After years of research, an animal scientist looking for ways to keep inflammation down in cattle came up with a novel approach: feed them flax. The flax in their food helps keep animals healthy and has an added benefit for those who later eat their meat: omega-3 enriched beef.
In 1971, Alice Waters and some friends opened a neighborhood bistro in Berkeley with the aim of serving meals with the food and atmosphere of a dinner party at home. Forty years later, the way the nation eats has been dramatically changed by Chez Panisse. As the restaurant marks its anniversary, Forum talks with local chefs and food writers about the impact Chez Panisse has had on the local and national food scene.
The Brick Hut was a place for us all to create a space in the world
where we could be our complete selves.
The food was the community, the edible fare was our way of bringing it
all together, with love.
The Brick Hut Cafe was a haven for lesbians and gay men, an information center for LGBT activists, an anchor for a diverse community that included working girls, bad-boys, suburban queens, transmen and transwomen. We were the Dyke Diner: the Lesbian Luncheonette: the Chick Hut: the Brick Hug.
When is a dinner not a dinner? When it’s Dinner, a provocative performance of spoken word and live jazz at the Contemporary Jewish Museum of San Francisco, inspired by the exhibit Seeing Gertrude Stein: Five Stories.
Ruth Reichl was kind enough to carve out some time to chat with me while on a recent trip to Palo Alto for a speaking engagement. I asked her about how life has changed since the closing of Gourmet magazine, how she feels about food bloggers, and what she really thinks about Ruth Bourdain.
On President’s Day a reflection on the food policies and palate preferences of past presidents, with a side on the current commander-in-chief’s culinary choices.
Megan Gordon talks to local chefs about what they like to cook and eat with their partner on Valentine’s Day.
Host Cy Musiker talks with chef Roland Passot, owner of La Folie about the mark Rene Verdon made on the American culinary scene.
I’ve always loved beef stroganoff. When I was a kid, my mom would make large pots of the stuff and I would happily eat leftovers for days. As an Italian kid, it was exciting to eat a dish whose name ended with an “f” instead of an “i.” Stroganoff! Plus there was my mad obsession wondering what happened to the Russian Grand Duchess Anastasia. I was convinced, in a way that only young girls can be, that she had eluded execution and was living an undercover life somewhere. Taking small bites of beef mixed with egg noodles and sour cream, I would day dream about the life I imagined she had after escaping the terrible fate of her Tsar father and family, murdered by Bolsheviks.
From tangerine trees and marmalade skies to yellow matter custard dripping from a dead dog’s eye, the lyrical language of the Beatles is laden with talk of food. In a humorous study called “Eat the Beatles!” conducted earlier this year, Beatles super-fan and humorist Martin Lewis discovered that the Fab Four “actually recorded more overt references to tea than drugs!”
And then I thought about my cocktail and how it lead me to my current state of mind. A Death in the Afternoon is made of champagne–the drink most closely associated with celebration, and absinthe– the drink of forgetfulness. I thought it an odd combination; a conflict of emotions in a glass. And that damned drink had the opposite effect on me– it lead to the dredging up of painful memories that I certainly didn’t feel like celebrating. It is a drink that caused me to become acutely aware of what was absent from my life.