Debris
«chaque notaire porte en soi les débris d’un poète.»Archive for food
Intact Brain
Muddy Waters Coffee Shop, State Highway 61, Charleston, SC
We saw the band setting up, but unfortunately didn’t have time to hear them play. Young Alfie loved the paintings. And the coffee and snacks were very good.
Southern Inn Restaurant
I had a very delicious dinner — trout with roasted pepper polenta and deep fried carrots — at this restaurant during my recent visit to Lexington, Virginia. But I didn’t park in the rear.
Tuberiffic!
I don’t know how I managed to get this far into 2008 without knowing that this is, by UN declaration, the International Year of the Potato. Mrs. Debris, who, true to her Polish heritage, is a potato fanatic, will be delighted.
In honor of this important celebration, I hereby pledge to dedicate myself during the balance of the year to eating as many pierogies, latkes, bramborové knedlíky, kropkakkor, Kartoffelkloesse, tortillas de patata, and other spudly treats as possible.
Adieu, Florent
Yesterday’s New York Times brought the sad news that Florent, a popular bistro in Manhattan’s meat-packing district for two decades, will close at the end of June. I haven’t been to Florent in more than 10 years — half a lifetime ago for the downtown fixture — but it was, when I lived in New York, among my favorite places.
My last visit was with some law school friends in the course of a post-bar exam night of revelry. Famished in the wee hours of the morning, we naturally headed to Gansevoort street, where Florent’s pink neon sign remained lit around the clock. I had what I always had: steak-frites (“the alimentary sign of Frenchness” according to Roland Barthes).
I moved away from New York just a few days later; I’ve seldom been back since, and never managed to get to Florent on any of those rare visits. I’m torn between sadness at missing the chance to visit an old friend one more time, and contentment at having such happy and lasting memories of my last visit all those years ago. Adieu, Florent; you will be missed, but never forgotten.
Yogurt
Like Salon’s Kate Hardin, I love full-fat yogurt, and I hate yogurt ads. This InfoMania report is simply delicious.
Huckabee is a laughing-stock, but not because he likes squirrel
Look, I’m no fan of Mike Huckabee. He’s a yahoo religious fanatic wolf in populist sheep’s clothing. But making fun of him for admitting to eating squirrel is nothing more than effete urban middle-class liberal prejudice. Even a Yankee transplant like me knows enough to appreciate Piedmont delicacies like Brunswick Stew. Of course, as the late lamented Scruggs would no doubt have been the first to note if he were still among us, the Kossak squirrels probably just fear they’ll end up on dinner plates themselves.
Food for thought
Yet another academic book about a staple food item and how it changed or explains the World. Beans: A History is undoubtedly a fascinating read, deserving a place on the shelf alongside such other classics of the genre as Salt: A World History, Cod: A Biography of the Fish That Changed the World, Spice: The History of Temptation, The Potato: How the Humble Spud Rescued the Western World, and The Story of Corn. Personally, I can’t understand why nobody has yet written The Rutabaga: How a Simple Swedish Turnip Altered the Course of History and Rescued Mankind From Certain Doom.
Sirloin and sexual stereotypes
The New York Times has uncovered the shocking fact that there are women who eat beef. According to the paper of record, “Women order a steak to show they’re one of the guys, and they don’t have ‘food issues.’” Funny, I always thought that women who ordered a steak did so because they, um, like steak.
