For the October issue of Chronogram, I profiled Warren Norstein of Big W’s barbecue on Route 22 in Wingdale, NY. His is a fascinating story; he essentially spent twenty years working backwards from the best kitchen in the country to a roadside BBQ joint. This unique career path is the result of a series of decisions, each of which prioritized his family and sanity over prestige and success. As an added bonus, here’s a clip…
Category: Other People’s Food
Recently we went to visit some old friends at their weekend house down in Sullivan county. We hadn’t seen them in ages, so it was good to catch up.
I dislike Tim Burton’s movies pretty intensely; his cheesy goth aesthetic reminds me too much of people I went to college with and his wanton mutilation of classic children’s stories is arrogant and disrespectful to artists much greater than he. (The suckiness of the rewrites doesn’t help). Nonetheless, this cake is pretty cool. If more cakes were scary and too awesome to eat, the Internet would be a better place.
For the June issue of Chronogram, I dutifully slogged both hither and yon surveying many of the region’s food trucks. Many of them are newly on the scene, and many of them make excellent and affordable fare. It’s an appealing career for people who like to cook but aren’t interested in the more complex challenges of a restaurant, and the personalities involved are diverse and interesting. Photo by Roy Gumpel
La foire nationale à la brocante et aux jambons (the antiques and ham market) takes place every spring and fall out in the Parisian suburb of Chatou. It began in the middle ages, when during holy week vendors would gather to sell their hams right in front of Notre Dame. Over the ensuing centuries, the market was subsequently moved to various other spots in the city. Over time, other flea market-type vendors joined the market, and eventually, in 1970, it ended up in Chatou, right under the RER station (which makes getting there from Paris extremely easy).
While it would have been wonderful to have nothing but multi-star meals during this trip, the simple truth is that it’s not possible. Paris is expensive, and the weak dollar means that the whole country is steep, even down in the provinces. The challenge has been to eat well on a budget while still choosing meals that will make for good copy–since despite all snark I am trying to make this trip worth reading about for all you good people who voted for me–without running up an insane tab.
Today was busy, and the sun arrived to make it truly splendid. We drove all over the area, covering a lot of ground and several subjects; Kate wanted to give me an overview of this place and a sense of the history and geography that have made it what it is culinarily. I have much to report, but for now here’s a quick look at what we had for lunch at a little épicerie that just opened last summer. The proprietor was an executive at Bausch & Lomb who got laid off and decided to follow his passion for food. The hill town of Lectoure should be happy that he did. The tower above is part of the Cathedral there; we visited a few gorgeous churches from my favorite period, Romanesque (though this one is actually early Gothic). The area has hundreds; it lies right at the confluence of two of the major Medieval pilgrimage routes to Santiago di Compostela.
Last night at dinner Jack mentioned that the big agriculture fair was happening down at the convention center at Porte de Versailles. This was doubly coincidental; not only did it accidentally correspond with my visit, but it was in the very same space where I used to install and deinstall copious quantities of contemporary art at the FIAC every October. That fair has moved back into the Grand Palais–it was relocated during extensive renovations–but this agriculture thing is freaking gigantic, using just about all the halls, which translates into acres upon acres of floor space dedicated to food and drink of every imaginable variety (provided it has something to do with France, or at least Europe). This here is the real Charcutepalooza.
After yesterday’s somewhat frenetic mission to stay awake, today had a more leisurely feel. I added a couple of days to the beginning of the trip so I could acclimate, see friends, wander around a bit, and do some non-meat-related things that involved galleries and museums and such. Today was mild, once again rubbing catlike on the lower edge of warm, so I strolled around, heading South from the hotel into the Jardin de Luxembourg and beyond for lunch and more.
Freshly returned from a few days in the city for spring break (truth be told, I really spent most of it at a Hooters in Paramus, NJ with Camille Paglia working on her script for a musical version of Caligula) I have a renewed sense of purpose when it comes to food. There’s so much about the city that I don’t miss: the parking, the noise, the smells, the noise, the expense, and how loud it is. But the food can be good. Having said that, though, I find that the older I get the fewer restaurants really do it for me. There’s the cheap ethnic hit, sure, and I could never make Indian or Thai meals as well or completely as the places we used to order from in Brooklyn, but beyond that category there are few joints in the middle range that succeed for me. Even among the high-end establishments (which every now and then I get to try) it can be hit or miss. Mostly I like to cook at home.