I was recently nominated for a James Beard Award for journalism, and statement which makes as much sense as saying “I was nominated for a Grammy for this cookie that I just ate.” The other nominees in my category are – I kid you not – The New York Times and The Atlantic. I submitted…
The emergency porchetta was my favorite part of the trip. That is a strange thing to say for a lot of reasons. For one, I don’t know if the concept of emergency porchetta is widely known. A Google search for the term reveals four results, the most salient of which is someone looking for cooking…
My husband and I are driving through southern Oregon, like we have every summer since we were married. I see a Red Lobster. I scream. I tell him to pull over immediately. He ignores me. After more than a decade together he can distinguish between my “something is urgently wrong” scream and my “I need…
I am not the first to discover Bar Luce. Designed by filmmaker Wes Anderson, it opened in 2015 and I did not learn of its existence until 2017, which is a lifetime in the world of the hip and the trendy. It sits on the outskirts of Milan, crowded with flawlessly beautiful and bored looking…
“You never wrote about the curry plane.” “The … the curry plane?” He nods, pouting. I am confused. “Like, a plane of existence that consists of … curry?” I ask, hoping for clarification. He is annoyed. “The curry plane.” “The curry plain,” I say, nodding, having no idea to what he is referring. “… a…
Last week, I decided to try Soylent. For those unfamiliar with this “food” product, Soylent is a high-protein drink designed to appeal to lifehackers, dieters, and doomsday cult members who are maybe a little shy and don’t want to come out of their bunker for communal meals. It has an incredibly long shelf-life, and provides…
Dear Spain, I like you. I truly do. You’re like Italy, but less mafioso-y. I begrudgingly appreciate how entire cities will shut down so that people can take naps. It’s absolute bullshit, and really annoying for tourists, but y’all are like, “FUCK IT! It’s 1pm. Let’s eat paella for 3 hours.” It’s hard not to…
The proprietor stands behind the counter, eyeing us warily. “How many do you want?” he asks. Lisa and I look at each other. “Maybe twenty?” she offers tentatively.
Note: This post is obviously unsponsored, because no one from M&M’s would pay me to say the things that I said. One of the great things about having friends (besides being the antidote for the crushing loneliness that encapsulated your late teens) is that you can make them eat things in the name of science.…
Tales of Food, Feminism, and Fury
by Geraldine DeRuiter
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