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A Huck Finn Moment, Recalled

Sunday, December 14, 2014

I first met Pete Seeger at Whiz Bang Quick City II (a four-day experimental architecture event held outside of Phoenicia, NY) in 1972. At the time, I was part of Big Foot Foam, a small team of folks using sprayed urethane foam to build energy-efficient homes. 
Pete was intrigued by the tiny floating foam shelter I had made, on the spot, in which I slept—mid-pond—on that long weekend. He told me that he had an idea for a vessel that could travel up and down the Hudson using no power other than its currents and tides. Sailors would simply go with the flow, while it was moved in their desired direction, and drop anchor when it did not. He said it could be built like a large raft, using discarded oil drums filled with urethane foam.



Top left: My small frog-like home-from-home, migrating to the pond.


Pete was so charmingly free of technological savvy that I didn’t have the heart to tell him about the environmental hazards of the petrochemicals used to make urethane foam, nor that the used oil drums would work perfectly well for his raft—all by themselves.


References to Whiz Bang Quick City II 
A Temporary City Celebrates Cooperation and Creativity. Mother Earth News, July/August 1972.

O’Corozine, Rich. “Off the Map.” Home Hudson Valley, May 14, 2012.

Flashback

Sunday, November 16, 2014

Some forty-five years ago, I—along with some five hundred thousand of my closest friends—attended a remarkable party on a farm in New York’s Sullivan County. Some time later, in reminiscing about that momentous blow-out, I wrote the following account:



By the Time I got to Woodstock
On the first of “four days of peace, love and music,” we packed ourselves into a Dodge Dart and drove from New Paltz to Bethel. OK, somewhere near Bethel—we got to within nine miles of the festival. After an immobile hour or two, my Dart-borne companions were ready to turn back.
Not about to miss this historical event, I climbed out, hoisted a sleeping bag onto my shoulder, and started walking past the endless line of stopped cars. After walking forever in the August heat—when I was perhaps half-way to the festival site—heaven smiled on this weary traveler. It began to rain—no mere sprinkle, but a hippie-soaking downpour.
Imagine the scene: thousands upon thousands of wet, tired, hippies (many with wet tired dogs) along a twenty-mile-long parking lot. Somewhere in the middle of this fragrant jamboree, a tall skinny guy, wearing white bellbottoms, a shiny purple rayon shirt (with puffy sleeves—good lord, what was I thinking?), trudged along, somewhat stooped under the weight of a water-logged sleeping bag.
Did this pony-tailed guy give up? No freakin’ way!
Not then, at least—the next morning was a different story.
I had spent the night cuddling up, beside someone I should never have been with, in that very wet sleeping bag. Did I mention that it was lined with some cheesy yellow-dyed flannel—and that, at the first sign of moisture, it released that yellow dye all over the enclosed hippies? Did I mention that the sleeping bag was, itself, half submerged in the re-hydrated fecal matter of generations of Max Yasgur’s dairy cows?
Enough was enough. I shuffled back down that same highway, and—when I reached some traffic that was moving—hitched a ride to New Paltz.
The white bell-bottoms—stained by god-knows-what-all was living in the mud of peace, love and music—were never white again.  No amount of bleach was to have any effect on them. I had to dye them a nearly fluorescent shade of magenta.
What can I say—It was 1969, and it seemed like a good thing to do at the time.




This week-end, I revisited the site of those events. The times they’ve been a-changing there. The long dirt road from the highway to Max Yasgur’s farm has grown into a paved two-lane road. A fancy museum and performance space now perches atop the hill. Inside, a gift shop overflows with peace, love, and trinkets—both cheap and not-so-cheap.




The museum’s exhibits did a great job of putting the weekend’s events in historical perspective—but that, of course, is one of the things that museums are supposed to do. They attempt to contextualize a collection of images and objects in order to help us imagine what it was like to be among them when they were current.

Unfortunately, museums can never really succeed because the moments they try to describe were filled with countless other things and sensations: things that are uncollectable, sensations that were taken for granted in the moment, but distinguish actual life from dioramas. No doubt, all historical museums are up against similar problems in trying to recreate the je ne sai quoi of temps perdu.

Certainly, the Museum at Bethel Woods showed ample photos and film of healthy young people joyously frolicking in mud… but do museum-goers smell that mud? Do they feel it oozing between their toes? Do they feel the grit of drying mud—in their hair, their ears, their very eyelashes—upon waking, before they even realize where they are? Can it help them to envision being deeply uncomfortable, but simultaneously oblivious to their discomforts because they were trivial compared the bizarre joy of rising amidst half a million equally uncomfortable but ecstatic friends? Do the photos capture the profound funkiness of half a million unwashed and mostly unwashable bodies, bodies that were more closely packed than in any time in human history? Might there have been a moment, onstage, when Ravi Shankar said to himself, “Odd… this smells a bit like the India I tried to leave behind when I came to the West?”

Revisiting that oh-so-clean homage to a moment in our history, with its glass cases filled with sanctified detritus of half-century-old everyday hippie life, and carefully re-created versions of things that were abandoned ages ago, I am reminded that, while we might—occasionally—find a spot where we were once, nothing about the spot will be the same. That the moments we remember, or even imagine we remember, are not what we believe them to have been. Inexplicably, words from a Kenneth Rexroth poem—in which he envisioned an amorous moment shared by Antony and Cleopatra—form in my head:

…taking off
 Their clothes of lace and velvet 
 And gold brocade and climbing
 Naked into bed together
 Lice in their stinking perfumed
 Armpits, the bed full of bugs.
_________________

On the way home, we stopped at a nearby restaurant, where our twenty-something waitress asked us if we had been to the festival. When I answered in the affirmative, she followed with, “Do you remember anything?”

Now I don’t know, for a fact, that her question implied a suspicion of illicit activities at the festival. Perhaps she merely assumed that I was suffering from senile dementia. Either way, it was a damned good question.

Food Sites for December 2014

Friday, November 14, 2014

A wintry feast of apples for wildlife—in one of the many orchards near New Paltz, New York.


With December, residents of the northern hemisphere enter winter. It’s the season for rich desserts and hearty foods, slow-cooked dishes that ooze calories and luscious saturated fats and make us forget there will ever be a time when we might consider wearing something more revealing than a down parka. 

Self-deception can be glorious when served in over-sized portions.

Speaking of over-sized portions, this issue is simply bursting its buttons with tasty new sites for those of us who cogitate (and/or pontificate) about all things gastronomical. Think of it as an extended cocktail hour preparing you for the holiday feasts to come (or a last chance to kick back and relax before the frenzy of festivities consumes us all).

Regular subscribers to our updates newsletter receive these updates from our blog, Just Served, directly—but there is much more at the blog that isn’t delivered automatically. In honor of the dinner party season, last month it served up “Too Hungry for Dinner at Hate.” November also saw Dr Sanscravat’s annual Thanksgiving ravings. This time, however, hiding behind the alias “I Am Curious: Orange,” it showed up in Roll Magazine.

You can, if you wish, follow us on Facebook, and Twitter.  Still more of our online scribbles can be found at A Quiet Little Table in the Corner

As usual, we assume that too much is never enough, so this month’s issue is piling on additional comments appropriate to the gorging season (from On the Table’s culinary quote collection):

Strange to see how a good dinner and feasting reconciles everybody. Samuel Pepys 
FEAST, n. A festival. A religious celebration usually signalized by gluttony and drunkenness, frequently in honor of some holy person distinguished for abstemiousness. Ambrose Bierce 
Contemporary societies have lost the sense of the feast but have kept the obscure drive for it. Umberto Eco
Gary
December, 2014



PS: If you encounter broken links, changed URLs -- or know of wonderful sites weve missed (as has my friend Cynthia Bertelsen) -- please drop us a line.  It helps to keep this resource as useful as possible for all of us. To those of you who have suggested sites -- thanks, and keep them coming!

PPS: If you wish to change the e-mail address at which you receive these newsletters, or otherwise modify the way you receive our postings or -- if youve received this newsletter by mistake, and/or dont wish to receive future issues -- you have our sincere apology and can have your e-mail address deleted from the list immediately. Were happy (and continuously amazed) that so few people have decided to leave the list but, should you choose to be one of them, let us know and well see that your in-box is never afflicted by these updates again. You’ll find links at the bottom of this page to fix everything to your liking.



---- the new sites ----

aashpaz
(“a history of Persian food through the ages”)

Afternoon with M.F.K. Fisher, An
(Paul Levy’s article in The Wall Street Journal)

Amazing Ribs.com
(“the science of barbecue, grilling, and outdoor cooking”)

Apples
(Anna Lovett-Brown on the history and mythology of Malus pumila)

Ben Franklin’s List of 200 Synonyms for “Drunk”: “Moon-Ey’d,” “Hammerish,” “Stew’d” & More (1737) 
(not necessarily more useful than a thesaurus, but definitely more entertaining)

Bread of Affliction, The
(Lindsay Eanet, in McSweeney’s Monthly, on sandwiches)

Community of Lush: Wine, Alcohol, and the Social Bond, The
(Dwight Furrow on what goes on at wine tastings)

Fake-Tongue Illusion, The
(Nicola Twilley on how the perception of foods is altered by our expectations; in the New Yorker)

Food
(blog, recipes, and archive of food programming on PBS – for those outside of the US, that’s our Public Broadcasting Service)

Food and Drink
(food-themed articles selected from Aeon magazine)

Food & Gastronomy: Media and Writing
(eclectic site of Dr. Len Fisher, who studies food, biophysics, and nano-engineering—not necessarily in that order)

Food Stories from Gascony
(southwestern France described by photographer Tim Clinch and writer Kate Hill)

Green Revolution: Curse or Blessing?
(report by Peter B.R. Hazell, posted by the International Food Policy Research Institute)

Happy Apicius
(articles on food and culture from the Bibliothèque Municipale de Dijon; in French)

Image Gallery: Supper Clubs
(Jan Whitaker recalls more restaurants – swanky or not – but mostly perdu)

In Vitro Meat Cookbook, The: Recipes as Design Fiction
(an artistic and philosophical discussion of meat that doesn’t come from animals; a review of a whimsically and graphically lovely book)

Interview with Dwight Furrow, An
(the philosopher talks about his reasons for thinking about food)

Little Food History, A
(Nanna Rögnvaldardóttir on the food of Iceland)

Nietzsche’s Angel Food Cake 
(Rebecca Coffey’s deliciously deicidal recipe, in McSweeney’s)

Pen & Fork
(recipes, cookbook reviews, tips, links)

Shut Up and Eat: A Foodie Repents
(New Yorker article by John Lanchester, author of The Debt to Pleasure)

Symposion Journal
(“...a website devoted to things cultural, aesthetic and intellectual about food”)

Weiser Kitchen, The
(Tami Ganeles-Weiser – anthropologist and chef – creates modern variations on dishes from around the world in her Kosher kitchen)

What’s the Most Ethical Way to Eat Snack Mix?
(Dan Pashman allows several philosophers to weigh in on this... ummm... weighty question)

Why Civilization Rests on that Roast
(Dwight Furrow -- a professor of philosophy who often writes about food and wine, ethics, political philosophy, and aesthetics -- considers the social meanings of food)

Yesterdish: Rescuing America’s Lost Recipes
(a project that salvages old family recipes, often from spattered index cards, and often comparing them with contemporaneous published recipes)


---- inspirational (or otherwise useful) sites for writers/bloggers ----

Amazons Crowdsourced Publishing Venture Kindle Scout Goes Live

Back of the House: Writing this Blog

Editing Checklist For Writers, An

Ethical Author

Leave Me Alone

Looking for Inspiration? Open Your Eyes…and Get to Work 

Merriam-Webster Apps

On All the Ways to Write a Recipe

Passive Resistance

Platforms Are Overrated

SelfControl

Smashwords


---- yet more blogs ----

5 Second Rule

Cooking in the Archives

Coorg Table, The

Culinaria

Culinary Bro-down

Cultured Grub

Eat. Drink. Think.

Elizabeth Minchilli in Rome

Foraging & Feasting

Former Chef

Historical Cooking Project, The

History’s Just Desserts 

Hortus

Hungry Dog, The

In Search of Taste

Kitchen Historic

Life’s a Feast

Lost Past Remembered

Monsoon Spice

Parla Food

Pen & Palate

Plated Stories

Revolutionary Pie

This Cook Book Life

Thyme & Temp


---- thats all for now ----

Except, of course, for the usual legalistic mumbo-jumbo and commercial flim-flam:

Your privacy is important to us. We will not give, sell or share your e-mail address with anyone, for any purpose -- ever. Nonetheless, we will expose you to the following irredeemably brazen plugs: 

Want to support On the Table, without spending a dime of your own money on it? 

It’s easy. Whenever you want to shop on Amazon. Com, click on any of the book links below, then whatever you buy there (it doesn’t even have to be one of our books) will earn a commission for this newsletter.

The Resource Guide for Food Writers 

The Herbalist in the Kitchen 

The Business of Food: Encyclopedia of the Food And Drink Industries 

Human Cuisine 

Herbs: A Global History 

Terms of Vegery 

How to Serve Man: On Cannibalism, Sex, Sacrifice, & the Nature of Eating 

Here endeth the sales pitch(es)...

...for the moment, anyway.

______________

The Resource Guide for Food Writers, Update #170 is protected by copyright, and is provided at no cost, for your personal use only. It may not be copied or retransmitted unless this notice remains affixed. Any other form of republication -- unless with the authors prior written permission -- is strictly prohibited.

Copyright (c) 2014 by Gary Allen.





Too Hungry for Dinner at Hate

Monday, November 10, 2014
Rembrandt Peale's 1805 portrait of Thomas Jefferson

Every year or so, someone has an original idea  the exact same original idea that many other writers have pitched to magazine or newspaper editors. Surprisingly, the idea sells itself (again, and again, and yet again) – it’s nearly as predictable as each year’s crop of “new-and-exciting-ways-to-prepare-that-holiday-turkey” articles. It’s the tried-and-true “what-if-you-could-throw-a-dinner-party-and-invite-anyone-from-history-to-attend” trope.
I don’t know who started this notion, ‘though I suspect it might have been Steve Allen (who was no relation, if that makes any difference to you). He had just the sort of intellectual curiosity and wide-ranging interests to make the concept work. He certainly was the first to invite Thomas Jefferson, who now shows up on almost everyone’s imaginary guest list. This despite the fact that TJ, while brilliant, was not especially sociable or talkative – even after a few glasses of the Bordeaux wine he called “O’brien.”
I don’t think I could ever assemble one of these unlikely groupings of historical celebrities. For one thing, I wouldn’t know what to cook for them. 
How could I reconcile their unknown allergies, dislikes, and politically-incorrect foods with my plans for a menu? How could I face the looks of disgust and disappointment on the faces of long-dead heroes? Think about it – would Socrates be thrilled to be dragged from the Elysian Fields, only to face an overcooked noodle casserole? What if the guests didn’t get along, wouldn’t speak to each other, and just sat there, despondently pushing grayish pieces of limp broccoli around their plates, desperately wishing to return to their graves? 
I don’t even want to think about making up a dream guest list. I could, however, make a list of people I would never want to have at my table.
First, without a doubt, would be Leviticus. 
There may never have been such a person (no doubt Moses just made up the name so it didn’t look like he was padding The Torah with his own stuff), but whoever wrote Leviticus 11:1-47 was one mean-spirited, self-important, know-it-all gastronomic buzz-kill. Just to play safe, I’m not having Moses at my party either. 
It’s bad enough when guests don’t want to eat the food you lovingly prepared for them, but when they get all high-and-mighty, claiming that Yahweh himself told them that everything on your table is unclean, that you and your other guests are unclean, and that it’s an abomination to eat the dishes that make up whole sections of your favorite foods list – that’s just plain rude, don’t you agree? 
Really, Leviticus – no lobster rolls? No billi bi? No scampi, let alone snails, afloat in garlic butter? No rabbit terrine? No frog legs Provençal? 
But locusts are OK? 
Are you kidding me?
I’m willing to go along with him on vultures, owls, and bats – well maybe not the bats (I might try them; they’re sort of like flying dormice, and Ancient Romans loved their dormice). But is he serious about no bacon, ever? Not a smidgen of prosciutto, even when melons are at their most fragrant best?
It’s just too much. The Leviticus invitation is definitely off the table. 
The same goes for any other puritanical proscribers of pleasure – like Sylvester Graham. Some might call this father of veganism a tad over-zealous, but zealotry implies at least some form of passion. He wasn’t a fan of most forms of passion, expressly prohibiting anything that might potentially provoke excitement or lust. Meat, dairy, alcohol, and spices were forbidden. That pretty much eliminates anything I would consider serving at a dinner party. Inconsistently, Reverend Graham also forbade the consumption of white bread, which (to my way of thinking) is an unprovoker of lust if there ever was one.
Sharing a pepperoni-topped pizza “and a nice chianti” with Graham is clearly out-of-the-question. Hell, sharing anything with this guy is out-of-the-question.
No dinner invitation for him.
Then there was John Harvey Kellogg, who founded a masochistic empire based on Graham’s bizarre beliefs. He believed that illness resulted from meat rotting in our intestines. Alcohol, a provoker of lust, was forbidden. Dairy was OK, but taken primarily in the form of an enema. I don’t know about you, but extended talk of enemas is not especially welcome at my dinner table. 
Kellogg did, however, recommend a diet that was rich in nuts. That particular idea, in Kellogg’s case, borders on autocannibalism  and that’s more than enough for me to scratch his name off my list of dinner invitees.
Sister Ellen G. White was another of the nineteenth century’s extreme vegetarians. Unlike Dr. Kellogg, who thought that spoiling our meals for the sake of our physical health was a worthy goal, she wanted more; she wanted to save our very souls by keeping God’s other creatures off of our plates. She also said that we eat too much even of healthy foods (that is, foods of which she approved). OK, she was right about that over-eating business, but it’s harder to swallow her claims that just because our sinful forbears ate meat, God caused The Flood. However, since that same flood wiped out everything else that was edible, Noah’s family had to start eating the Ark’s other passengers. She “explained” the result:
After the flood the people ate largely of animal food. God saw that the ways of man were corrupt, and that he was disposed to exalt himself proudly against his Creator and to follow the inclinations of his own heart. …[God] permitted that long-lived race to eat animal food to shorten their sinful lives. Soon after the Flood the race began to rapidly decrease in size, and in length of years.
Sorry Sister, but the inclinations of my own heart are that my guests and I should be able to eat any damned thing we want. Our sinful lives may be short, but they’ll be happier than long ones filled with your self-righteous sermons. Don’t bother checking your mailbox for dinner invitations from me.
While it is true that my main reason for rejecting potential dinner guests is their rejection of my omnivorous appetites, it’s not the only one. Even in as permissive a dining room as mine, certain standards of etiquette must be observed. 
Horace Fletcher was obsessed with poop. He was constantly telling folks to sniff their excrement, to check for tell-tale signs of digestive failures (by which he meant “bacterial decomposition,” something I prefer to call “digestion”). I don’t want to hear any of this at my dinner table.
Equally bad was his insistence on chewing every bite of food thirty-two times, very quickly (in under twenty seconds) would replace informed and civil discourse with the sounds of machine-gun mastication. Sorry, Fletch  no dinner party should resemble an onslaught of rabid beavers. 
Horace Fletcher will never receive an invitation to dine in my house.
If I ever do host one of these silly imaginary dinners, I plan to begin with this soup from Craig Claiborne. It is rich and seductive enough to provoke lust (at least for dinner). What’s more, it violates just about every rule promulgated by the irritating people I’ve banned from my table. Not only that, it doesn’t have to be chewed – not even once.

Billi Bi
Serves 4
Ingredients
2 lbs. mussels
2 shallots, coarsely chopped
2 small onions, quartered
2 sprigs parsley
salt & freshly ground black pepper
1 pinch cayenne pepper
1 cup dry white wine
2 Tbsp. butter
1/2 bay leaf
1/2 tsp. thyme
2 cups heavy cream
1 egg yolk, lightly beaten
Method
  1. Scrub the mussels well to remove all exterior sand and dirt.
  2. Place them in a large kettle with the shallots, onions, parsley, salt, black pepper, cayenne, wine, butter, bay leaf, and thyme.
  3. Cover and bring to a boil.
  4. Simmer 5-10 minutes, or until the mussels have opened.
  5. Discard any mussels that do not open.
  6. Strain the liquid through a double thickness of cheesecloth.
  7. Reserve the mussels for another use or remove them from the shells and use them as a garnish.
  8. Bring the liquid in the saucepan to a boil and add the cream.
  9. Return to boil and remove from the heat.
  10. Add the beaten egg yolk and return to the heat long enough for the soup to thicken slightly.
  11. DO NOT BOIL.
  12. Serve hot or cold.
  13. This dish may be enriched, if desired, by stirring two tablespoons of hollandaise sauce into the soup before it is served.

Source: Claiborne, Craig. The New York Times Cookbook. New York: Harper & Row, 1961.

food sites for November 2014

Monday, October 13, 2014

A bushel of winter squash at a farm stand, Palenville, New York


November is the start of our annual marathon of holiday over-eating or, as we like to call it, “La Grande Bouffe.” With any luck -- sometime in early January -- we’ll shove back from the groaning table (and even more groaning chair) in better condition than the leading characters of that French–Italian exercise in excess.

However, we’ve learned, from long -- and often humiliating -- experience, not to make any rash promises.

Regular subscribers to our updates newsletter receive these updates from our blog, Just Served,  directly -- but there is much more at the blog that isn’t delivered automatically. Also, our stuff frequently appears in Roll Magazine, and last month’s article was on Beechnuts -- which, against all expectations, does not once mention chewing gum.

You can also, should you desire to, follow us on Facebook, and Twitter -- and even a cursory glance at A Quiet Little Table in the Corner will reveal links to entirely too much of our online logorrhea. 

Pre-empting the gorging season, On the Table’s culinary quote collection waxes fat about fat:

American consumers have no problem with carcinogens, but they will not purchase any product, including floor wax, that has fat in it. Dave Barry 
I have a great diet. Youre allowed to eat anything you want, but you must eat it with naked fat people. Ed Bluestone 
America is now the fattest country in the world and getting fatter every day. unnamed H.J. Heinz Co. executive 
Its OK to be fat. So youre fat. Just be fat and shut up about it. Roseanne Arnold
Gary
November, 2014


PS: If you encounter broken links, changed URLs -- or know of wonderful sites weve missed (as does Elatia Harris, who is always finding great sites) -- please drop us a line. It helps to keep this resource as useful as possible for all of us. To those of you who have suggested sites -- thanks, and keep them coming!

PPS: If you wish to change the e-mail address at which you receive these newsletters, or otherwise modify the way you receive our postings or -- if youve received this newsletter by mistake, and/or dont wish to receive future issues -- you have our sincere apology and can have your e-mail address deleted from the list immediately. Were happy (and continuously amazed) that so few people have decided to leave the list but, should you choose to be one of them, let us know and well see that your in-box is never afflicted by these updates again. There are links at the bottom of this page to fix everything to your liking.



---- the new sites ----

Austerity Kitchen, The
(Christine Baumgarthubers food history columns; archive of older postings here)

Chef Stories
(a collection of six profiles -- Grant Achatz, Mario Batali, Anthony Bourdain, David Chang, Julia Child, and Alice Waters -- in The New Yorker)

Cooking
(thousands of recipes from The New York Times)

Early Chinese Food History
(Jacqueline M. Newman’s article in Flavor & Fortune)

Food Snobbery Explained
(some embarrassing self-revelation from Snobsite.com)

Frugal Housewife, The: Or Complete Woman Cook
(scanned facsimile pages, and PDF version, of Susannah Carter’s 1803 book)

fruitsinfo.com
(tropical, exotic, accessory, and hybrid fruits; plus fruit news and recipes)

Gareth Jones Food
(website of a self-described gastronome – and food consultant, cook, traveler and educator)

GMOs are Old Hat. Synthetically Modified Food is the New Frontier
(Eliza Barclay reports of new technologies that produce artificial foodstuffs by fermentation, rather than by less appealing, or environmentally-less desirable, methods – such as from petrochemicals)

Gourmet
(selections from the magazine’s archives: 1940s-1970s & 2000s)

Great Hog-Eating Confederacy, The
(Christine Baumgarthuber on the place of pork and corn in the historical diet of America’s southerners)

History on the Half-Shell: The Story of New York City and its Oysters
(article by the New York Public Library’s Carmen Nigro)

Honey, Food is All About Power
(dialogue, between Bani Amor and Thy Tran, on false assumptions about “ethnic” food writers, the imagined audience for their writing, and the ways food writing is used to reinforce stereotypes about race and ethnicity for profit)

How to Prepare a Sauce for the Lords and How Long it Lasts
(recreating a sour twelfth-century recipe that features sweet spices)

In Search of Taste
(quarterly magazine “…dedicated to examining gastronomic cultural traditions [of] the symbiotic affinity between simple food and wine…”)

Information is Beautiful
(infographic on compatibility of flavors)

Joanne Chang Brings the Sweet Science of Sugar to Harvard
(Eater National account of her lecture/demonstration)

Mad Feed
(food for thought via articles and TED-like video presentations)

Magical Tour of Yotam Ottolenghis Cookbook Collection, A
(an interview with the author of Plenty)

Morsel
(another aggregator of food articles)

Museum of Food and Drink, The (MOFAD) 
(New York City’s future museum, “… about the culture, history, science, production, and commerce of food and drink,” where one will be able to smell and taste the exhibits)

Myth of Togetherness Around the Table, The
(apparently -- in England at least -- it didn’t exist before middle-class Edwardians decided it should)

See It, Want It: Window Food Displays
(Jan Whitaker, on restaurants’ use of their windows to attract customers)

Seven Moles of Oaxaca, The
(from Mexican chef par excellence, Zarela Martinez)

Tea if by Sea
(Dan Jurafsky’s history of tea, with an emphasis on linguistics)

Wine Snobbery Explained
(“Wine snob. Isn’t that a redundancy…?” more embarrassing details from Snobsite.com)

Zythum: An Egyptian Precursor to Beer
(food safety microbiologist Peter Olsen blogs about an ancient brew)


---- inspirational (or otherwise useful) sites for writers/bloggers ----

Book academy

Getting Started with Social Media

So You Want to Be a Food Writer

Writer, The


---- yet more blogs ----

Botanist in the Kitchen, The

Draughts Are Deep, The

Edible Arts

Edible Legacies

Fork Tales

Language of Food, The

Morsel

Odd Pantry, The

Plate, The

Ruth Reichl

Shepherd and the Olive Tree, The

Taste of History with Joyce White, A



---- thats all for now ----

Except, of course, for the usual legalistic mumbo-jumbo and commercial flim-flam:

Your privacy is important to us. We will not give, sell or share your e-mail address with anyone, for any purpose -- ever. Nonetheless, we will expose you to the following irredeemably brazen plugs: 

Want to support On the Table, without spending a dime of your own money on it? 

It’s easy. Whenever you want to shop on Amazon. Com, click on any of the book links below, then whatever you buy there (it doesn’t even have to be one of our books) will earn a commission for this newsletter.

The Resource Guide for Food Writers 
(Paper), (Kindle

The Herbalist in the Kitchen 

The Business of Food: Encyclopedia of the Food And Drink Industries 

Human Cuisine 

Herbs: A Global History 

Terms of Vegery 

How to Serve Man: On Cannibalism, Sex, Sacrifice, & the Nature of Eating 

Here endeth the sales pitch(es)...

...for the moment, anyway.

______________

The Resource Guide for Food Writers, Update #169 is protected by copyright, and is provided at no cost, for your personal use only. It may not be copied or retransmitted unless this notice remains affixed. Any other form of republication -- unless with the author'‘s prior written permission -- is strictly prohibited.

Copyright, 2014 by Gary Allen.





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