Bourmoudienne

I've been re-reading Bourmoudienne v. Bush, the case in which the Supreme Court held last term that the writ of habeas corpus ran, in some sense, to Guantanomo. It's an important case, of course, but setting all that aside, it's a deeply compelling mix of history and law.

It's becoming clearer to me on my re-reading, though, that the history on which the Court relies is all rather muddled. It feels wrong, to someone familiar with the early modern era. Of course, to some extent that's because it was probably drafted by someone not terribly interested and based on obviously outdated textbooks, which couldn't possibly be the state of the art understanding of the relevant history. On page 11 of the slip opinion, for example, the Court cites a well known but ludicrously general "History of England and the British Empire", originally published in 1937 for the history of Charles I and the 1627 Petition of Right. I'm pretty sure that the current state of thought on that episode is something a little more sophisticated than "the King soon began to abuse his authority again, and Parliament was dissolved".

The stilted history particularly struck me in the Court's various answers to the Government's claim that because the writ didn't run to either Hanover or Scotland, it shouldn't run to Cuba. As the Court described the argument,

"The Government argues in turn that Guantanamo is more closely analagous to Scotland and Hanover, territories that were not part of England but nonetheless controlled by the English monarch (in his separate capacities as King of Scotland and Elector of Hanover). "

The court goes on repeatedly to discuss both entities as if they had something in common at the time of the founding, interspersing such oddities as Berwick upon Tweed and Guernsey in the mix. But these places really had nothing in common at all at that time. First, of course, no person was ever King of Scotland and Elector of Hanover at the same time. The Kingdom of Scotland ceased to exist in 1707 with the Act of Union, and the first joint King of Great Britain and Elector of the Holy Roman Empire, George I, took the British crown in 1714. Having conflated the timing, the Court proceeds to explain the English Court's reluctance to issue writs of habeas corpus against imprisonments in both Scotland (and Hanover) as driven by prudential concerns - "Given the English Crown's (an entity which, technically, didn't exist) delicate and complicated relationships with Scotland and Hanover in the 1700's, we cannot disregard the possibility that the common law courts' refusal to issue the writ to these places was motivated not by formal legal constructs but by what we would think of as prudential concerns."

While we probably can't "disregard" that theory, as to Hanover this seems plainly wrong. However one understands the status of Scotland in the late 18th century (and there is debate here - Justice Scalia explains on p. 22 of his dissent), there can be no misunderstanding the position of Hanover, which had literally nothing to do with the English crown, the Scottish Crown, the British crown, or anything else having to do with the British isles. Issuing a writ of habeas corpus in favor of a prisoner in Hanover would be something like having a US court issue a writ of habeas corpus in favor of a prisoner held by German authorities, on the basis that President Bush also happened to be German Chancellor. It's not a matter of prudential self restraint, but of formality - Hanover was deeply, utterly foreign, ruled by a German Duke who also was an Elector of the Holy Roman Empire, bound to the Emperor in some vague and difficul to understand ways, governed by a completely continental legal system. The English Courts would have had about as much luck issuing writs of habeas corpus to Frederick the Great as to the Elector of Hanover.

I realize that this is all very strange to the modern ear, but that's how people of the time thought. They understood the composite state, the personal union, and it would never have occurred to them that some court in a different country might somehow be able to compel the sovereign of some other country, who happened to be the same person for the time being, to do anything much at all.

Does all this undermine the Court's decision? No, not as such, I guess. But I wonder how much of the Court's history would still be standing if some enterprising person were to look deeply into the Court's various uses of European history in the last few years especially.

Pineapple

A friend of mine brought me a pineapple from Reunion, the French owned island, east of Madagascar. And then he showed me this novel way of cutting out the pineapple's eyes. A little time consuming, but great theatre. As for the pineapple itself, it was every bit the equal of the extraordinary pineapples we had in Hawaii last year.

100 things to eat before you die

The first clue that this list of 100 things you should eat before you die is too conservative is that I've eaten 94 of them, and one of them is a cigar, which I wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole.

Palin interlude

I wrote and erased a post yesterday mocking Palin as McCain's choice. Elite conservatives can be just as arrogant as elite liberals, after all. Frankly, I thought she wouldn't be able to string two words together.

Right, so - mea culpa. Mea culpa. Mea maxima culpa.

PS: Oh, and Palin was too mean to Obama? I mean, really. The attacks gently mocked a hugely gifted man who's been convinced that he's the second coming and happily tells everyone so. Boo hoo.

Read Paul for the opposing opinion.

French poverty

One of the most powerful arguments that the American left has in favor of its agenda of increasing the Federal government's economic intervention is, in a word, Europe.  "Look", they say. "Europe spends much more of its people's money on public goods and social justice, and just look at the effects on poverty and on the country's infrastructure." 

I don't have too much of an argument on infrastructure.  European infrastructure is, in some ways, much better, though much of it in ways that aren't especially useful to Americans.  The French train system is so comfortable and fast that the only discomfort I felt while traveling the 800 kilometers from Paris to Marseilles in 3 hours was the embarrassment of comparing the trip to my commutes last month on the Acela, which takes the same time to travel half the distance for twice the price.  But where outside the Bos-NY-Wash corridor could we build such a train? Our country is to big too have spokes of trains coming out of New York or Washington, like the TGV emanates from Paris. 

But poverty and social justice?  As a starting point, I think it's clear that France has reached a point very close to the Laffer Curve - that is, broadly, the point where lowering taxes would raise more revenue.  I know for sure that if I was French, and told that I could make almost as much money by lazing at a prestigious government job rather than busting myself working for private industry, I would pack it in overnight and start planning my month-long Provence holiday. 

But are things really better for the poor in France?  I really can't tell.  On one hand, the government benefits are obviously more generous.  But on the other, I have never seen in New York, the jungle of poverty, scenes like I saw in the richest arrondissement in Paris during this vacation - poor men coming almost to blows over the grocery store's trash can, and two others trying to breath air into their friend's wheezing lungs after his emergence from what I took to be some sort of giant dumpster.   I would say that we're better at pushing poverty off to the unseen sides, except that Europeans have long claimed with pride that their superiority had something to do with the fact that you didn't see poor people on their streets.  Well, you do.  And they're more desperate than the ones on ours, in my experience on this trip and others.  So where does that leave us? 

Le Comptoir

As I mentioned in my post below, probably the most important trend in restaurant cooking recently had been the "gastropub" and its descendants.  Good food, in other words, in relaxed surroundings. 

Le Comptoir is one of the first French manifestations of that trend, a casual bistro attached to a hotel that serves updated but rustic food of the highest sophistication.   No, no veloute, but a braised, de-boned, pig's foot rolled in a web of pork fat, breaded and fried, a truly shocking package of deep fatty flavor.  As part of a tasting menu, it would have been overwhelming, but as a main course, cut through with a tartly lemon salad, it was magnificent.  One of the greatest single dishes I've ever had the pleasure of eating.  But, of course, my fiancee's osso bucco, braised then roasted, tinged with tandoori spices, set in a yogurty sauce and served with fresh garden vegetables, wasn't far behind.  Unlike most fusions of this sort, the tandoori spices almost made the meal taste more french, somehow more authentic.  Cheap (3 euro) glasses of wine complete an exceptional package - the fact that the restaurant is relaxed, and comfortable, and open for continuous service all day and even throughout August is just the cherry on top. 

A contract to enforce weight loss

We were sitting at a pizza restaurant last night, not quite recovered from our trip, and heard a woman behind us saying that she had written a contract with her brother saying that if she hadn't lost 40 pounds by next year, she'd have to pay a $10,000 penalty.  Her brother had also promised, in the contract, to sue her.  

Oh, man,  what a contract law exam question, with a little embellishment.

America v. France: The foodly state of play

Before getting bogged down in descriptions of individual restaurants and foods, I wanted to write a quick description of where I think the US/France balance stands in terms of food (and by US/France balance, I really mean France/New York balance, since I am deeply familiar with the food scene here, which is also reputed among the best in the country) . For reference, I'll note that I cooked at least one meal a day at home every day during the vacation, in both Paris and Cassis in the south. We also ate at two 1-star michelin restaurants, and a couple of others listed in the guide, including one "bib gourmand" (good value food).   

High Cuisine - Admittedly, my impressions are based on a limited sample. We had a full dinner at Hostellerie Berard in La Cadiere D'Azur, and one smaller meal at Les Fables De la Fontaine in Paris (both blessed with one star). I enjoyed Berard more than our tasting menu at Le Bernardin (my clear favorite in New York), which cost twice as much and boasts 3 Michelin stars in the American guide. Our meal at Berard was simply flawless and served with extraordinary grace.   

Casual high cuisine  - by this I mean the new breed of restaurants that prize cooking over service or setting.  Gastropubs in England, Ko (my thoughts) and Little Owl and Peasant (my thoughts) and the Spotted Pig in New York, or Cafe Constant or Le Comptoir in Paris.  Our efforts in New York in this genre are excellent, in their own ways - I still remember a truly great beet and smoked trout salad at the Spotted Pig, but the de-boned, braised, rolled, and then fried pig's foot at Le Comptoir is one of the greatest dishes I've ever had, and my fiance's tandoori spiced veal breast was close behind.  I still think we have space to improve here. 

Diversity - France has none of any note (please, spare me traiteurs chinois, and kebab stands, and the occasional tagine specialists - I've eaten at all of them, and they're not like New York).  New York is one of the great culinary melting pots. A New Yorker craves sushi and thai when in Paris, even while gorging him or herself on the best of France. 

Bread - France continues a slow decline, but there is still bread that makes the best in New York pale. A "pain de campagne" of wild sourdough from the Cassis market stands out especially. My fiance says it was the best bread she's ever had. I think it's damned close, but then I've eaten a lot of bread.

Vienoisserie (croissants, brioche, pain au chocolat, etc) - I'm not even sure this is worth describing. In short - every bakery in France is as good or better than La Bergamote, which is the best croissant bakery in New York. Yes, some in France are using frozen product, but even so do a better job of getting it to rise properly than their American counterparts. But when you get hold of someone making their own - oh gosh.   I had numerous extraordinary croissants, but right now I remember that at Boulanger Julien. 

Chicken, poultry - The quality of French chickens is unsurpassed (I had an amazing farm raised bird in the south, which delighted even though cooked in a convection oven I knew nothing about). Having said that, some of the best Pennsylvania chickens are very good. I wouldn't move to France for chickens alone.

Cakes - Like croissants, this isn't a fair competition. I had an eclair at Le Moulin de la Vierge the first day which laid to rest any doubts I had about my palate memories when I whine about New York cakes.  Every cake I had in Paris was better than its equivalent here. 

Fruits, Eggs, Vegetables - I buy the most expensive fruits and vegetables here in New York, from both Whole Foods and, more important, from the Union Square Greenmarket, in season and local.  Nothing could have prepared me for the first peche blanches I had in Paris, nor for the raspberries, nor for the wild strawberries, nor for anything else I bought at the market or fruitier.  We are doing something very very wrong when it comes to produce.  

As for eggs, we had two weeks of the best omelettes I've ever had, with good butter and eggs from the cheesemaker and the market. 

Ice cream - New York newcomer Grom is excellent (my thoughts) and their pistachio flavor remains my favorite, but we were utterly startled by the ice cream in the gardens of Versailles.  The best fruit flavored ice cream I have ever had - the apricot especially was revelatory.  

Cheese - Again, I realize that Americans have been doing some great work recently, but French cheese making is hugely diverse and blessed by some of the best raw product (and really raw, since French cheesemakers are unhampered by stupid laws) in the world. What to do at home? I recommend sticking with young goat's cheeses (which we do well with) and our own cheddars and similar. Leave young, soft, cheeses like camembert for France.  

Back from France

I'm back from France, where I had a truly great time. Much food and culture related blogging will ensue.

Till then, my aphorism for the trip - "the difference between New York and Paris is that in Paris, the people smell worse than the city."

France

I've been silent because I've been getting ready to go to France. Preparations have been long, but now most everything is set. We have rented apartments in Paris and in Cassis, and and several restaurants have been booked, a car reserved, TGV tickets ready, and thoughts about activities noted down. The one interesting thing is that while many of the top Parisian restaurants are closed for the holiday month, everything in the south is open. Full reports from my iphone, to the extent I have Wifi, will be forthcoming.

Laminated Doughs

Aran says something very important:

To this day, I believe a good pastry shop distinguishes itself by the quality of their laminated doughs such as mille-feuilles and croissants.

This has always been my view. A good croissant is something special. And rare, these days, as more and more bakers (even French bakers) buy frozen.

How much chefs earn

I think that people get caught up in the glamor of professional cooking without realizing that there are far easier ways of earning big bucks than slaving away in a hot kitchen. For the average chef, of course, life is a fairly unrewarding grind, from a financial point of view - they may get to do what they love, but what they love doesn't pay. But even the biggest chefs are a little less well-off than you might imagine. Here, for example, is an article from Forbes estimating the earning power of some of the culinary world's biggest stars.

Most striking? People like Mario Batali, owner of 13 restaurants and an endless parade of marketing opportunities, pulls in $3 million. Is that a lot of money? Of course. But Batali is probably the single most famous American chef. He is literally at the pinnacle of his profession, and his financial peers can be counted on two hands. By contrast, my guess is that there are at least 500 law partners in New York who do as well or better, with a career arc at that earning level of at least 20 years (which may not be true of Batali).

Which would I rather be doing? Obviously, I'd rather cook. But the disparity signals that either lawyers are a lot better at extracting money from the people who need them, or chefs are really bad at it. From conversations with people in the industry, I suspect a lot of it is the latter.

The vanished gourmet

The biggest story in the food world right now has got to be the disappearance of Pascal Henry, who was attempting to eat in all 62 3-Michelin starred restaurants in the world. He vanished after a 32 course effort at El Bulli.

The most interesting detail to me? Le Monde reported yesterday that he had gained 7-8 kilos on the trip. Frankly, I'm surprised it was so little.

joe's noodle house

" You don't want the salted fish" said the friendly woman manning the counter at Joe's noodle house, tucked in a grim strip mall in Rockville, MD. "Basil. You get basil."

"But I want salted fish", I bleated.

"No. It's for Chinese. Too strong".

I should have insisted. Without the pungent flavor of the mysterious salted fish, my hot pot with chicken and eggplant wasn't near as flavorful as I imagined when I saw it on the specials board. It was too bad, because my soft tofu was promising in it's fiery sauce.

Next time, I won't be so easily put. Spicy tripe, here I come.

Jamon Iberico

I recently had the opportunity to nibble on a few pieces of Jamon Iberico, which Wegman's (clearly the best supermarket on the East Coast) is selling for $70 a pound. I'm not a Spanish food expert, but my understanding is that the ham comes from a breed of rare, acorn eating, pigs. If I'm wrong, they sure do somehow taste like acorn - a sort of deep, piggy, acorn.

Still, I suspect this has to be eaten in slightly greater quantity to truly appreciate it. My nibbles were too small, and I was too greedy, to get the most out of it, to work the fat around in my mouth, to feel it melt. Aah. Next time.

Wendy's salad? Never. But Potacho!

To continue pounding away at the idiots in Los Angeles, who are putting a moratorium on new fast food construction in certain impoverished areas, I present the Potacho, the kind of food one can get at the type of sit-down restaurants that are likely to show up in the places they're worried about.

Bob's 66 Noodle Bistro

A much lauded restaurant in suburban Maryland (Cowen here, but he links to all reviews), the clientele of Bob's 66 Noodle Bistro bears witness to its status as the best (or at least most authentically good) Chinese food in the area. The menu's unusual, and packed with spices and offal. To celebrate, I ordered a cold pig's ear salad to start. It was crunchy, and gelatinous, and meaty all at the same time, the potentially overbearing pork wonderfully offset by a searing spice. While I was nibbling at that (and half is with me today for lunch), my thick noodle soup with squid and mushrooms arrived. I could have done without either the tough squid or the relatively flavorless mushroom, and with more of the tasty noodle and broth. In fact, I just turned it into a noodle soup with my spicy fried squid balls, which arrived shortly later and tasted wonderful dunked in the soup (I'm not sure how much I insulted people by doing this, but then, it's not that kind of place).

I'll be back. There's a duck tongue dish on the menu, and I saw an even thicker noodle in someone's plate that I'm going to have to locate. My only problem with restaurants like this is that one is always suspicious that everyone else has a menu you have to make an effort to extract. Even so, the public menu's pretty good.

Maggie Moo's

That's it. I apologize for everything bad I ever said about Pinkberry. Because yesterday, I got a cone at the worst ice cream store I've ever seen. I don't mean just the chain it was part of, though the ice cream itself was milky treacle and little more (is there any excuse these days for ice cream this bad?) I mean the particular store. Specifically, Maggie Moo's in Gaithersburg, Maryland, in the Washingtonian Center, where the manager looked at the line forming due to his own horrible service, blew out his cheeks, and then ambled to the back for a good fifteen minutes, at which point he returned, told a customer they couldn't have a marshmallow "mix-in" effectively because he didn't like mixing in marshmallows, and then wandered off again, leaving in place two even more junior people who would see to the occasional customer in intervals between chatting to their visiting friends, who kept bragging loudly about the 10% discount they were getting. Why didn't I leave? At some point, it's worth staying, just for the scene.

Chicken Out Rotisserie

I felt like some roasted chicken yesterday (too long away from home, I guess), so I visited a successful DC area chain, Chicken Out Rotisserie. The one good thing to say is that the chickens are, as a matter of theory, promising - no antibiotics, no hormones, and so on. In reality, the chicken was a fairly tasteless mass, rendered grainy by a stint in some kind of steam closet, only halfway saved by an attempt at an enthusiastic spice rub tempered heavily by the fear that people don't like spices. Side dishes were similarly lame. However, I did enjoy my cashier's over-the-top enthusiasm. "I hope the gentleman enjoys his soda", he said. "I wish the gentleman a fantastic evening", he added. I did. As soon as I left his restaurant.

LA continued

PG helpfully points me to an LA Times article which discusses the LA fast-food ban. Here's the definition of fast food:

"any establishment which dispenses food for consumption on or off the premises, and which has the following characteristics: a limited menu, items prepared in advance or prepared or heated quickly, no table orders and food served in disposable wrapping or containers."

I can't help but point out the number of problems with this definition. To take a few: Burger King makes its burgers to order (something that supposedly exempts Subway, mentioned later in the article), as does Wendy's. I think the definition is supposed to exempt burrito shops, which are unquestionably just as unhealthy as any of city council's bug bears. Limited menu (as the article mentions) has no definition. It allows me to open any number of restaurants serving fat burgers piled high with bacon so long as I make them to order. It would theoretically ban a fast food low fat vegan restaurant that relies on tofu. Artichoke Pizzeria would be a no go. Etc, etc.

Honestly, wouldn't it be nice if the government could just restrict who it meant to restrict? If you're going to adopt such a paternalistic regulation, just say it applies to McDonald's, Wendy's, KFC, whoever. I'm not a fan of these definitions that try to appear generally applicable, but are actually just efforts to capture some company without naming them.