On the Table - the curious home of Gary Allen, Food Writer & Dillettante

"It's May, it's May," and (if Alan Jay Lerner and Frederick Loewe are to be believed) it's that wonderful time when "when ev'ryone goes blissfully astray." We suspect they had other distractions in mind, but we'll take our rapture from early spring greens, morels, fresh trout, tiny radishes and sweet early peas.

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 sent automatically. We understand that many (OK, most) folks have better things to do with their time than wade through countless unwanted e-missives, so we won't add ours to that pile. However... should you feel an inexplicable craving for exactly the sort of self-indulgent claptrap we periodically post, you can satisfy that urge at Just Served. Last month we posted "Creamsicles, Re-Imagined," our speculations about the intersection of nostalgia and jaded palates. There were a few other posts -- but since they were not about food we won't list them here. However, should you require a dose of non-culinary foolishness, check out the Archive for April.

Leitesculinaria is still in the process of reposting, sometimes -- with shiny new updates and edits -- some of our older articles. The entire list of our currently-posted LeitesCulinaria articles is available here, along with several other articles on food history & science.

For hard-core addicts of our stuff (assuming such unlikely beings exist), Marty Martindale's Food Site of the Day has been completely redesigned, and has returned to posting A Quiet Little Table in the Corner -- an index of our writings on the web.

Here's a selection soon to be added to On the Table's culinary quote pages.

Cookbooks are the history of an epoch. They show how people prepared and ate the ingredients available to them. Cookbooks provide answers to social, political, and economic questions about the society for which they were written. They are an essential ingredient to preserving our past and enhancing our future. Julia Child

PS: If you encounter broken links, changed URLs -- or know of wonderful sites we've missed -- 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, go here.

PPPS: If you've received this newsletter by mistake, and/or don't wish to receive future issues, you have our sincere apology and can have your e-mail address deleted from the list immediately. We're 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 we'll see that your in-box is never afflicted by these updates again. You can unsubscribe here.



About That Recipe
("Or, Revelation from Stuffed Waterfowl That Require Onions," Trudy Eden's article in Common-place: American Food in the Age of Experiment)

How Food Explains the World
("From China's strategic pork reserve to a future where insects are the new white meat, 10 reasons we really are what we eat;" Joshua Keating's article in Foreign Policy)

Mediterranean Creole
(a chef's site about Algerian cookery)

Old School
("Glenn Roberts Restores Carolina Grains," article in Common-place: American Food in the Age of Experiment)

On Figs
("Sweetness in the Common Landscape," Bernard L. Herman's article in Common-place: American Food in the Age of Experiment)

Pigeons
("Pigeons and their Cuisine," Caroline F. Sloat 's article in Common-place: American Food in the Age of Experiment)

Recipe for a Culinary Archive
("An Illustrated Essay," Jan Longone's article in Common-place: American Food in the Age of Experiment)

Roots of Taste, The
(David Shields 's article on root vegetables in Common-place: American Food in the Age of Experiment)

Unbearable Taste, The
(slavery and "Early African American Foodways," Michael W. Twitty's article in Common-place: American Food in the Age of Experiment)

What‭'‬s Cooking, Uncle Sam?
("The Government's Effect on the American Diet," brochure for the exhibit at U.S. National Archives; in PDF format)



Blog posts about blogging -- and writing, design, photography, promotion, and ethics -- can help us become better, and possibly more successful, writers (i.e., having more people read our stuff). Here're some recent favorites:

20 Terms For Selling (I Mean Writing) Recipes

Serious Eats Guide to Food Photography, The

Unspeakable Bodily Fluids and Genitalia: A Short, Revolting Intro to the Finest Metaphors in British Food Criticism



Glutton for Life

Rooter to the Tooter, The

Starving off the Land



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:

Our books, The Resource Guide for Food Writers, The Herbalist in the Kitchen, The Business of Food: Encyclopedia of the Food And Drink Industries, and Human Cuisine can be ordered through the Libro-Emporium.

Here endeth the sales pitch(es)...

...for the moment, anyway.

In the centuries before Europeans arrived in the New World, the trout were practically unmolested. Untroubled by hoards of weekend flyfishers (armed with the latest in weaponry by the great white father they called "Orvis"), the trout grew to immense size. Minnows and insects were insufficient fare for such leviathans -- they craved red meat. Oh, occasionally they would grab a wolf or cougar (you will note, I'm sure, the fact that these predator species are beginning to make a comeback after yuppie fascination with fly-fishing reduced the trout populations to ineffectual levels), but for sheer bulk, venison was the only way to go.

Those of us on the East Coast can assure you that the reduction in trout size and numbers have resulted in a rapid expansion of the deer herds in our area, which (in turn) has led to terrible over-browsing of our woodlands and gardens. Shrubs and perennials now exist only in the glossy plant catalogs, artfully naturalized on our coffee-tables. There are practically no woods with normal undergrowth anymore. If you were younger, you could kneel down and see for miles beneath the trees -- everything that deer could reach has been eaten.

Fortunately, baby boomers' attention is short -- and they have, for the most part, abandoned the streams -- first for mountain bikes; then, as their aging limbs gave out, for four-wheel drive vehicles. I think, if we can manage to keep their sport utility vehicles out of the trout streams, there is a small chance that the normal balance of nature will reassert itself. The deer-eating trout may rise again from the primordial depths to gorge themselves on flesh -- perhaps even the flesh of yuppies.

My wife and I have recently been absorbed in genealogical research. This sort of thing is fascinating, if fairly boring for those outside the immediate family. Undue obsession with genealogical pursuits is also a little embarrassing. There's something almost un-American about it -- since we are not supposed to be concerned with such things as lineage.

Americans are self-made individuals.

We pull ourselves up by our own bootstraps.

We look down our democratic noses at "blue bloods" who inherited their wealth and power, rather than earning them on their own.

And yet, we are easily puffed-up by discovering that we are descended from Cleopatra, Genghis Khan, or -- in my case -- William the Conqueror. It makes no difference that sheer arithmatic guarantees vast numbers of descendants from any famous person who happened to have children, sometime in the distant past.

What really tickled me, however, was discovering that my 15th great grandfather was Sir William Gascoigne (1350 - 1419).


He was Chief Justice of England under King Henry IV. I found this discovery pleasing... even if my stepson pointed out that it meant I had some lawyer blood in my lineage. What tickled me was that I have an ancestor who was a character in one of Shakespeare's histories (Henry IV, Part 2). It seems Sir William was something of stick-in-the-mud -- but an honorable one -- and he strongly disapproved of one of my all-time favorite fictional characters: Sir John Falstaff. Being in charge of the King's bench, I suppose he had to suspect the bona fides of anyone as disreputable as Sir John. No doubt, the excesses of that rotund rascal were the very qualities that led Shakespeare to include him in more plays than any other character. It pleases me to know that my ancestor might have spent time with someone like Falstaff, even if it pained him to do so.

Because, 395 years ago today, Shakespeare shuffled off his mortal coil.

For simple perfection, few ready-made frozen desserts match the lowly Creamsicle. We recall magical childhood memories of crisp and citrusy-tart exteriors, that gradually surrendered their creamy vanilla hearts.

Why would I be so crass as to attempt to replace that Proustian delight with some kind of substitute? Because, as Paul Simon sang about today's Creamsicles (OK, he was referring to something else entirely) "you know they'd never match my sweet little imagination." Sad to say, we can't go home again.

How pretentious is that? Allusions to Proust, Paul Simon and Thomas Wolfe in one short paragraph about ice cream on a stick.

Anyway -- whether they just don't make Creamsicles the way they used to, or our tastes have evolved to the point where mundane reality can't keep up with our remembered expectations -- here are two approaches to recreating the remembered experience, if not the actuality of the thing itself.

These are almost as easy as ripping the paper off a Creamsicle.



Serves 1-4 (depending on ambient temperature and degree of self-control)

Ingredients

1 pint Coconut ice cream, slightly softened
1 pint Mango ice cream, slightly softened

Method

1. Divide Coconut ice cream between four bowls, packing ice cream into an even layer. Place bowls in freezer to firm the ice cream.

2. Divide Mango ice cream between the four prepared bowls, packing mango ice cream in an even layer on top of the coconut ice cream. Place bowls in freezer to firm the ice cream.

3. Garnish with a slice of orange and a mint leaf if you want to show off, or simply dig in.

Serves 1-4 (same as above)

Ingredients

1 pint premium vanilla ice cream
1 bottle Sparkling Blood Orange soda*
canned real whipped cream

Method

1. Place one four-ounce scoop of ice cream in each of four tall glasses.

2. Carefully pour soda to within an inch of the top. This is going to produce a lot of foam, so have a spoon handy to remove excess.

3. Top with whipped cream. You could use home-made whipped cream, but unless you pipe it on with a star-tipped pastry bag, you won't get that soda-fountain look -- and, besides, this is supposed to be EASY. We're aiming for instant transport to the joy of our childhoods, not a fussy display of our kitchen skills.

* I use Taste of Inspirations brand, available in Hannaford and Food Lion grocery stores. You could use other orange sodas, but they wouldn't produce the delicate coloration and subtle tang that blood oranges contribute.

Roquefort cheese has been made in the caves of Combalou, Roquefort-sur-Soulzon, at least since Gaul was occupied by the Romans -- Pliny the Elder spoke highly of it, and he was not the sort who normally gushed gourmet superlatives. By1411, Les Causses had been granted the exclusive right to the name "Roquefort," and all other blue-veined cheeses had to make their own reputations. Salads, of course, go back much further -- they were known to the ancient Greeks, but didn't have an entire book devoted to them until 1699, when Robert Evelyn published his Acetaria: A Discourse on Sallets.

When salad and Roquefort cheese first got together is somewhat more mysterious. Usually, recipes just "happen," they evolve, often in several places at the same time in response to new tastes, the availability of new ingredients, etc. Only rarely can we provide, with any certainty, the "who, what, where, when and how" of a recipe's creation.

We can look for clues to "who, what, where, when and how" it might have been invented though. We know that Roquefort Dressing did not first appear in France -- the French preferred simple vinaigrettes on their salads, and thought too highly of the great cheese to reduce it to the status of a mere ingredient in something else.

We also know that Roquefort cheese was fairly known in the US, at least as early as the 1850s. Thomas Jefferson would surely have known about it over fifty years earlier, and he was very fond of salads -- but they tended to be dressed with egg-yolk-thickened dressings. (Hatch, 2002 and Hess, 1977)

Homans Isaac Smith wrote, in 1859:

In France the Roquefort cheese is the most esteemed, and next that of Neufchatel. The former somewhat resembles Stilton, but is much inferior; and the latter is a cream cheese, seldom exceeding a quarter of a pound. (Smith, p. 294)

Elliot G. Storke, also writing in 1859, agreed with Smith:

In France, the Roquefort cheese is compared to our Stilton, but is much inferior, although a good cheese. The little cheeses made from cream and folded in paper, called Neufchatel cheeses, are imported from France as a delicacy. (Storke, p. 151)

Apparently, Mr. Smith's and Mr. Storke's tastes were still primarily British, long after the rest of the country was independent of England. One traveler, writing in Appletons' Journal: A Magazine of General Literature, in 1875, had a somewhat different opinion of the cheese.

If America ever produced cheese equal to that delicious green-streaked cream, which is known as the Roquefort, its manufacture may surely be ranked among the forgotten arts. (L., E. H., p.p. 778-781)

Wirt Sikes, traveling to Brussels, complained about his accommodations in a hotel there:

There was no gas, and the dim light of the solitary candles did not produce a cheerful effect. There was no fireplace in either room, and we could not get warm. Weary and worn, chilled and hungry, we dejectedly ordered a cold chicken and a bit of Roquefort cheese to be served in my room, for the dining-room was closed and the kitchen-fires were out, although it was not yet midnight. The chicken came, but no Roquefort; they had only Stilton and Cheshire, the waiter said, in English. In fact, we had chanced upon the particular hotel in Brussels where they give you the English language in lieu of comfort, and English dishes in lieu of good living. (Sikes, pp. 14-19)

By the 1870s American palates had clearly become more sophisticated. Salads with

"French dressings" (vinaigrettes with various additions) became fashionable in America in the 1880s, but in the cookbook assembled by the Board of Lady Managers of the World's Columbian Exposition, no mention of Roquefort Dressing appeared. (Shuman, 1893)

Fannie Farmer’s original 1896 Boston Cooking-School Cook Book used "French dressing" in the vinaigrette sense, and included some 13 recipes for salad dressings, but none of them resembles Roquefort Dressing. Several had creamy textures, but they were cooked and contained cream and/or egg yolks. This is hardly surprising, as she doesn’t even list Roquefort among the cheeses she included in her book. Curiously, she does mention three mold-veined cheeses: Cheshire, Gorgonzola and Stilton. (Farmer, 1896, pp. 13, 288-292)

In 1915, Hellman's mayonnaise first appeared in jars -- and salad dressings began to multiply; Ranch, Green Goddess and a new sweet-sour orange concoction called "French Dressing" (that had nothing whatsoever in common with the traditional vinaigrettes) soon appeared on grocer’s shelves. (Anderson, p. 296)

By the 1920s, green salads became popular -- first in California, and then across the country (especially in the new tea rooms that catered to a female clientele). According to Jan Whitaker,

Salads, called "the thinking woman's luncheon, and the university girl's dessert," were also popular attractions in tea rooms.

Finally, in the salad dressing recipes in 1928s Edgewater Beach Hotel Salad Book, we find:

...classified under the headings of French Dressings, Mayonnaises, Boiled Dressings, Sour Cream Dressings, Vinegars, and Miscellaneous Dressings… the final section [was] devoted to… the four universally used dressings, French, Mayonnaise, Roquefort, and Thousand Island. (Shircliffe, p. 242)

Somewhere -- before 1928 -- Roquefort Salad Dressing "just happened" and became popular enough that is became standard almost immediately. What were its immediate precursors; what sorts of things were people eating that might have planted the idea of the dressing in the public mind? One recipe, by Rufus Estes -- chef for two presidents (Grover Cleveland and Benjamin Harrison), and the first African-American to write and publish a cookbook, in 1911 -- is suggestive:

Trianon Salad

Cut one grapefruit and two oranges in sections and free from seeds and membrane. Skin and seed one cup white grapes and one-third cup pecan nut meats in small pieces. Mix ingredients, arrange on a bed of romaine and pour over the following dressing: Mix four tablespoons olive oil, one tablespoon grape juice, one tablespoon grape vinegar, one-fourth teaspoon paprika, one-eighth teaspoon pepper and one tablespoon fine chopped Roquefort cheese. This dressing should stand in the ice-box four or five hours to become seasoned. (Estes, p. 33)

Fannie Farmer, in 1918, wrote a recipe that was a little more like what we think of when we hear the term "Roquefort Dressing:"

Tomato and Cheese Salad

Peel six medium-sized tomatoes, chill, and scoop out a small quantity of pulp from the centre of each. Fill cavities, using equal parts of Roquefort and Neufchatel cheese worked together and moistened with French Dressing. Arrange on lettuce leaves and serve with French Dressing. (Farmer, 1918, p. 61)

By 1947, The Boston Cooking-School Cook Book had two versions of a dressing we would immediately recognize. Both were based on "French Dressing" (a basic vinaigrette) with crumbled Roquefort added; one also contained mayonnaise:

Roquefort French Dressing

Add 1 to 4 Tablespoons dry Roquefort cheese crumbs and a few drops of onion juice. (Farmer, 1947, p. 477)

and:

Roquefort Cheese Dressing

2 Tablespoons mayonnaise
French Dressing
2 Tablespoons Roquefort Cheese
1/2 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
Mix mayonnaise and cheese and add French dressing very slowly; then add Worcestershire sauce. Cream cheese or Roquefort-flavored cream cheese may be use in place of Roquefort. (Farmer, 1947, p. 481)

The first Fannie Farmer recipe is almost identical to the one in Irma Rombauer's Joy of Cooking (first published 1931), which means the dressing had become a standard by that time.

Roquefort or Blue Cheese French Dressing

Prepare: 1/2 Cup French Dressing
Beat into it 2 Tablespoons or more crumbled Roquefort or blue cheese.

We do know the particulars on some Roquefort recipes, however. Cobb salad (which contained Roquefort -- but crumbled on top of the vinaigrette, not blended in -- rather like Este's Trianon Salad) was invented at the Original Hollywood Brown Derby, in 1937 by owner Bob Cobb. The best-known dish making use of Roquefort Dressing is Buffalo Chicken Wings, invented by Frank and Teressa Bellisimo, at the Anchor Bar, 1047 Main Street, Buffalo, New York. The hot-sauce-drenched wings, accompanied by celery sticks and Roquefort Dressing, were first served in 1964.

And yes -- even the details of the history of recent inventions, like Buffalo Chicken Wings, are hotly argued (there wouldn't be a need for food historians if all the answers were easy) -- but you can sort through the accounts for yourself at On the Wings of a Buffalo or "Mother Teressa's Wings."


Anderson, Jean. American Century Cook Book: The Most Popular Recipes of the 20th Century. New York: Clarkson Potter, 1997.

Carr, Sandy. The Simon & Schuster Pocket Guide to Cheese: A Complete Guide to the Cheeses of the World. New York: Simon & Schuster, 1992.

Estes, Rufus. Good Things to Eat. Chicago: Rufus Estes, 1911.

Farmer, Fannie Merritt. The Boston Cooking-School Cook Book. Boston: n.p., 1896 (facsimile of the 1st ed.; New York: Weathervane Books/Crown, 1973).

The Boston Cooking-School Cook Book. 1918.

The Boston Cooking-School Cook Book. (eighth ed.; edited & updated by Wilma Lord Perkins), Boston: Little, Brown & Co., 1947.

Hatch, Peter J. "Thomas Jefferson's Favorite Vegetables," Twinleaf Journal, Thomas Jefferson Foundation, Inc., 2002.

Hess, John L. and Karen Hess. The Taste of America. New York: Viking/Grossman, 1977.

L., E. H., "America seen with Foreign Eyes, Chapter VI," Appletons' Journal: A Magazine of General Literature, Volume 13, Issue 326, June 19, 1875, pp.778-781.

Making of America (MOA) is a digital library of primary sources in American social history primarily from the antebellum period through reconstruction. Many of the books cited here were accessed at MOA.

Shircliffe, Arnold. Edgewater Beach Hotel Salad Book. Evanston, IL: Hotel Monthly Press, 1928.

Shuman, Carrie V. Favorite Dishes: A Columbian Autograph Souvenir Cookery Book. Chicago, 1893.

Sikes, Wirt. "Six Hotels," Appletons' Journal: A Magazine of General Literature, Volume 1, Issue 1, July 1876, pp.14-19.

Smith, Homans, I.. A Cyclopedia of Commerce and Commercial Navigation. 1859.

Storke, Elliot G. (ed.). Domestic and Rural Affairs. The Family, Farm and Gardens, and the Domestic Animals. ... From the Latest and Best Authorities. 1859.

Whitaker, Jan. Tea at the Blue Lantern Inn: A Social History of the Tea Room Craze in America. New York: St. Martin’s Press, 2002.


This article was originally written under the auspices of Leitesculinaria.com. It first appeared, with their permission, in Food History News, Sandy Oliver's delightful and much-missed newsletter.

Yesterday, I finished editing a book I've been writing for over a decade. The Book's working title is How to Serve Man: On Cannibalism, Sex, Sacrifice, and the Nature of Eating.

Really.

It's about the irrational notions we have about all of those subjects, how they're interconnected, and how they got to be that way. People-eating provides the hook upon which all these speculations depend.

As someone else has said, "it's been a long strange trip."

Most of the time was spent in researching and writing, and every minute was a pleasure -- not a bit like work. However, the editing was a different story.

By "editing" I mean cutting about 30% of the text, deleting duplications and irrelevant (but tasty) digressions along the way... then going back to rewrite thousands of passages to ensure that the thing still made sense.

The classic advice to anyone about to begin such an endeavor is "kill the stuff you love."
Take no prisoners.
Be ruthless.
Sophie's Choice was probably Styron's way of complaining about the editing process.

And they wonder why so many writers drink.

Among the deleted "tasty digressions" and "stuff that I love" was an appendix featuring a listing of cinematic cannibals (actually a chronological listing of films that incorporate cannibal themes). While assembling the list, I was amazed at how many there were, and in how many ways the subject could be handled.

I was sorry to see it go -- but just because it won't be in the book, doesn't mean it's gone forever. If you're interested in such things, the list is here, for your perusal.

It's April, one of the busiest months of our year, at least that's an excuse to which we're sticking for the lateness of this issue. If that one seems unconvincing, we'll come up with several others... when we find some free time. Let's just say that editing one book, assembling the graphics for another, and collecting reference materials for a third have pretty much used our waking hours.

Apparently, we must learn to either work in our sleep or learn to do without sleep altogether

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 sent automatically. We understand that many (OK, most) folks have better things to do with their time than wade through countless unwanted e-missives, so we won't add ours to that pile. However... should you feel an inexplicable craving for exactly the sort of self-indulgent claptrap we periodically post, you can satisfy that urge at Just Served. Last month we posted but one article, Something from an Old Journal, and even that was recycled from a time before blogs, and even the World Wide Web were even imagined.

Leitesculinaria is still in the process of reposting, sometimes -- with shiny new updates and edits -- some of our older articles. The entire list of our currently-posted LeitesCulinaria articles is available here, along with several other articles on food history & science.

For hard-core addicts of our stuff (assuming such unlikely beings exist), Marty Martindale's Food Site of the Day has been completely redesigned, and has returned to posting A Quiet Little Table in the Corner -- an index of our writings on the web.

Here's a selection soon to be added to On the Table's culinary quote pages. Now that we've all gotten April Fools pranks out of our systems...

"Try a chilli with it, Miss Sharp", said Joseph, really interested. "A chilli," said Rebecca, gasping, "Oh, yes!" She thought a chilli was something cool, as its name imported, and was served with some. "How fresh and green they look," she said, and put one into her mouth. It was hotter than the curry; flesh and blood could bear it no longer. She laid down her fork. "Water, for Heaven's sake, water!" she cried. William Makepeace Thackeray

and that baseball season has finally started...

Sure I eat what I advertise. Sure I eat Wheaties for breakfast. A good bowl of Wheaties with bourbon can't be beat. Dizzy Dean

PS: If you encounter broken links, changed URLs -- or know of wonderful sites we've missed -- 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, go here.

PPPS: If you've received this newsletter by mistake, and/or don't wish to receive future issues, you have our sincere apology and can have your e-mail address deleted from the list immediately. We're 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 we'll see that your in-box is never afflicted by these updates again. You can unsubscribe here.


Africooks.com
(site of culinary historian Jessica B. Harris)

America's Largest Cookbook Collection
(New York University's Fales Library Food Studies Collection -- some 55,000 volumes)

Big Fat Debate, A
(Kristin Wartman's Huffington Post article on why fat is not the problem)

Cider Museum Hereford, The
(British museum dedicated to "... to preserv[ing] the history of cider making worldwide")

Fire and Knives
(a food-writing quarterly)

Food, Glorious Food: Baking Blogs and Food Memoirs
(Joanne Conte's article from the NY Public Library's blog)

History, Art and Biography
(the USDA's National Agricultural Library shows some its collections, including: war-era food posters; "digital reproductions of original artwork, nursery and seed trade catalogs, manuscript collections, and portions of rare books from across the agricultural specialties;" "agricultural texts published between the early nineteenth century and the middle to late twentieth century;" "farm weekly newspapers published in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries;" an "historical timeline of American agriculture;" and more)

How 8 Famous Cheeses Got Their Names
(a cheesy little history lesson)

Nutrition and Food Sciences
(free online access to 31 journals)

Pine Nuts (Pignolia): Species, Products, Markets, and Potential for U.S. Production
(paper by University of Missouri's Leonid Sharashkin and Michael Gold; in PDF format)

Rambling Epicure, The
(a daily online international food newspaper)

Remedy Quarterly
("…an independently published magazine of food stories with recipes at the heart")

Taking Root: Cassava Claims its Place on the American Table
(Dorothy Irwin's article in Saveur)

USDA Economics, Statistics and Market Information System (ESMIS)
(Cornell University and USDA provide detailed info on over 2,500 American and international agricultural subjects, as well as related topics)

Vertical Farming: Does it Really Stack Up?
(The Economist looks at "growing crops in vertical farms in the heart of cities")



Blog posts about blogging -- and writing, design, photography, promotion, and ethics -- can help us become better, and possibly more successful, writers (i.e., having more people read our stuff). Here are a few recent favorites:

Food Photography Lighting Tips

Fritinancy

Knock, Knock….Who is at Your Door?

Learn Food Photography

New Google Recipe Search Means Extra Coding for Food Bloggers



Marché Dimanche

Musing Bouche, The

Simple Italy

Sweet Paul



Except, of course, for the usual legal 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:

Our books, The Resource Guide for Food Writers, The Herbalist in the Kitchen, The Business of Food: Encyclopedia of the Food And Drink Industries, and Human Cuisine can be ordered through the Libro-Emporium.

Here endeth the sales pitch(es)...

...for the moment, anyway.