We have a new contributor—he prefers to remain anonymous, so we’ll just call him The Baker. His
recipes review classic American cookery from new vistas. With his
admiration for tradition but penchant for innovation, he brings an
alternative aesthetic to conventional desserts.
Rye Pecan Pie with Buttermilk Ice Cream (Recipe after the jump.) Continue reading
“The photographs are not illustrative. They, and the text, are
co-equal, mutually independent, and fully collaborative.” James Agee, Let Us Now Praise Famous Men, xi.
Piglet is squealing.
Mark Ladner, chef at Del Posto, wears square granny glasses and blue
latex gloves. With a practiced snap to check for fit, Ladner bends over
the cutting board.
Pig: Sus scrofa domesticus: child-like. Its hairy and pink
skin reflexes upon palpitation; it snuffles to the human touch. Cradled
in the arms of a pubescent girl, its heart beats in languid, muffled,
contented ka-thumps. It avoids cold, wet, and windy weather, preferring
the safe habitations of a straw-lined litter. In the bluster of a
kitchen, the pig peeks its pointed head between open oven doors,
inquires into burbling pots, and trips, nervous, as though made
uncomfortable by the warm voices far overhead. They speak of dinner and
death. Continue reading
After stewing a chicken in butter,
I had a thigh, a breast, and a drumstick left over. For lunch the next
day, I made chicken salad—only problem: no mayonnaise. Frankly, I’m not a
huge mayonnaise fan, and my ____ salads (tuna, ham, chicken, turkey,
etc.) trend towards easy on the mayo. Still, ____ salad needs a creamy,
sweet edge. I did my best with a limited pantry, and I think the
resulting chicken salad, minus mayo, turned out exceptionally well.
Whether you want a respite from goopy, gloppy salads or have mustard no mayo, this recipe does the trick. Continue reading
Thomas Keller poaches lobsters in butter, so I figured I could do
the same with a chicken. Unfortunately, I didn’t have a gallon of melted
butter, so I cheated with a little stock. It’s imperative that you use a
high quality butter—Land O’Lakes isn’t going to cut it, if only because
it lacks a really pure ‘butter’ flavor. I used a cultured, European
style butter. The extra buck or two pays off—with a lighter wallet, you
can look forward to a rich, comforting pot of chicken lovin’. Continue reading
I don’t write very much poetry, and I don’t publish most of it here (The Donut Shop, Natchez, Mississippi to
the contrary). Wednesday night, I was sitting in my U.S. Intellectual
History 1865-Present lecture, listening to a talk about James Baldwin
and company, when I felt inspired to jot down a quick poem. Its
tangential commitment to food makes it appropriate for this website
(which I suspect will be publishing more content with no relationship to
food whatsoever soon).
Love Letter in a Lecture Hall
she smelled like tandoor and buttered nan
thick curry, chaat, chutney, paneer
[in electric lecture halls
the press of flesh and coffee cups make
like finding fiends in cham cham clouds]
she held a blue Bic and I loved it
Dear Blake, she wrote, her face obscured
behind my blinkers,
stewed love in secret pots.
Love told can be
scratched out before
the pumping pause of hearts unhinged.