I took the kid to Italy for his thirteenth birthday; we just got back a few days ago. I realized when we arrived in Rome that it had been fifteen years since I was last there, an inconceivably long time given the crucial part Italy played in forming who I became artistically and culinarily. The visual influences became apparent immediately in my paintings, and that continued until I left figuration behind entirely a few years later. The culinary influence proved to be even more durable, and increased in importance as I began growing and cooking food all the time when we left Brooklyn for the country. Now that I write about food for a living, the Italian approach to ingredients—the simplicity, the honesty, the glorification of peasant frugality—remains one of my touchstones.
Almost four years to the day since I shook hands with Zak and Jori on the deal, Project 258: Making Dinner at Fish & Game has been released into the wild. You can buy it directly from the publisher here, and from Amazon here. I’d strongly suggest buying it from your local indie bookstore, however. They need your support. More things:
We finally got it together, just under the wire, to release the new Fish & Game Quarterly. Never ones to bury the lede, we’re pretty happy to announce that Project 258: Making Dinner at Fish & Game will be out on March 14 and you can preorder it right this very minute. It took three years to make this book, so if you’ve been a fan of this blog it’s safe to say that you will enjoy owning and reading the result.
Front yards are overrated. Sure, it’s good to have some grassy space to kick a ball or toss a disc with the kid, but otherwise lawn is a waste of square feet and resources, especially water. Rip out the grass, run a nice fence around it, and build some raised beds, though, and you’ve got yourself a one-stop shop for food, physical activity, neighborly sharing, and epic curb appeal.
For the new issue, we’ve expanded the Fish & Game Quarterly and given it its own site. We have also invited some estimable talents to contribute, in several genres besides culinary reportage: fiction, photo essay, and memoir. Future editions will expand further, into art, music, dance, poetry and random works of sui generis genius. It will mostly have somewhat to do with food, but may also not. Enjoy.
Apart from a couple of gloriously warm days, winter’s death throes have been pretty assertively shitty. On Monday, the first day of sugaring, the sun felt warm enough that I was able to work outside for a few hours as I tended the fire and kept an eye on the sap’s progress so Danny could mix a record inside. The fire needs stoking every twenty minutes to maintain a rolling boil; that’s not a long enough interval for him to sink into his magic studio reverie, but it’s easy for me to get up from the laptop and throw a few logs in between sentences. And I obviously have my author photo taken care of, so there’s that.