Serious Eats gives us 11 burgers around the country that are worth the hype. This simple-looking burger from JG Melon looks good enough to troop over to the East Side, don’t it?

You can now get Speculoos here in the States. It’s called Biscoff spread. Gread news for us Belgian-minded Americans. Now, the questions is: Speculoos or Nutella? Aw, hell, why not one of each?

I want. I need.

Still haven’t been out there. But I need. I want.

[Photo Credit: Three to One]

Every day is a good day for Madeleine’s. Man, check out the beautiful site: Three to One.

No matter what you are cooking, as our man, Jacques Pepin likes to say: Happy Cooking.

With mustard or without?

[Picture by Bags]

I’ve tuned into the Nathan’s Hot Dog eating contest a few times. I’d never consider joining an eating contest, but I like a good gross-out as much as the next guy.

Eating challenges, on the other hand, those intrigue me. The Old ’96er for instance. There’s a whole show dedicated to them on the Travel Channel. The few times I’ve been to places that offered a challenge, I was tempted to try it.

Up all night on Monday at a concert in Newark, I was empty this Tuesday at lunch. I ordered this:

That’s a Grand Slam from Go Go Curry. A chicken cutlet, a pork cutlet, an egg, two sausages, a fried shrimp all covered in a thick, brown curry. There’s a pile of shredded cabbage on the side. And underneath all that is a mountain of rice. With nothing on the line but my pride and my 12 bucks, I bid adieu to all but the rice. The rice just kept coming and I ended up leaving about a handful on the plate.

Maybe if I wasn’t headed back to work and if I didn’t have to play basketball that night, maybe I could have taken it down. But I was happy I left it there.

How about you guys – what was your biggest eating challenge?

Check the technique.

Made by Hand / No 2 The Knife Maker from Made by Hand on Vimeo.

Ever have “The Luther”?

That’s a burger with bacon on a doughnut. It’s named about Luther Vandross.

I have not tried one.  I gotta admit the truth: I ascared.

[Photo Credit: Scene by Laurie]

Serious Eats presents: 30 Sandwiches We Loved This Year in NYC.

Dig this fine-looking thing from Rubirosa.

Nice piece in the Times on the lost art of buying from a butcher.

How to make cereal milk.

[Photo Credit: ptitchef]

If you’ve never been to this spot, well, what the hell are you waiting for?

Saturday night, 9 PM reservations for four. Two in our group celebrating an anniversary, one of them pregnant. We show up a little early hoping a table is ready. “We’re running on schedule,” says the sleek hostess with dark hair so shiny we see our reflections.

We try the bar, but it’s just a trough at this point, crowded with diners who didn’t have reservations. I love the idea of being able to eat at the bar, but what about people who need to use it as a bar? I guess they need two bars. Our pregnant friend is a trooper but I see her look longingly at the seats.

Several tables look like they are going to leave at any moment, but then they never do. Nine PM approaches and the hostess walks over and assures us that we are going to be seated shortly. “In their laps?” I thought to ask but kept it to myself. Our pregnant friend is shifting weight from one foot to the other and smiling through it all. I learned that dance from my bad knees and bad back.

Nine fourteen. Now everybody is looking at me. Tension is filling our tight space in the walkway between the bar and the tables we long to occupy. I made the reservation, I should be the one to complain. But I’m staring at the hostess the whole time. She’s keeping track of us with an appropriate level of concern. Maybe it’s a relic of my bachelor days, but I can tell when someone is paying attention to me.

A terrible minute passes where my best friend, his pregnant wife and my wife all stare me down trying to get me to act on our growing unrest. But I wait. And yes, the manager gets a whisper from the hostess and he’s on his way.

“I’m so sorry about the wait. I thank you for your patience,” he says. “Can I help in any way?” I ask if he has an extra seat available for our pregnant friend. He does. Our friend sits and relaxes for the first time since we got there. “Now we can wait forever.”

We wait for fifteen more minutes, not exactly forever, and receive one more visit from another contrite manager. We finally sit down and enjoy a lovely meal. And when we talk about the wait, which we only do for about thirty seconds, we talk about how well they handled it and how they defused the tension.

Privately, I think they could have found that chair the second we walked in, but I can also chalk that up to not asking for it sooner. I don’t mention it though, because I don’t want to spoil the good mood.

I have never been to The Meatball Shop.

But that is something I aim to change.

[Photo Credit: truth.travel]

Serious Eats gives us a recipe for spicy beer mustard.

Why the hell not? Hey, I just wanted an excuse to post this damn picture.

From Eater, here’s a brief Q&A with Eric Ripert on the Art of Fine Dining and Not Being a Jerk:

ER: I used to be a very authoritative chef — a young, borderline violent dictator. Very intolerant, insulting my cooks, screaming in the kitchen, breaking china. But I wasn’t happy and my team wasn’t happy. In 2000, I started to contemplate what had gone on in my career. I was losing a lot of employees and was confused. So I decided to change the way we manage people. I realized that you couldn’t be happy if you had anger. It’s a very simple thought. But it helped me decide to not be abusive any longer. We decided to change.

But how did you manage to transmit that to your staff?

ER: It took me a long time to pass that to my cooks — there was a lot of resilience. I couldn’t yell at someone for yelling, so I had to be very patient and explain that yelling is not good. First of all, you’re not happy. Second, the cook you just yelled at is scared. Third, the team isn’t happy. And it creates an ambiance in the kitchen which is not productive. I want a peaceful environment. It took us a while, but today we have arrived at a certain level of management where the team is happy to be together and work together, and it stays that way even at our busiest times. The chefs don’t yell and scream, and there is no drama.

Sometimes we have lapses. It’s not like every day is joyful. But when we have a bad day, we recognize it and try to compensate for the mistake and move on. Sometimes a guy will flip.

Do you ever flip?

ER: The other day I said something mean to a sous chef. I didn’t really scream, but I knew I got him. I regretted it, apologized, and that was that.

But I notice the success in the turnover. People will stay, even line cooks, for three years. They feel that they are part of the experiment, and they realize that you can do good food, under pressure, without being an asshole.

Go figure that.

Nicole Franzen visits the greenmarket.

Serious Eats finds the best Vietnamese sandwich in New York.

[Photo Credit: Plate of the Day and Serious Eats]

A few weeks ago I bet my old pal Johnny Red Sox that his team would make the playoffs. He said they were going to blow it. Here’s the bet: If the Sox won, he takes me out to dinner. If they lost, I take him out.

Figured it was a win-win for me. Now, let’s just hope his tastes are reasonable. That doesn’t mean Gray’s Papaya, but let’s hope it doesn’t mean Del Posto either.

My mom was in town and came over for dinner last night. Ted Berg had given me some of the pulled pork he cooked over the weekend so I figured I’d make a couple of sandwiches, and as luck would have it, mom brought a loaf of challah. I’m not sure why, maybe in honor of the Jewish New Year that I don’t celebrate. She doesn’t celebrate it either, though she was once been coerced into “converting” to Judaism.That expired, at least in spirit, well before she divorced my dad. Still, maybe she brought the challah to remember the old days. Or just because she thinks it is delicious.

Anyhow, the bread was ideal for the pork, and we topped it with some homemade coleslaw and a vinegary bbq sauce.  I usually only think of challah for french toast but it’s more than lovely for a pulled pork sandwich too.

Happy New Year, indeed.

[Photo Credit: James Ransom for Food 52]