New York City Mayor Michael Bloomberg has announced that government mustn’t interfere with free enterprise, when it comes to the gay-marriage-bashing Chick-fil-A. This is supposed to mark out a political difference between Bloomberg and other big-city mayors, but it’s a straightforward effect of the dearth of Chick-fil-As in NYC. Any sane mayor would make a deal with the devil to get those tender breaded fillets (and that sweet, sweet special sauce!) into their city.
I’ve been reading about the famous Miracle of the Herrings. At Naples in 1319, witnesses to the life of Thomas Aquinas gave testimony, and two of them recount a curious story concerning some herrings. Nicholas, Abbot of Fossanova, recalled that
when Thomas lay sick in the castle of Maenza and was urged to eat something, he answered, ‘I would eat fresh herrings, if I had some.’ Now it happened that a pedlar called just then with salted fish. He was asked to open his baskets, and one was found full of fresh herrings … But when the herrings were brought to Thomas, he would not eat them.
Fantastic dinner tonight. Roasted “exquisa” potatoes whole, coated with olive oil, salt, pepper, paprika, and a pinch of crushed red chile. These were perfect: spicy and smooth and rich. Served with a tin of baked beans. Then a salad: romaine, sweet red pepper, goat cheese, with a dressing of 2 parts honey and 1 part wholegrain mustard. Outstanding (nothing like honey and goat cheese).
It’s easy to forgot the appeal of a few days of pleasant food. A few weeks ago I ate dinner with colleagues at Café St. Honore: a soft and sweet beef carpaccio with potato salad and watercress, a main dish of lamb shoulder over beets, swimming in a sweet rich sauce, with mashed potatoes and a kind of fried roulade-disc of pork belly, and for dessert, crème brûlée, a dish threatened with extinction as a result of its obviousness and familiarity: compare tiramisu, pork chops, gin and tonic, the liberal arts, marriage, Western civilization. In other words: it’s easy to forget the appeal. Read the rest of this entry »
Busy as hell recently. Working on a book manuscript. Eating relatively well: green beans, chilies, onions, and cashews tonight; roasted potatoes and pork loin chops with apples cooked in butter, sugar, and Scotch whisky last night. Read the rest of this entry »
I arrived in Albuquerque on Monday night and have been rewarded immensely in the form of actually spicy food. Tuesday morning, a bit jetlagged, I had a breakfast burrito, filled with eggs, hashbrowns, cheese, green chili salsa, and carne avodado, at the Frontier restaurant, across from the University. There was more spice in this single burrito than exists on the island of Great Britain, especially after I smothered it with an additional ladle-full of salsa. Read the rest of this entry »
We should imagine that language, both refined and vulgar, was invented to describe our food. Our poets therefore should be both cooks and gourmands; we should in any event experiment with treating them as such. To this end, a few months ago I made efforts to recreate the object of Joel Barlow’s heroic “The Hasty Pudding” (1793), with the help of an expert from Utah State University. Read the rest of this entry »
Tonight I briefly fried a fillet of trout in butter, lemon juice, and capers, and served it with buttered corn and a pile of new potatoes that had been roasted with thyme and lemon. Read the rest of this entry »
I sautéed mirepoix along with some garlic and black pepper, then added green lentils and vegetable broth, and cooked this for about 20 minutes. To this I added the cooked pasta, and a handful of grated parmesan.
There are some falafel problems around the Dugald Stewart Building, where I work. Read the rest of this entry »
Professor 