of the brawl.† Skinny guy’s face was a lumpy pulp.† Tomorrow his right eye will be swollen shut and his cheekbone or orbital bone may be broken.† The boxer’s bloody shirt lay beside him, a towel and ice pack draped over his nearly shaved head.

I heard them telling those gathered nearby of an “accident” between these two who called each other brother.† And as they described this accident and each other’s performance during the accident, they passed between the two an enormous joint as if it were a modern, urban peace pipe.

Brothers?† Accident?† Weed?

Aren’t families grand?

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My wife and I rarely go to dinner in restaurants.† We used to do so; but got out of the habit as I cooked more and better and as her mother required daily attention.† Even when we dined out, we almost never went to a restaurant on a Saturday night — too crowded, too hit-or-miss, too impersonal an experience.

Last weekend, we not only went out to dinner, but did so on a Saturday night.† It was a beautiful day and evening, and my wife and I both wanted to do something a little bit special.† Earlier on Saturday, I attended part of the Red Bull Soapbox Derby in Mt. Adams.† While I was on the hill, our friends David and Liz Cook talked about the effect 36 hours of street closures were having on their weekend business.† I recounted their words to my wife; and we decided to make the weekend a bit less costly for the Cooks.

I really enjoy everything about Daveeds at 934 — the food is imaginative and always well prepared, the room is attractive, the back patio is more than comfortable, the staff is warm and engaging.† Our meal that evening, chosen from a limited menu, was special.

But this post isn’t a restaurant review or intended to describe that meal in detail; it is about something more universal, and more important.† That meal reminded me of an opinion that I have long held, that I want to express, and that I solicit commentary upon.

I believe that fine dining and near-fine dining restaurants represent the best value for your dining out dollar.† These restaurants are expensive, I agree.† You simply get more for the extra dollars you spend there as compared to <insert the name of any number of ubiquitous chain restaurants here>.

A three course dinner (appetizer, main course and pastry) plus two glasses (or a half bottle) of wine at a fine dining restaurant in this part of the country will cost approximately $100 per person.† A similar meal in a near-fine dining restaurant will be perhaps $10 or so dollars less.† I don’t frequent the chains, but I have looked at more than a few of their menus, and a comparable meal at one of those places probably runs $60.

All these meals are a stretch for the average diner or couple.† What makes the fine or near-fine dining restaurant worth the extra money, and in my view a bargain?

Your food will be prepared from ingredients of uniformly high quality, often grown or raised by local farmers.† Taste the food critically, you can taste the difference that quality ingredients make.† Or ask a few chefs; they’ll tell you that, all else being equal, the guy (or gal) with access to the best products is the “best” chef.† These high quality ingredients also make for a more healthful meal; the chains resort to tricks, usually in the form of added fat, to make lesser ingredients tasty.

Your food will be individually prepared for you by trained chefs and cooks.† These cooks have a passion for their craft and take great care to deliver your meal exactly as you request it.† These cooks pay attention to every detail of every item on your plate; the vegetable garnish and the sauce receive at least as much attention as the protein.

You are most likely to be served an appropriate quantity of food.† Chefs and owners of places with aspirations take great pride in serving meals with balance and finesse.† Chains create the impression of value by serving outsized portions.† You are not going to lose weight dining out regularly.† Fine dining, however, isn’t nearly the diet buster that many perceive it to be.

The menu will reflect the personality and background of the chef or owner.† You can learn a great deal about your host from the food he or she chooses to offer you.† What you can learn at the chains is that it all tastes the same — in Cincinnati, Chattanooga or Colorado Springs.

The wine selections will be chosen specifically to complement the food.† You may not recognize the names on many of the labels, generally because the restaurant may choose small volume producers who don’t advertise.† Don’t fret; there is someone on staff there to guide your choices.† Please take advantage of his or her skills and passion; you may as well learn a thing or two as long as you are paying for your meal.

The china, crystal, silver and linens will be of very high quality.† These items represent a huge investment by the restaurant.† The owner thinks they will make a difference in your dining experience.† So, pay attention to the weight of the silver in your hand and the way the light plays off the crystal.

The decor will be unique and a reflection of owner and the style of dining.† More importantly, every aspect of the decor is intended to enhance your dining experience — rather than to provide entertainment or distraction.

The staff will be knowledgeable about the menu and the wine.† Moreover, they will be professional; every action they take will be to make your meal more enjoyable.† They recognize that they are there to serve you, not to become your new best friend.

In short, the fine and near-fine dining meal is akin to a couple hour vacation.† Lesser restaurants will quell your hunger; the best will nurture and refresh your spirit.

The difference between the fine and near-fine dining experience and everything else certainly has a cost that exceeds the modest price differential in the meals.† And, in my mind, the added value those restaurants deliver dramatically exceeds that modest price differential.† That proposition is, however, an opinion.† I wonder how many others agree or disagree with me.

Our city is innundated with chain restaurants.† We also have a thriving population of independent restaurants, the owners of which contribute greatly to our community.† Virtually all the fine and near-fine dining options available to us are provided by those independent operators.† Given the state of the economy and the events of the past several weeks, I fear that more and more guests are not going to appreciate the value that the best restaurants deliver.† And we will all be the poorer if my fears come to pass.

Why did this display transport me to the 1930s?

Apple stand

And I know that autumn is here and Halloween is just around the corner when the produce vendors put out the huge box of pumpkins.

Soon to be Jack-o'-lanterns

The screen capture below is the most unintentionally amusing thing I have seen come out of the credit crisis discussion this week.† This morning I called up the CNBC page listing credit spreads to see how the credit markets feel about the overnight news.† The banner ad across the page is for a free checking account at — drum roll, please — WaMu.