Oat Couture Every writer has readers who reside only in his or her brain, and right now my tenants are clamoring for an opinion about the fifth season's first episode of Project Runway. What's the cerebral word-of-mouth? They're all a bit worried. Any go-round of a formula show risks repetition, yet until last Wednesday, Runway avoided the inevitable. That time, though, the contestant virgins seemed to be familiar versions or types, and in an unnecessary obeisance to the first year's premiere, the new cast was sent again to a … [Read more...]
Jerk
Jerk chicken Now here's an ethical problem, one that applies to the culinary as well as the musical arts. The New York Times recently featured in its Wednesday food section a smooth, workaday article about jerk cooking in the city, along with a couple of someone-else-will-try recipes. Jerk, of course, is no longer exotic, and even if you non-Jamaicans have never eaten anything jerk, you've probably read that it's hot in a spiced-ham rather than tandoori style and, to be real, requires a particular pepper (with the delightful name "Scotch … [Read more...]
I Have Never Depended on the Kindness of Judges, but …
...Yesterday's court-tossed wedding bouquet was caught by me and thousands of others who will visit City Halls all over California in a state of "finally" and make it legal. Of course, the decision to allow queer marriage can be reversed by referendumb as soon as November. In the meantime, here's a quasi-update to my very last, coincidental post, "Gay Rice": So, ladies and gents and everyone in between, why has it taken so long to have a pissy little gay wedding on network television? Yes, we're in California, not Massachusetts, so no … [Read more...]
Gay Rice
Down the Aisle, Slowly It took the supposedly liberal New York City mayor David Dinkins ages to come to his political and humanistic senses and order City Hall to issue domestic partnership certificates. That was January, 1993, more than 15 years ago, and it seemed late in coming even then. No money for city employee health benefits, previously promised, came with the mingy declaration; Dinkins was and will forever be an accountant. (Sample certificate is above. I don't know who the fine gents on this particular document are, although … [Read more...]
Fugu, or Risk
Ankimo, a silken Japanese small-dish prepared from the scarce monkfish's hefty liver, gives up a rich, accordioned delight that we usually associate with love or art and rarely with death. First, there's the elegance of its miniature presentation. Then, with the slightest pressure between mouth and tongue, the steamed morsel becomes something neither liquid nor solid and takes hold in two places at once: your fragrance-poised inner nose, and your texture- and temperature-sensitive mouth, which is beginning to be fretful about when the luscious … [Read more...]
The Potato Song
If, as has been irrefutably shown, restaurants are theater, then it follows that food is part of the entertainment. Usually, when the marriage of food and arts is trotted out, the dog-eared Western menu automatically opens to glutton Petronius, food-face Arcimboldo, and sundry other library-cafeteria standards. But we 21st-century eaters out there should have our own edible cast -- and not so long ago, the nightly news, sourcing YouTube, provided not just one, but a "Spudding Taternacle Choir" of potatoes, in a video (by John Porter McMeans and … [Read more...]
The Frozen Sound
Do Children Still Hunger for the Past? My brother and I were early TV-babies, and the family's first set, a blond-wood Zenith, had a screen the size and shape of a salad plate. Although he did the usual little-brother things like bite me on the leg when he was mad, Les and I watched everything together, making fun of sitcom characters (like handsome but prim Mr. Boynton in Our Miss Brooks) or singing dirty-word versions of theme songs and jingles. All that seems normal, but we also did something with TV that I really can't explain. When those … [Read more...]
With Friends Like These
Sascha Radetsky of ABT. He'll meet you outside. Tight Deadline There's a peculiar first-person piece in the latest issue of Newsweek, odd as much from an editing point of view as from a writer's or reader's. "Don't Judge Me by My Tights," offered as a "My Turn" column, is a credo by American Ballet Theater soloist Sascha Radetsky that can be summed up in one short swipe: Don't think I'm a sissy because I dance ballet. Those limp, nancy cliches, he writes, have nothing to do with what he really does: On an average day at the job, I handle lithe, … [Read more...]
But Some of My Best Friends …
Someone, 20 years ago, suggested a discreet tattoo the site [sic, or pun] of which would alert the prospective partner to the danger of proceeding as had been planned. But the author of the idea was treated as though he had been schooled in Buchenwald, and the idea was not widely considered, but maybe it is up now for reconsideration. -- from "Killers at Large: AIDS Carriers and Their Victims" by William F. Buckley Jr., National Review Online, Feb. 19, 2005 … [Read more...]
Save the Deli
Many traditional foodways are at risk, and this sharp site focuses on an important one: Save the Deli. Scroll down and check out Alan Richman's 2nd Avenue Deli blog review for GQ: he nails it (which means we agree). … [Read more...]