Broward Palm Beach Blog

​Ethical guidelines amongst restaurant critics has become a hot button topic these days, with outings of high-profile critics who show up to restaurants expecting preferential treatment tumbling down like so many business cards flung at a maître d'. Last week's announcement of long-time New York Times writer Sam Sifton being named the new Frank Bruni raised the question again, but from a different angle: could Sifton, whose picture and profile has flooded the Internet since the announcement, remain anonymous in what is essentially the highest profile critic gig in the country?

Seattle Times food writer Nancy Leson attempted to answer the question earlier this week on her blog with yet another question: in an age where everyone is a critic, capable of posting reviews to aggregate websites and blogs alike, is anonymity even important anymore? I mean,  a restaurant could always assume that there's someone in the house at any given time who may be writing something about their experience. So why is it important if it knows for a fact that someone is?

Yesterday, Seattle Weekly restaurant critic Jonathan Kauffman responded on his blog, stating matter of factly that he will always endeavor to dine anonymous, no matter the popular climate. I, for one, agree with him.

Your server has the right to play too.

Dear Insufferable Know-It-Alls:

My husband and I agree that we'll give up just about anything -- new Wii games, Stella McCartney frocks, our children's dental checkups -- if we're forced to cut back on our spending. But the one thing we're stubbornly refusing to budge on is our once-a-week restaurant meal. Arguing with some justification that both our jobs could evaporate before we can say "braised short ribs with cauliflower puree" (he's in banking, I'm in journalism) my husband -- who even in good times is tighter than a clam's ass -- insists on pinching pennies by cutting the percentage of tip he leaves the server. Where we used to invariably tip 20 percent, even for mediocre service, he's now tipping just 15 percent even if the waiter or waitress has been brilliant. Since our check totals are already smaller (we share an appetizer now, order cheaper wine, and usually skip dessert), I say this amounts to double punishment on the poor waitstaff. What do you think?

Signed
Married to a Quahog

Dear Mrs. Mercenaria*:
Short of recommending a good divorce attorney (we do know a few, and they're not suffering in the new economy), we'd advise you to at least choose a less clammed-up dining partner for your Friday-night forays. By coincidence, the Wall Street Journal published an editorial on just this subject recently, with a well-known New York restaurateur voicing precisely your husband's opinion. We here at Clean Plate Charlie violently beg to differ. If you are flush enough to eat out, you are flush enough to tip decently -- and tipping decently means 20 percent for anything but truly awful service. Servers share their tips with the entire house -- with the busboys (who make even less than they do) and the bartenders and the sushi rollers. When you are stingy with one, you are stingy with the whole kaboodle. As you point out, restaurant staff are already making less money because diners are ordering fewer dishes. If your cheapskate hubbie has a beef with either food or service, he should raise his concerns with the manager, who, if he or she knows the first thing about hospitality, will probably comp at least part of your bill (and we're not recommending this as an habitual practice). Servers are not slaves, and just like your husband, they have rent, groceries to buy, and Virtual Tennis games to play.

*The scientific name for the Quahog is "Mercenaria mercenaria," which translates as "wage." That pimply faced kid transporting your burgers and sushi deserves a fair one.

***THINK YOU CAN STUMP US? Leave your foodish questions in the comments section below and we'll answer them next Friday.***

The only good pompano is an incinerated pompano

Dear Insufferable Know-It-Alls:

Grilling fresh local fish outside on the old Weber is my own private Waterloo, except unlike Napoleon's humiliating defeat by Wellington and the Prussians, mine keeps happening over and over like a recurring nightmare -- the only thing that changes are which guests are witnessing the battle and having to pretend to swallow the resulting cinders. I have tried grilling many types of seafood of many different cuts (pompano, grouper, snapper, cobia, wahoo) -- in all kinds of weather, on grills searingly hot to rather cool, but the one common denominator at the end is that they are all inedible. Please help, as the list of people I can persuade to come to my house for dinner has grown alarmingly short. I'm starting to think that the only good fish is a fried fish.

Signed,
It All Turns to Ashes in My Mouth

Dear Ashes, 

Here's a foolproof way to grill fish:
 
Grease the grill. Get half of the grill blazing hot. Cook the fish for a minute or two each side, or until there's a light char on the outside. Then move the fish to the side of the grill with no burners on -- or better yet, no charcoal. Then you can finish it off with indirect heat. Fish is tricky because of its density, so I always use a meat thermometer along the way to see when it's done.

Now, go change out of those overalls and pour yourself a margarita.
 

Dinner is served.

Dear Exalted Know it All:

A native Floridian told me once that most of the alligator tail sold in Florida restaurants is the throwaway meat from the outsides of the tail. It's the center tenderloin that the natives eat, he said. So is there anywhere in South Florida that makes an edible tenderloin of alligator tail, instead of that chewy junk served to tourists?

Signed,
Chasing Tail
Fort Lauderdale




Dear Chasing,

As you can see from the picture above, when we here at New Times are craving prime gator tail, we generally go out into the swamps at night and catch it. That's one way to be sure you'll get the best meat available, and there are many outfits in South Florida that will not only take you hunting, but butcher up that baby afterwards and send you home with a cooler full of edible parts (and the tail is just one). Mark Clemmons of Everglades Adventures out in Clewiston is one of the best (call him at 863-983-8999) but there are many outfits to choose from.

If you don't feel like dropping a couple of grand for do-it-yourself saurian, there's one foolproof place to eat your gator and that's at Alligator Alley. Proprietor/chef Kilmo Pacillo has made it his mission to know everything there is to know about sourcing and cooking gator, from how to sautee a scallopini just right to his own recipe for barbecue sauce. Kilmo's a stickler for his gator, and you can believe his "gator bites" are not made from scraps. Occasionally Kilmo also gets fresh gator ribs in, which are considered a great Florida delicacy, and these he barbecues on a smoker. Call over there and ask when they're getting their next batch of ribs, tie your bib on, and get ready to roar.

1321 E. Commercial Blvd.
954-771-2220

Readers: feel free to jump in here if you know where to get good gator grub.
 
***THINK YOU CAN STUMP US? Send us your foodish conundrums, and we'll do our best to unravel them. Email GAIL.SHEPHERD@BROWARD PALMBEACH.COM and look for the miraculous solution right here every Friday.***

The whole crew is standing by

Next Friday we launch our weekly Friday Feature, "Ask The Critic," invented for the sole purpose of allowing us to show off.

Readers: Send us your easy questions, send us your torturous riddles. "Where can I find beignet in Lauderhill?"; "Who makes the tastiest shark n bake?"; "How many calories are in the Kitchen Sink Sundae at Jackson's Ice Cream Parlor?", "What does balut taste like?"; "Is it true that Chef X is shagging his prep cook?"; "Do these pants make me look fat?"

We'll endeavor to find out. Pose your questions to the group or tag one of us in particular.

Our areas of expertise are multitudinous and overlapping, but we've worked out a rough division of labor that seems to have broken down along these lines:

Bill Citara: Wine Snob
John Linn: Pit man. Barbecue, Japanese, Mexican, or anything that narrows the arterial walls.
Brett Gillin: Intrepid & Parsimonious  (he'll eat anything, particularly if it's cheap)
Gail Shepherd: Inveterate lush. Social climber. Chocolate. Oh hell, just ask me anything.
Eric Barton: Once his wife knew somebody who knew somebody who got them a table at the French Laundry. Maybe she can get you one too.
Vicki: Licorice whip tester and Jawbreakers aficionado.

Send us your questions NOW and we'll answer them NEXT FRIDAY!