From SAVEUR Issue #154
I was walking down a narrow street in the suburbs of Chengdu, the capital of China's Sichuan province, when I spotted what I'd been hoping to spot for days: a tricycle. No ordinary conveyance, this; it was a mobile food vendor of the sort that specialized in dou hua, super-soft tofu drenched in black vinegar and chile-infused oil, topped with scallions, peanuts, pickled turnips, and fried shallots. The vendor ladled tofu from a basin in the back of the trike into a little plastic bowl, seasoned it, and handed it to me. With a thin plastic spoon, I scooped up a bite and put it in my mouth. Heaven. The tofu was warm and silky, with a hint of smoke, against which the garnishes were a rainbow of salty, sour, pungent contrast. Far too soon, my bowl was empty. Keep reading »
Travels
Current Issue
The Feed
The flu-ravaged and freezing Northeast hasn't been a terribly fun place to spend time this winter, so when the opportunity came to decamp for a weekend to Sarasota, Florida, my bags were packed before you could say "sunshine." I departed for the land of warmth and vitamin C, visions of beaches and orange groves dancing in my head. When we touched down to blue skies and balmy air, I sent up a small prayer of gratitude. Swimming pools, wine tasting, and pink sunsets (at normal twilight hours, not 4 in the afternoon) filled the weekend, but the highlight—particularly to my palate, dulled by months of cold-weather root vegetables—was a 7 a.m. foray to the Sarasota farmers' market that proved to be more than worth the early wakeup call. Keep reading »
From SAVEUR Issue #154
For the past two years I've been taking photographs of the kitchens of Havana, Cuba. I started almost accidently. On a visit to the island in December of 2010, I met a Cuban photographer named Carlos Otero Blanco. We discovered that we shared a passion for interiors—Carlos had recently self-published a book of photographs of bedrooms from all over Cuba, and I'd started shooting kitchens in New York. For each of us, these rooms had a certain pull and charisma. We decided to try taking pictures of kitchens in Havana—a spontaneous shared undertaking that turned into an ongoing solitary project. Keep reading »
From SAVEUR Issue #154
My understanding of American culinary history was turned on its head after visiting the Janice Bluestein Longone Culinary Archive. It was there I learned how Jewish American cookery was once celebrated more for okra-based gumbos than matzo ball soups, and how, back in George Washington's day, the apples in apple pie were often substituted with, oddly enough, peas. Located inside the University of Michigan's William L. Clements Library in Ann Arbor, the collection is home to more than 20,000 items, including cookbooks dating back to the 1500s, early Chez Panisse menus, vintage advertisements, even an 1888 Manhattan saloon map. Keep reading »
I met my first oyster when I was 12 and decided that we would never be friends. I was at a swanky seafood restaurant in Milan, Italy, with my meat-and-fish loving family who had been trying, unsuccessfully, to cure me of my staunch vegetarianism. I don't know why they thought oysters on the shell would do the trick, when much more appetizing-looking fare had failed. The one oyster (flown all the way from France, I was told) that was forcibly put on my plate looked raw, slimy, and highly suspect. I clung to my noble notions of vegetarianism and the oyster lived to see another plate. Keep reading »
From SAVEUR Issue #153
As an Italian-American with Neapolitan roots, I used to think there was nothing better than what my cousins called mutz: a ball of fresh, milky mozzarella. But that was before I discovered burrata: silky-soft sacks of mozzarella filled with stracciatella, strands of mozzarella bathed extravagantly in cream. I had a further formaggio revelation last year after I moved to Rome and discovered pizza con stracciatella di burrata at the just-opened Eataly. Keep reading »
From SAVEUR Issue #153
Pie heaven just might be in Topeka, Kansas, at Bradley's Corner Café, where there are never fewer than 20 crimp-crusted beauties on offer at a time: pies of perfectly caramelized summer peaches, bracingly sour apple-cranberry, countless riffs on classic pecan. Keep reading »
Is there a luncheon meat more maligned in the public imagination than bologna? Even in New York, where high-low edible mash ups are practically de rigueur (seriously, we have an artisanal mayonnaise shop here), bologna has largely escaped a makeover. While other cafeteria-era favorites have been gussied up and repackaged as hip, bologna remains at the bottom of the totem pole, ignored in favor of artisanal pastrami and gourmet hot dogs. Maybe it's because of this American prejudice, but I've never been able to understand what makes mortadella—bologna's Italian cousin—anything special. That is, until I visited Emilia-Romagna. Keep reading »
From SAVEUR Issue #153
Using the plate like a canvas, chef Martha Ortiz, daughter of the celebrated Mexican artist Martha Chapa, crafts vivid designs at her Mexico City restaurant Dulce Patria, adding brilliant strokes of color and delicate textures that reveal the rich layers of Mexican history and her own personal experiences. Keep reading »
From SAVEUR Issue #153
When I check into Paris's Mandarin Oriental, I never want to leave my room; some days, I barely do. I just stay in my robe, dining grandly on the stellar room service. Mornings bring city-themed breakfasts. A dashimaki omelette and grilled sea bream make up the Tokyo repast. Eggs, coffee, and a pastrami sandwich? New York, of course. The Parisian petit dejeuner features croissants, Bigorre ham, and champagne. Midday is for international grazing. At midnight, I call down for a snack: a vibrantly spiced nasi goreng (Indonesian fried rice) and the ultimate nightcap, a bittersweet chocolate mousse. I sleep like a baby.



