Tipping, always a lively topic (read all about it here).

Me? In a full-service restaurant, I tip 20 percent, minimum, and go up to 25 percent if the service exceeded expectations. As for tip jars, I usually -- but not always -- toss in a small gratuity. At Punch Neapolitan Pizza, for example, it's a dollar or two; at Starbucks, it might be the leftover change from my purchase. I budget tipping as part of the cost of dining out. 

All diners have tipping tales, and here's one of mine, from long ago. My friends and I left a downtown Minneapolis restaurant and were out on the sidewalk saying goodbye to one another when our server approached us. "May I ask a question?" she said, timidly. "Sure," said one of my friends. "Was there something about my service that you didn't like?" I was flabbergasted, as she had been a terrific server: Smart, conversational, funny, attentive, observant and hospitable, exactly what a diner hopes to encounter, and I told her as much. "Then why did you leave me a four-percent tip?" she said. 

Huh? I thought I'd left something in the range of 23 percent. Wrong. Turns out I'd miscalculated, probably because I was talking and laughing with my friends rather than taking a few moments to concentrate on the very serious matter of correctly computing the tip. It was a mortifying way to chalk up a learned-the-hard-way lesson.

We all quickly pulled cash out of our pockets and rectified the situation. Heck, we probably overtipped, to compensate for our embarrassment. When she returned inside, a lively discussion ensued: Should she have approached us, or kept quiet?

I voted for the former -- she rightly assumed that we had been pleased with her service, and I felt it was not out of bounds for her to ask why our paltry tip didn't reflect that  -- but several pals disagreed. What do you think?

"It's surreal that I'm here because I identify as a dishwasher," Gabrielle Hamilton told the full house Tuesday at the gathering at the central Minneapolis downtown library. Gabrielle, 45, the author of "Blood, Bones & Butter" and chef/owner of the restaurant Prune in New York City (which won Best Chef NYC from the James Beard Awards in 2011) was there as part of the "Talk of the Stacks" series and to promote the new paperback version of her book.

The petite writer/ chef, dressed in a simple gray jumper, white oxford shirt and gray shrug sweater, her horn-rimmed glasses in place as she read from her book, looked more demure scholar than bad-ass chef for the occasion, despite the knee-high leather boots.

 "I always wanted to be a writer," she told the roomful of fans in Pohlad Hall at the library. She spent most of the hour reading excerpts from her book, but noted that her hectic writing schedule to meet the book's deadline happened while her restaurant was just starting up and her two children were babies. "All these opportunities were in front of me and I couldn't turn any of it down."

When asked why she went with a 30-seat restaurant when the business model for success indicates at least a 60-seat restaurant is necessary, she said, "I took the restaurant that was available. I spent as much on it as I did on my student loans." Those would be loans for her MFA degree in fiction writing from the University of Michigan-Ann Arbor. She had headed off to a master's program after realizing that her first love had been writing; cooking and restaurant work were what she had fallen into as a teenager. "Be careful what you become good at because that's what you'll end up doing," a friend had once told her.

If given a choice between reading a book or checking out a new restaurant, she said, "My choice is to read a book. I will eat later."

Her ideas for the menu come from the canon of classic recipes -- and that includes roast chicken -- she said in response to an  audience question. "I'm in the traditionalist or classicist vein. I'm not a trend follower. Fortunately my restaurant is still relevant." See her comments on video about cooking food that you're passionate about.

She expressed outrage at how chefs are portrayed in TV reality shows, in stark contrast to the generosity and helpfulness that she has experienced in restaurants herself. "If you watch TV, you would think chefs steal sauces and knives and prevent peers from winning. It's heart-breaking." She noted, "I feel an essay brewing in me."

Photo by Melissa Hamilton. Gabrielle in Italy.

Noting the difficulty of writing the memoir, she said she longed for the simplicity of writing a cookbook, which she will apparently be doing as she's told others in interviews that she has a contract. 

The paperback version of her book has an extra chapter that brings Gabrielle's life up-to-date. She's divorced now, her children are 5 and 7, and her mother-in-law, who plays a prominent role in the book, is still active and present in Gabrielle's life.

Gabrielle spoke with me in an interview before the reading. You can read the Q and A  and find out her response to young cooks who want their own restaurants right now.

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Out and about on Saturday afternoon? Make a plan to drop by the Seward Co-op in Minneapolis between 2 and 5 p.m. and meet “Trout Caviar” author Brett Laidlaw. 

The St. Paul writer will be chatting up his book, a beautifully written chronicle of his life as a Northland forager and cook (find a Q&A with Laidlaw here). Along with selling and signing copies, Laidlaw will also be plying shoppers with snacks from the book; as a die-hard fan of Real Bread, the farmers market stand that Laidlaw and spouse Mary Eckmeier ran for nearly a decade, I can safely predict that the nibbles will be delicious.

While you’re there, be sure to congratulation Laidlaw: “Trout Caviar” is one of four finalists in the general non-fiction category for the 2012 Minnesota Book Awards. It's a well-deserved accolade, and the winner will be announced in April.

My soup story in today's Taste features the awesome hot-and-sour soup at Big Bowl (pictured, above, in a photo by my colleague Tom Wallace). The restaurant's founder, Bruce Cost, published a Big Bowl cookbook in 2000. It contains a make-at-home version of the restaurant's hot-and-sour soup. It's not quite the same -- the restaurant nurtures its own pork stock, daily, while this recipe calls for widely available chicken stock. But it's close. Give it a shot.

Oh, and Cost, one of the nation's leading authorities on Asian cuisines, bottles his refreshing fresh ginger ales.. Pick them up Kowalski's, Cub Foods, United Noodles, Lunds and Byerly's and Caribou Coffee.

BIG BOWL’S HOT AND SOUR SOUP

Makes 6 servings.

Note: Adapted from “Big Bowl Noodles and Rice” by Bruce Cost (William Morrow).

For soup:

1 c. matchstick-cut pork loin

3 tbsp. soy sauce, divided

Hot water

24 small dried tree ears (black fungus)

6 dried shiitake mushrooms (black mushrooms)

6 tbsp. red wine vinegar

1 tbsp. kosher salt

1 ½ tsp. sugar

3 tbsp. peanut oil

3/4 c. matchstick-cut bamboo shoots

6 c. chicken stock (or pork stock, if available)

1 c. matchstick-cut firm tofu

3 tbsp. cornstarch, mixed with 2 tablespoons water

3 eggs, slightly beaten with a few drops of sesame oil

For garnish:

1 ½ tsp. dark Asian sesame oil

1 ½ tsp. freshly ground white pepper

3 tbsp. sliced green onions

3 tbsp. cilantro leaves

Directions

In a small bowl, combine pork with 1½ tablespoons soy sauce. Cover and refrigerate.

In a medium bowl, combine dried tree ears and mushrooms. Pour hot water over mushrooms, enough to cover. Let stand 30 minutes, then drain water. Cut off and discard hard mushroom stems, slice across mushroom caps and reserve.

In a small bowl, combine vinegar, remaining soy sauce, salt and sugar and reserve.

Heat a wok or a heavy Dutch oven over high heat. Add peanut oil and, when hot, quickly saute pork until meat changes color. Add tree ears, mushrooms and bamboo shoots. Saute briefly. Add chicken stock (or pork stock) and bring to a boil. Add tofu and vinegar mixture. Stir cornstarch-water mixture and add to wok. Reduce heat. Using a spoon, stir soup slowly in one direction and pour in beaten egg in a thin stream.

Ladle soup into bowls. Drizzle with the sesame oil, season with pepper and sprinkle with green onions and cilantro.