Back in grade school, the hours leading up to lunchtime were fraught with delicious anticipation.
What secrets were hidden in our brown paper bags that day? Bologna and Kraft singles on Wonder bread? Or peanut butter and honey on whole wheat? Would we be able to trade our Oreos for a Nutter Butter? Or - god forbid - did Mom pack fruit for dessert? That crinkly brown bag signified a world of culinary excitement and possibility, and for a young Gastronomista, plundering its treasures at noon was a thrill rivaled only by the monkey bars at recess.
The crinkly tote is constructed of buttery Italian leather and comes in two sizes - Picnic, which will fit your keys, phone, wallet, and an empanada, and Dinner, which can accommodate, say, a checkbook, a brush, a ginger beer, and a loaded bahn mi (thank goodness our palates have matured a bit.)
I like to spend my Friday mornings googling the word "barbeque" just to see what happens. Why? Because I'm reckless that way. You never know what's going to turn up on the Internet. Besides, if I hadn't been doing my favorite Friday morning activity I would never have discovered this:
My Everest.
Just so we are all totally clear, that is a pile of smoked ribs, with honey dripping on them from the ceiling.
[Insert sound of Miss Ariadne falling onto the floor in a swoon.]
This was part of a piece called Genesis that artist Jennifer Rubell created for the opening night of Performa back in 2009. We have been fans of Jennifer Rubell's work for a long time - her donut wall spoke directly to our fried-dough-loving souls - but this.
We here at Gastro HQ are longtime fans of the Milkshake. The Black Sesame, the Tart Strawberry, the classic Chocolate. We are also fans of the Milkshake, and bringing all the boys to the yard.
So needless to say, we can appreciate the Short Imagined Monologue by Jeremy Richards, as we imagine how we, cultivators of the proverbial milkshake, may reminisce in years to come.
Now on McSweeny's.
For your reading pleasure:
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An Aging Kelis, Years from Now, Reflects on a Milkshake Long Expired, but How the Boys, Ah, the Boys Remain.
BY
Jeremy Richards
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A soft pool of light falls across a corner of the stage. Enter KELIS, slow but matronly, rubbing her arthritic hands and staring off into the distance.
KELIS: It was … how long ago? No matter. The recipe is now public domain. Bananas, vanilla ice cream, pumpkin-seed butter—yes, that was the mystic green hue, the aftertaste of autumn, the chill beyond the tongue. Despite the hubris of my youth, I honestly don’t know if my results were better. Yes, I’ve had my challengers. Is preference inherited? Is it desired? What I do know is this: the grass is flattened out with the shapes of tents, and, simply, there is no more room in my yard. So it is with regret that I ask you boys to now leave.
Go on now. Please. I can no longer tolerate your patience, and the icebox is on the fritz. Perhaps—and it sounds callous, but I don’t know your intentions—perhaps this is what you were waiting for: Raymond passed on two months ago. You know something? He was lactose intolerant. That’s true, no, that is indeed true. Shame, shame, shame.
Do I teach? What do you mean, do I … oh. Oh, no, I could never live up to that promise, either. The milkshake is not learned. The milkshake is the cultivation of a suffering given way to risk—to pick up all that remains, stuff it down with a wooden spoon, and blend. This is why no one can re-create my lure. Now that I think of it, there was also this—there was the prayer I murmured as I held down the cover and pressed that button: Lord, please make my yard a beacon, make my yard a crosshatch of clover and grace, a place where those boys gone crazy over my milkshake may come to find shade. Amen.
And they came. Yes, Daniel, you were the first one to come in search of my milkshake. Still thirsty after all these years. But I appreciate that, I do. And then there’s … oh, Lawrence, I’ll never forget when you came to my doorstep with that bouquet of plastic straws. Oh! How I blushed. Yet you, too, went without a taste. Remember how I said, I said, “Once you get involved, everyone will look this way”? I was talking about you, Clarence, and you, Mitch, and Frank, Henry, Jack, Trevor, William—all of you got involved, like it or not.
And now, like it or not, you must find another yard. You must stop drinking from the hose and climbing the poplar tree. I have stopped charging, for I never really charged in the first place, and nothing I promised was ever mine to offer. So why? Why the promises? Sometimes I’d ask myself the same thing. Sometimes I’d push my hand into the blender before the shaking was done, dangle my fingers near the blades, then stop.
Martí Guixé has taken pop art and downscaled it - to your dinner plate. These portraits of iconographic 20th Century women, reminiscent of Andy Warhol's famous Portraits, are engraved into organic peas. That's what we call playing with your food!
Originally shown in 2001 as part of Foodwork. La Sala Vinçon, Barcelona.
What are we doing this weekend, you ask? Well we will be going on a lovely picnic in this smashing 1961 Rover 80 model P4 - with a fully equipped bar in the back, obviously!
...and..we're off!
We'll be carrying a full table, chairs, suitcase, picnic basket full of tiny tea sandwiches, and of course, a Victorian Tent and vintage skis, because you never know what fun is to be had when you're out and about.
Fortunately for us, it comes with a bar fully stocked with Hendrick's, this hostess' gin of choice.
Fully equipped for any imaginable festivity
We'll see you at the polo match kids. Bring a cucumber for garnish!
Let us preface this post with a fact - stop animation is guaranteed way to win our hearts and our affections. Stop animation featuring kick ass chefs, ambient music, and fresh ingredients that begin their metamorphosis into surreal landscapes??? We swoon. Our bellies ache, and we long to shrink ourselves into wee little ladies and frolic in them hills.
The hills are alive..with the smells of croissant...
We've got a major lady crush going for the two film makers Natasha Subramaniam and Alisa Lapidus, who you may remember from their gorgeous trailer for the upcoming film Zergüt. This time they've collaborated with patisserie Jordan Kahn of Red Medicine.
"The concept of depicting a culinary world growing from an empty plate as a landscape in itself is what inspired this exploration. Assiette is the first in what will be a series of works that depicts a dish emerge, ingredient after ingredient, and assemble itself to completion. Our objective was to make a fleeting, entrancing film which would reveal itself in a single continuous take, with no cuts -- a cinematic "bite". Here, a traditional croissant unravels to become an avant-garde dessert. We were interested in investigating the parallel between the ingredients on the microcosm of the plate mirroring the macrocosm of a green forest."
Keep it up ladies, we know there is more goodness to come from Chayka Sofia!
Lord knows, we sure love us some foodmadewithbooze. Killing two birds with one stone is so much more tasty when those birds are dredged in a savory, spiked marinade.
We found ourselves at a backyard party in Brooklyn recently, huddled under a tent, oblivious to the monsoon-style rainstorm surrounding us because our mouths were stuffed with barbecue. Oh. My. Word. Those pulled-pork sandwiches! The tangy fried chicken! What weather?
Between bites, we located the sweet, tattooed hostess from Sailor Jerry. "Oh, the Spiced and Sweet BBQ Sauce? The recipe is on our website. We have a ton of them. Do you like it?"
To say the least.
Turns out, the Sailor Jerry blog is a virtual treasure trove of rum-soaked recipes. From soup to semifreddo, one could make a fantastic four-course meal using liberal splashes of the spicy quaff. They provide printable recipe cards adorned with sweet vintage tattoos, too, so you can fantasize that your old salty sea-dog uncle passed down that recipe for Bruschetta (one-eyed Uncle Petey sure loved his bruschetta!)
Rather than keep all of this goodness a secret, the Sailor Jerry team has commissioned a small, handsome fleet of gleaming Airstreams to spread the barbecue love to needy locals across the country. The Great American Road Trip in a shiny vintage Airstream plus barbecue plus unlimited rum? We're quitting our day jobs.
Keep your eyes peeled for a tatted-up trailer and a bevy of pin-up girls, and you may be lucky enough to find yourself washing down some boozy pulled pork with Jerry's take on the Dark and Stormy, "The Perfect Storm."
Don't be too surprised if you find yourself in the midst of one, as well.
Last week we were invited to the launch of BOLS Sweet Tea at 1534 Bar, and let us tell you, it was sweet indeed. We instantly fell in love with the bar, a charming hideaway under the streets of Nolita with airs of French colonialism.
Ms. Charlotte Voisey at the Helm
We went with visions of summertime: sitting on the porch, drinking sweet tea, relaxing.... ahhh. But this is NYC, and us Yanks do things proper. We prefer our drinks up and downright fancy, so we were happy gals when we tasted mixologist Charlotte Voisey's amazing concoctions.
We started with the English Breakfast, a nice mix of BOLS Sweet Tea, St. Germain, lemon juice, orange marmalade, with a dash of egg whites. We followed this with the Simply Sweet Tea; BOLS Sweet Tea, fresh lemon juice, with half a rim of sugar to sweeten the deal. Ah yes, simple and delicious. That's how we like it.
English Breakfast - What a Beauty
Photo by Kent Meister
Simple Sweet Tea - So Simple So Delicious
Photo by Kent Meister
We loved the Simply Sweet Tea so much that we had to try it ourselves! Gastronomista's version of Simpler Sweet Tea (which we made in bulk because cocktails are better with friends) is a perfect summer beverage for hot, lazy days:
The Proper Arnold Palmer:
1 1/2 gallon carton lemonade
2 cups Bols Sweet Tea
2 thinly sliced lemons with the seeds removed
Maybe you've figured out by now, we here at Gastronomista have some deep Colorado roots. Yep, that's right. We've got some hippie in us. So it's no lie when we tell you that we grew up in health food grocery stores; teenage years spent pursuing cheese counters, aisles of dry goods stocked with organic grains, and flirting with all of those bearded cashiers and cheese mongers. Ah, those were the days.
We are tickled by this video by Fog and Smog - which explains all the ails of trying to find a parking space at Whole Foods. We feel your pain, Fog and Smog. Things can get rather aggresive at the Red Hook Fairway. But now we've got your track all lined up and ready to go when we pull in next time.
... Im ridin' slow in my Prius...
all leather, tinted windows... you cant see us!!
Everybody's trying to park, you can feel the tension
I'm in electric mode... can't even hear the engine (Shhhhhhh)
Without further ado, Whole Foods Parking Lot:
Amazing.
But us veteran health food shoppers know, before Whole Foods there was Wild Oats. And before Wild Oats there was Alfalfa's. Ah yes, nostalgia.
Leftover Salmon performed a song for KBCO Studio C Volume 2 in 1992 called Alfalfa's. A witty diddy about wanting to work at Alfalfa's and enjoy wheat-grass lemonade, spinach yogurt, and the like. We date ourselves; those were the days before all the cool kids started brewing their own Kombucha.
Thank goodness for corporate embetterment - Alfalfa's is back! So Fog and Smog, we recommend you drive your Prius on over to Boulder. Maybe the parking is better there?
The only thing better than an ice cold Tecate on a melty swelty day like this... is ice cold Tecate on a stick.
Heat Wave: 0; Tecate: 1
The geniuses at Diablo Royale Este debuted this stunner last year, but the time for boozy popsicles is right now and oh man, is it here with a vengeance. Plus, it's so easy to make there's really no excuse no to. Just add some simple syrup and fresh lime juice into a can of Tecate, put a wooden stick into the opening and put it in the freezer.
It takes four days to freeze properly though, so we suggest making a six pack of popsicles for all the heat that lies ahead. Or a twelve-pack. You know you want to. It's ok. We won't judge.
Summer is upon us, dear readers. And we need it. Lazy weekends, sun on our shoulders, laying in grassy fields with nothing but a book and a pint of strawberries, and of course, those yummy summer snacks that keep us fueled for more fun.
This summer we're craving boozy popsicles, lobster rolls, never-never ending punch bowls, and spicy, cheezy, delicious corn on the cob. Bring it on, we say - we are ready for you, summer.
Chris Silas Neil has us craving summer treats with is series of prints in fluorescent pink!
in 1992 called Alfalfa's. A witty diddy about wanting to work at Alfalfa's and enjoy wheat-grass lemonade, spinach yogurt, and the like. We date ourselves; those were the days before all the cool kids started brewing their own Kombucha.
