Cabinet Secretary

I just noticed this article about staffing problems at our Department of Treasury, which includes a complaint from a somewhat vaguely described British official, Gus O'Donnell:

"Gus O'Donnell, Cabinet Secretary for the British government, was quoted this week in British news reports saying it has been "unbelievably difficult" to talk to people at the U.S. Treasury: 'There is nobody there.' "

It bothers me when newspapers quote people without bothering to explain why they're important enough to listen to. In this case, we might as well be told that Gus O'Donnell is the grand olephaunt for the British government, for all the indication the article gives us that O'Donnell is in fact the head of the extremely powerful British civil service. If he's complaining, it's very unlikely to be nonsense.

Thoughts elsewhere

I'm linking to a post of mine on egullet, which summarizes my current thinking on midtown "coffee and a doughnut" style breakfasts (my favorite breakfast, just beating out egg and potato).

Text of the post is below:

A few of my favorite coffee and something sweet breakfasts: An espresso and an apricot filled cornetto at Zibetto (italian espresso) on 56th and 6th (no seats) (or, even, get your croissant or pastry at Bouchon in Time Warner and run it over to Zibetto for the coffee). Pain au chocolat and cafe au lait at La Bergamote (19th and 9th, and 52nd and 10th). The "country breakfast" at Amy's Bread (I'm not a huge Amy's fan, but I love the combination of biscuits and jam) (multiple locations). Cream (not raspberry) bomboloni at Sullivan Street Bakery.

I'm sure someone will eventually mention Artichoke for a slice of pizza. As for other lunches, you can make a bit of a study of the burger renaissance, if that's your thing. In midtown, there's Burger Joint, Beacon, 5 Napkin Burger, City Burger.

What I want to cook

This blog is (now) mostly for my own amusement and thoughts, though I appreciate every page view. I use it to remember where and what I've eaten, and what I'm thinking about on any particular day. It unites the last five or six years for me, along with Crescat Sententia and my original Waddling Thunder.

Anyway, I've been thinking about how to make it more useful. My twitter feed is part of that. I love having a flowing record of my restaurant visits. And recently, I tried to create a record of what popped into my head to cook over in the left margin, to fix the problem of forgetting about some neat ideas I have over my working day. Unfortunately, I find myself unable to consistently update the list in the way I can twitter. From now on, therefore, I'm just going to post what I want to cook in my twitter feed under the title "Stuff I want to cook" or SIWTC. Let's see hwo that works.

Halfsteak

It has been fascinating to watch how the New York restaurant scene has reacted to the economic cataclysm. Some restaurants have closed. Others are offering discounted menus, discounted wine, new bar menus, or off-hours discounts. Among the most aggressive restaurateurs in this regard has been Tom Colicchio, Top Chef master and head of the Craft family. The flagship Craft itself has pioneered Frugal Fridays, a $10 a plate occasional restaurant in Craft's private dining room. And Craftsteak, Colicchio's extortionately expensive steak restaurant, has started Halfsteak, which we visited last night.

The concept is straightforward. Half portions of Craftsteak food for half price. The headliner? A half portion (6 oz) of Craftsteak's signature dry aged bone-in steak with fries for $14.50, supplemented by half pints of local beer ($3.50) and some funky appetizers (fried tripe?). We tried the fried oysters with smoked coleslaw, a couple of drinks (an excellent dark wheat beer and a half cocktail with lime) and a dessert cupcake, along with two steaks. Good news first - the steak and drinks are worth the trip to the dark recesses of 10th avenue. It's terrific meat, properly cooked, with excellent fries. Not to mention that someone is finally serving me the perfect portion of steak - I don't want a 16 oz he-man cut.

The service and the appetizers and dessert? Well, one was bad, and the others didn't add anything to our experience (I don't like cupcakes). But my qualms about the waiters, at least, were mollified a little by being handed a slice of coffee cake "for breakfast" on the way out, which I've gobbled this morning.

The halfsteak is a great, great, value. Enjoy it while it lasts.

Notes from today

Caterer: And of course, our price includes a tasting at our [legitimately good] restaurant!

Me: Of course, if I just picked a cheaper caterer, I could come to your restaurant and bathe myself, my fiancee, and any number of laid off New Yorkers in truffes and caviar with the savings, no?

Rank hypocrisy watch

I should note that I realize I am susceptible to claims of hypocrisy, given that I keep extolling the virtue of saving all the while being in the middle of negotiating an extremely expensive wedding that I think both of us wish didn't need to be so. I really have no answer whatever to this.

Also, let me put forward a hypothetical conversation I intend to have with a bidding caterer today:

Me: I notice that you are charging me [X obscene fee] for service.

Them: Yes. We have the best service.

Me: Indeed. And I also notice this delightful 15% "service and administration fee" over here. What's that?

Them: The tip.

Me: Aha. But let's play a little intellectual game. Why has America adopted the tip (i.e., the voluntary gratuity) as a model of waiter compensation, you think? As opposed to the service included European regime?

Them: Oh, because American restaurateurs don't pay their wait staff anything resembling a reasonable wage, instead hoping that tips will compensate them fairly.

Me: Right. So it's fair to say that the tip is in lieu of some percentage of wages paid out by the restaurateur?

Them: Yes.

Me: Then why the f&@# are you charging me both $35 an hour for these waiters, from which you can pay them whatever the hell wage you'd like, *and* expecting me to pay them a tip, calculated on a base figure that somehow includes the $35 an hour fee?

Them: Because we're trying to rob you.

Me: I figured.

Stimulus again

Some very interesting discussion from Russ Roberts and Arnold Kling on Blogging Heads about the economic crisis. As I've mentioned before, I agree with them that (1) the government is trying to put the leverage-bubble humpty-dumpty back together again (2) their efforts aren't going to work. We are just going to have get used to a world of much lower leverage both at the corporate and personal finance levels, and yet our government officials appear to be trying to just ressucitate the model that just broke down. As Ricky Gervais might have said, why are we sending horses to perform medical procedures? (watch the clip).

By the way, all we normal people are pretty irrelevant to the great economic debate going on. But how should we all act in view of what's going on? To me, the only rational response is to batten down the hatches. 30% of gross income is no longer an acceptable debt burden. De-lever to 30% of net income. Carry no credit card debt month to month. Push savings to over 10% of personal income, if possible. Amass 6 months to a year of living expenses in liquid savings. Oh, and ignore politicians that tell you it's time to spend.

EDIT: of course, I'm guilty of inexact language above. I meant to say that the cost of carrying your debt (the payments) should be no more on an annual basis than 30% of your net income, not that your entire debt should be no more than 30% of your net income.

Dehydrated Olive Tapenade

I got my hands on some extremely fresh wild salmon over the weekend, and though I knew how I would cook it (on my flat griddle, skin down, 10 minutes, until skin is potato chip crisp) I was groping a little for a sauce until I remembered a neat idea from the Alinea cookbook - an olive oil jam made of dehydrated olives.

I don't own a dehydrator.  But I've done well dehydrating tomatoes in the oven at 170, so I put some shriveled, oil-cured, thasos olives in the oven on a low burn and forgot about them for about 7 hours.  They emerged further shriveled, tough jerky like pellets of concentrated olive flavor.  I pitted them, and then set to with my mortar, pestle, and good Cretan olive oil until I got a smooth paste.  The resultant sauce was a fantastic, salty, counterpoint to the salmon with a texture that differed markedly from standard issue tapenade or olive paste (i.e., tapenade sans anchovies).   This is a highly recommended building block, and it's going to make further appearances all summer (this seems an obvious element of an updated greek salad, or a great sauce for baby lamb chops or rack of lamb).  It is salty, however, and care should be taken  when pairing with cheese or other intensely savory ingredients.

Things I was wrong about

I've been thinking about errors that have been exposed by this crisis.  The one that I think I'm most embarrassed about is the 401(k) as a retirement vehicle.  I suppose it seems obvious now, but it turns out to be entirely unacceptable (as others, I admit, said) to base people's retirements on a mechanism that might decline in value 40% (or more) almost at random due to circumstances beyond any normal person's control.  Of course, investing conventional wisdom tells you to shift slowly out of equities over time, but I've never seen any investment advice recommend *no* equities, and that is the only expedient that would have saved a retirement aged  person in this crisis.  Now to find out what kind of employer might offer a traditional pension.