Issue Nº 8: Feast Your Eyes (Padma Lakshmi Cover) by Cherry Bombe

ROCK LOBSTER Issue # 8

US $20.00 CAN $30.00

Feast Your Eyes

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F| W 2016

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VISION QUEST Given how crazy the world is right now, we decided to focus on something a bit gentler for this issue: art and beauty. Our theme is “Feast Your Eyes” and as you flip through the pages, you’ll meet a lot of people who make the world a more beautiful place in their own special way. Like Chef Leah Chase, the iconic 93-year-old New Orleans chef who appeared in Beyoncé’s visual album, Lemonade, earlier this year. Chef Chase has fed revolutionaries, survived Katrina, and amassed an impressive collection of African-American art. If you find yourself in NOLA, go to her restaurant Dooky Chase’s and say hello. And order the gumbo. Then there’s our cover girl, Padma Lakshmi, the famous Top Chef judge—another person who’s beautiful inside and out. Be sure to read about her intriguing life and what she’s doing to help women around the world. Other feasts await you inside. Set sail in the Mediterranean with a very foodie crew. Visit the picturesque farm kitchen of superstar blogger Molly Yeh on the border of North Dakota and Minnesota. And go inside the beautiful mind of Berlin-based artist Sarah Illenberger. If you spend time on Instagram, you’ve seen her intriguing images that mix food with unexpected objects. “I love the beauty of the banal,” she told writer Charlotte Cowles.

Feast Your Eyes 16 INSTA-LOVE In focus with photographer Alice Gao

36 WELL SERVED Poppy Browne goes to the Four Seasons, Tarajia Morrell teaches us how to eat an artichoke, & Alexander Lobrano awakens his appetite

18 QUOTABLE Amirah Kassem & Gael Greene

44 CULTURED Edith W. Young visits Marfa, Marilyn Minter at the Brooklyn Museum

20 GPS Om away from home

50 DISHING Kai Avent-deLeon & Caroline Lebar

22 SNACK TIME The real deal with Daphne Oz

58 BOOK REPORT Joy Santlofer’s Food City

24 EPHEMERA Mixed Nuts by Naz Sahin Ozcan

60 THE BEST BOOKS ON FOOD Our favorites of the season

26 THE GOODS Guittard Chocolate, Lindsey Adelman, J.Crew, & Sweet Saba

COVER STORY:

HUNGRY FOR MORE

PADMA LAKSHMI’S APPETITE FOR LIFE COVER: SWIMSUIT ERES; NECKLACE ALEXIS BITTAR. BACK COVER AND ABOVE: BODY SUIT ELSE.

PHOTO BY JENNIFER LIVINGSTON; HAIR BY ANTONIO DIAZ; MAKEUP BY CHRISTIAN MCCULLOCH; NAILS BY NATALIE PAVLOSKI; STYLING BY MICHELLE JANK; FOOD STYLING BY MICHELLE GATTON; PROP STYLING BY NANSE KAWASHIMA; STYLING ASSISTANTJESSICA ROBERTS; FOOD STYLING ASSISTANT LAUREN LAPENNA.

88 124 JUBILEE 2016 Lessons from the third annual Cherry Bombe Jubilee conference 130 RESTAURANT GUIDE Check out these restaurants, cafes, & outposts 132 LAST CALL A sneak peek at The Cherry Bombe Cookbook

72 BRAIN FOOD Inside the mind of artist Sarah Illenberger

94 GENTL SOUL Photographer Andrea Gentl has an eye for beauty

78 MAMA TASTE Bow down: A chat with the legendary Chef Leah Chase

100 SHIPS, AHOY A moveable feast in the Mediterranean

82 INTERIOR LIFE Meet one of the most influential talents in the world of restaurant design, Robin Standefer of Roman and Williams 88 PALATE PALETTE Five famous artists viewed through food

110 SHEâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;S GOT THE BEAT Keeping time with Molly Yeh, percussionist & superstar blogger 118 OF MARRIAGE & MOLE How the traditional Mexican dish brought Annabel Mehran & Josh Eells together

118

CREATIVE DIRECTOR

EDITORIAL DIRECTOR

Claudia Wu

Kerry Diamond

CONTRIBUTORS

Sidney Bensimon Alix Browne Tim Bruening Charlotte Cowles Antonio Diaz Charlotte Druckman Nicole Franzen Michelle Gatton Gabrielle GeiselmanMilone Iain Graham Tom Hines Gillie Houston Lula Hyers

Michelle Jank Mattie Kahn Nanse Kawashima Billur Kazaz Hilary Knight Lauren LaPenna Cary Leitzes Jennifer Livingston Alexander Lobrano Catherine Losing Christian McCulloch Klancy Miller Tarajia Morrell Kristy Mucci

Sarah Parker atalie Pavloski N Chantell Quernemoen Patricia Reynoso Jessica Roberts Lauren and Abby Ross Anya Sacharow Naz Sahin Ozcan Lauren Salkeld Karolin Schnoor Shanita Sims Alpha Smoot Diana Yen Edith W. Young

EDITORIAL ASSISTANT

Donna Yen INTERNS

Byrne Fahey Annabel Surtees DIRECTOR OF BUSINESS DEVELOPMENT & MARKETING

Kate Miller Spencer

Cherry Bombe 55 Chrystie Street, #403 New York, NY 10002 For distribution, advertising, and general inquiries, please email info@cherrybombe.com

To subscribe, visit cherrybombe.com Copyright ©2016 Cherry Bombe. All rights reserved. No part of this magazine may be reproduced in any form for any purpose without written permission from the publisher. ISSN 2326-6945

CONTRIBUTORS’

what’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever eaten?

A: Sushi with its rainbow

of pink flesh, golden uni, marigold roe, snow white rice, and emerald seaweed. —Tarajia Morrell, writer and author

of The Lovage food blog, Manhattan

A: The most beautiful thing I’ve eaten somewhat recently was linguine allo scoglio at a restaurant called Osteria dei Marinai in the Sicilian town of Acitrezza.

Ice cold water on a hot summer day or Häagen-Dazs coffee ice cream with hot fudge. —Cary Leitzes,

writer, Manhattan

—Klancy Miller, writer and pastry chef,

Philadelphia

Every time I visit my hometown in Germany and eat some fresh rye bread for breakfast I can’t believe how good it tastes. It’s what I miss most about home! —Karolin Schnoor, illustrator

and screenprinter, London

A: The most beautiful food I’ve

eaten is from Blue Hill at Stone Barns in Pocantico Hills, New York. There’s really nothing lovelier that enjoying a meal that has been handled with so much care and intention. —Diana Yen, cookbook author and food

stylist, Manhattan

The carrot cake and chervil ice cream I had at Momofuku Ko, seven of the most ecstatic bites of food I’ve ever eaten. —Mattie Kahn, writer and fennel

convert, Manhattan

A: Gabrielle Hamilton’s

roasted bone marrow at Prune in Manhattan or the insanely epic and fiery shrimp Creole at Patois in New Orleans. Both are bucket list divine!

My aunt is an artist who works with gold leaf, and one Christmas she gilded a bunch of toasted pecans. They were way too beautiful to eat, but we did anyway. —Charlotte Cowles, writer and

aggressive napper, Manhattan

A: The most beautiful food I have ever eaten and miss every day are foods my mom and grandmother make. My grandmother grows her own tomatoes, peppers, and herbs, and even makes her own yogurt. —Billur Kazaz, illustrator and production designer, Manhattan

—Gabrielle Geiselman-Milone, photographer, New Orleans

A: On a recent trip to

Amsterdam, I was lucky enough to go to the seasonal restaurant Vuurtoreneiland. After a 30-minute private boat ride with glasses of Champagne and delicious cured fish, you’re welcomed to a small, lush green island where this glass-walled restaurant with 360-degree views is located. The five-course menu is fresh, colorful, and beautiful, the service warm and welcoming. One of the best dining experiences I’ve had in awhile.

A: I’m working on Kristen

Anita’s Creamline Coconut Yogurt. I’m on a restricted diet right now, doctor’s orders. But Anita’s coconut yogurt tastes like dessert! So much so that I feel a bit guilty eating it.

—Michelle Gatton,

—Nanse Kawashima, artist and prop stylist, Brooklyn

Kish’s cookbook at the moment, so all the dishes we get to eat after they are shot are the most beautiful. food stylist, Brooklyn

Eloise fans will be thrilled to know that Hilary Knight, the illustrator behind the beloved series of books, contributed original artwork for this issue. In the story “Poppy at the Four Seasons,” Knight tracks the culinary adventures of a modern day Eloise, Poppy Browne, and bids farewell to the famous restaurant. Knight was featured in the 2015 HBO documentary It’s Me, Hilary: The Man Who Drew Eloise, produced by Lena Dunham.

—Nicole Franzen,

photographer, Brooklyn

The amuse-bouche at Le Bernardin in Manhattan. —Shanita Sims,

illustrator, Chicago photographer, and over-thinker, New Jersey

A: My mother’s dome-

shaped fané and its deconstructed counterpart, Eton mess.

The oyster is the most beautiful food I’ve ever eaten, because every one of these rugged ancient bivalves contains an individual world of briny delectation and perfect nourishment. —Alexander Lobrano,

—Edith W. Young, writer and

writer, Paris

photographer, Manhattan

The grapefruit from my great aunt’s orchard in Florida were so gorgeously pink and perfectly tart. It’s the first food I ever remember eating and it really made an impression. —Lauren Salkeld, writer and recipe

tester, Brooklyn

A: The simplicity of the

Artichokes! I love that you have to work meticulously to reach the heart, which is the most delicious part. They are so simple, yet structurally gorgeous, and they bloom into funky purple flowers. —Byrne Fahey, executive director

of Penn Appétit, Princeton, New Jersey

A ripe tiger-stripe fig, split in half. But I’m floored by the natural beauty of any ripe fig, really. —Charlotte Druckman,

author of the new cookbook Stir, Sizzle, Bake, Manhattan

lobster roll from Luke’s Lobster at The Plaza doesn’t take away from the fact that it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever eaten. The delicately toasted and buttered roll, the middle overflowing with lobster… You can bet that I ate it with my eyes first. —Patricia Reynoso, writer and editor, Ridgewood, New Jersey

TO DO LISTS

TO PIN TO SPLURGE

I love the whimsical work of illustrator Jean Julien and was delighted to find out he created a limited edition pin collection. ballandchainco.com

Me&Ro turns 25 this year. Designer Robin Renzi makes her beautiful jewelry right here in NYC. Happy anniversary! meandrojewelry.com

TO CARRY A bag from Marlow Goods. Visit designer Kate Huling’s new Manhattan shop and learn why her ethically-made leather items are so special. marlowgoods.com

I worked with sommelier and Momofuku beverage director Jordan Salcito to brand Ramona, her new artisanal wine cooler made with dry white wine from organic grapes and natural grapefruit flavors. It’s like an ’80s party in your mouth! drinkramona.com

TO WRAP Illustration-focused Wrap Magazine also has a line of stationery, wrapping papers, cards, and an online shop that just might up your gifting game. wrapmagazineshop.com

TO LOVE

A rescue animal! Just a friendly reminder to #adoptdontshop.

TO READ

The Moon Juice Cookbook: Cosmic Alchemy for a Thriving Body, Beauty, and Consciousness by Amanda Chantal Bacon. If you can’t visit her shops in Los Angeles, this is the next best thing. moonjuiceshop.com

TO TOAST

TO BREW

I love Samovar’s teas, but two other brands I’ve got a crush on are August Uncommon Teas, for their interesting tisane flavors, and Leaves and Flowers, whose teas are as lovely and pure as their name. august.la leavesandflowers.co

TO EAT

Cherry season is so short. Thank goodness for pickled cherries from Chef Renee Erickson’s Boat Street Pickles line. Enjoy them with dishes sweet or savory. boatstreetpickles.com

TO UPCYCLE

Food waste concerns are leading to more products that use things once thrown away, such as Sir Kensington’s Fabanaise, a vegan mayo, which uses aquafaba (water left over after chickpeas are cooked), and Jcoco’s Arabica Cherry Espresso bar, blended with CoffeeFlourTM (made from the pulp of coffee cherries). sirkensingtons.com jcocochocolate.com

TO READ Cherry Bombe Issue #8, of course!

INSTA-LOVE

IN FOCUS by Gillie Houston On a gray afternoon in Gramercy, photographer Alice Gao stood barefoot at her kitchen counter, carefully pouring a kettle of hot water into her Kalita Wave. “I’m obsessive about my coffee,” she said, eyes focused on the stream of steamy liquid combining with the grounds. When it was done, she poured it into two lovely, sky-tone ceramic mugs—made by a local artist she knows. Gao’s surroundings were as dreamy in real life as they are on a smartphone. Tall golden candlesticks flickered on the windowsill of her marble-floored kitchen, and books and mementos stood artfully arranged against a single pastel blue wall. Through the door frame, her living room exuded the personal style that nearly a million followers have come to know: minimalist and chic, with a touch of luxury and warmth that makes you want to linger. Gao began as a hobbyist photographer while studying economics at the University of Pennsylvania. When she moved to New York seven years ago to work in the financial consulting field, she started a blog to document restaurants and coffee shops that she frequented around the city. “I didn’t think photography was a real career,” she said. And yet, a little over a year into her financial career, she called it quits, determined to pursue her passion full time. This was despite never having had a single paid photography job. She was 23. Gao joined Instagram about a week after the app’s launch and began using it casually, as a visual diary of sorts. When she was named one of the company’s “suggested users,” her follower count and strategy changed drastically. Gao eventually used her online platform as a professional launch pad. She landed photography gigs and sponsorship deals—both behind and in front of the camera—with some of the world’s biggest brands, including Cartier and Gap, and traveling the globe to shoot far-flung locations, from Barcelona to Seoul. “If I’m in a certain city, my photos will have a feel to them—each place dictates the mood and style.” In her own words, Gao’s style is “clean, modern, considered but effortless”: everyday scenarios made more beautiful by her eye for light and tone. While she rarely shoots people, favoring accessories, ceramics, and home goods as her subjects, Gao likes to leave “a hint of what kind of person might be in the space”— a hand resting lazily on the table; a figure gazing toward a distant horizon; a woman barefoot at her kitchen counter on a gray afternoon in Gramercy, streaks of sun behind her, drowned by layers of silvery cloud. instagram.com/alice_gao

QUOTABLE

“APPETITE IS

50% VISUAL." —Flour Shop’s Amirah Kassem, from the website Aftertastes

“I HAVE

NEVER EATEN ANYTHING THAT WAS BETTER THAN SEX." —Food critic Gael Greene from her autobiography, Insatiable

GPS

OM AWAY FROM HOME photo by Sidney Bensimon In the Indian village of Auroville, this banyan tree, with its sturdy presence and spiritual air, is almost as esteemed as the gleaming Matrimandir (at right), the town’s famous spiritual center. A utopian community, Auroville was founded by “the Mother,” Mirra Alfassa, in 1968 as a place where men and women could live in harmony, regardless of creed and nationality, and exchange skills rather than money. Photographer Sidney Bensimon visited the Matrimandir earlier this year and reveled in the beauty of the space. Designed by French architect Roger Anger, the building is covered in golden disks and houses a stark, white interior featuring the world’s largest glass globe. “The Matrimandir reflects the soul of the city of Auroville—a sense of peace, beauty, and innovation,” said Bensimon, who snapped this image one day as the sun set, capturing some of the tranquility she experienced in Auroville.

SNACK TIME

THE REAL DEAL by Gillie Houston photo by Sidney Bensimon On a cloudless day in Brooklyn, the yellow face of the Queen of Falafel café was lit up like a lemon peel on asphalt, a vibrant contrast to the industrial neighborhood around it. Out front, the similarly glowing Daphne Oz—author, mother, co-host of The Chew, and daughter to that other famous Oz—dug into a warm pita filled with fried chickpea balls, bright pickled vegetables, and a drizzle of creamy tahini. The Queen’s specialty just happens to be one of Oz’s favorite snacks. Her diet, like her life, is about balance—a little good, a little bad, a lot delicious. When she was dreaming up her new book, only one title came to mind—The Happy Cook. “A lot of people feel obligated to cook, but I want my time in the kitchen to feel like a liberty, not a chore. I want easy food that still feels special, ” she said. The cookbook’s emphasis on convenience and fun—it promises 125 recipes for making every day seem like the weekend—builds on her last bestseller, Relish, and her first book, The Dorm Room Diet, which Oz wrote following a 40-pound weight loss over her first two years at Princeton University. Writing that book “was about reestablishing my love of food.” Still, Oz admitted her relationship with food isn’t always easy—especially under the constant glare of studio lights in front of millions of viewers. Over the past five seasons of The Chew, her body has gone from “pretty fit” to “210 pounds and pregnant” and back again. Over time, she has embraced the opportunity to be just one example of what a healthy, happy, well-balanced woman looks like. “TV is the least flattering medium possible— they’re going to catch every flaw. I was learning the ropes at the dawn of social media, so I got to hear the good and the bad from anyone with an Internet connection.” Since then, Oz has developed a thick skin and taken the opportunity to promote body positivity to the fans who look up to her. Most importantly, she wants to set an example for her 2-year-old daughter and 1-year-old son. “We try to teach our kids to eat what we love—fresh food and fresh flavors. Being healthy doesn’t come at the expense of being delicious.” As Oz was about to finish her falafel, she paused. “At the end of my life, what am I going to remember?” she asked. “The size of my jeans or some incredible meal I stumbled upon?”

EPHEMERA

MIXED NUTS text and illustrations by Naz Sahin Ozcan

English proverb, by way of Mary Poppins.

calves with hooves, and veg that look a bit rugged” were just a few things on the grocery list of Downton Abbey food stylist Lisa Heathcote. “It’s… very much about the visuals, so I have to cast the food,” she told The New York Times. “I’m always looking at stuff and saying, ‘No, it’s the wrong shape.’ People must think I’m mad.”

a still life composed of a bowl, a goblet, and a piece of bread, was taken by Joseph Nicéphore Niépce, the inventor of photography, in 1832. was Georgia O’Keeffe’s reaction to a meal exceptionally well prepared by her cook and caretaker, Margaret Wood. They met when O’Keeffe was 90 and still tending her organic garden at her home in Abiquiu, New Mexico, milling her own flour, and buying local eggs and honey. O’Keeffe ate healthy and elegant meals. She wore white dresses in summer and black ones in winter, and a brooch with her initials, “GOK,” designed by Alexander Calder.

is the name of the taco stand where the first photo uploaded to Instagram was taken. The photographer? The company’s CEO and co-founder, Kevin Systrom.

is an edible ode to Cindy Sherman from Massimo Bottura, the Italian modernist chef and collector of contemporary art. His Bread is Gold, a dessert made of stale bread and sweetened milk, is a tribute to Sylvie Fleury’s gold-plated trash cans. He sees Joseph Beuys in his Riso Cacio e Pepe and Ai Weiwei in the deconstructed dish, Oops, I Dropped the Lemon Tart. “We’re not choosing the art,” Bottura once said of the works in his collection. “The art is choosing us.”

was on the cover of the very first issue of Gourmet, dated January, 1941. The editor’s letter promised the magazine would speak “that Esperanto of the palate that makes the whole world kin... good food, good drink, fine living... the universal language of the gourmet.”

is the title of a photograph in food stylist Victoria Granof’s Killed exhibition, featuring her editorial outtakes. Taken by Hans Gissinger for Vogue, it features edamame, chocolate, fish, and vitamin capsules—plus a human skull.

photographer Sharon Core grew the heirloom fruits, vegetables, and flowers that she used to create her Early American series, inspired by the 19th-century still-life paintings of Raphaelle Peale. For her earlier Thiebauds series, which replicated Wayne Thiebaud’s paintings of everyday desserts from the 1960s, Core made all the pies, cakes, and ice cream, even re-creating brush strokes with frosting.

former Vogue model, muse to Man Ray, photographer, and war correspondent, cured her post-war depression with her love of food and cooking. Her home, Farley Farm in Sussex, England, became the “Home of the Surrealists,” where she and her husband, Roland Penrose, hosted the likes of Pablo Picasso, Joan Miró, and Max Ernst. She won recipe competitions, covered stuffed chickens in gold leaf, and kept a library of over 2,000 cookbooks.

baked by Barbara Morgan, the late photographer and co-founder of Aperture magazine, has a lengthy ingredient list, including wheat flour, rice, soybeans, tapioca, couscous, millet, buckwheat, bananas, pineapples, strawberries, hazelnuts, lychee nuts, and pine nuts. The recipe is part of The Photographer’s Cookbook, published by Aperture and the George Eastman Museum. The book was put together in the 1970s, but only published this year.

Keith Haring, Nan Goldin, Ellsworth Kelly, Annie Leibovitz, Jenny Holzer, Alex Katz, and Cindy Sherman are among the artists who designed menus for Chanterelle restaurant during its impressive 30-year run as a dining destination in downtown Manhattan. According to Karen Waltuck, who co-owned the spot with her chef husband, “It all happened very organically. I don’t think it was particularly conscious; it was just our lives.”

is the name French film director Agnès Varda gave to the potatoshaped suit she wore to her Patutopia video installation during the 2003 Venice Biennale.

Savor the aromas. Jewels of fat glittering on the surface. Shinachiku roots shining. Seaweed slowly sinking. Spring onions floating. Concentrate on the three pork slices. They play the key role, but stay modestly hidden,” instructs the ramen master in the Japanese movie Tampopo.

was on the table in Leonardo da Vinci’s The Last Supper. The 1997 restoration of the work revealed that the dish contained fish, not Passover lamb, as some had supposed.

THE GOODS

CACAO NOW GUITTARD’S FANCY CHOCOLATE BARS photo by Alpha Smoot food styling by Kristy Mucci Chocolate, like art, takes a seemingly simple combination of elements and forms them into something more complex. And like the variations of tones on a painter’s palette, chocolate, too, has its subtle shifts in flavor, richness, mood, and depth. Perhaps no one understands these nuances quite like Amy Guittard, whose greatgreat-grandfather founded Guittard Chocolate, the iconic San Francisco-based company, in 1868. A recent project by the company targets aficiandos with a line of blended chocolate bars in flavors that represent “five generations of craft and curiosity,” said Guittard. Though each chocolate is marked with a different cocoa percentage, the nuances of flavor go far beyond a number, she noted. From the 38-percent-cocoa Soleil d’Or Milk Chocolate, with its subtle nuttiness and creamy, lingering notes of fresh dairy, to the 91-percent Nocturne Bittersweet Chocolate, with bright and elegant layers of red fruit and rich cocoa, each of Guittard’s bars is its own unique work of chocolate artistry. guittard.com

ENLIGHTENED THE CHERRY BOMB COLLECTION FROM LIGHTING DESIGNER LINDSEY ADELMAN photo by Lauren Coleman Orbs of soft light crawl up and down thin golden rods, bent like tree limbs and dripping with metallic chain, “illuminating the negative spaces in the room,” said Lindsey Adelman, the New York-based artist who often draws upon structural forms found in nature for her chandeliers, pendants, sconces, and floor lights. For the pieces in her Cherry Bomb series, Adelman, who studied at the Rhode Island School of Design, references the sudden, stunning bloom of cherry blossoms. “I liked this idea of the cherry bombs being indulgent but minimal and light-handed, feeling spontaneous and kind of spare,” Adelman said of the designs, which replicate “branches that are jagged and gnarly and awkward in a beautiful, unusual way.” lindseyadelman.com

VERY CHERRY Somsack Sikhounmuong, the head women’s designer for J.Crew, turned to our favorite fruit for the fashion brand’s latest collection. He said that he and his team created this cherry print in-house as “a playful take on the polka dot,” one of J.Crew’s signature motifs. His intent was to bring “a little bit of humor and surprise” to classic items, so look for cherries splashed on merino wool sweaters, jacquard dresses, silk bandanas, and fab flats. The Cherry Print Collection will be available in-store and online this fall. Thanks to J.Crew, our crew has its new uniform. jcrew.com

PHOTO COURTESY OF J.CREW

FRUIT-FORWARD FASHION.

SWEET DREAM MEET THE UNCONVENTIONAL CONFECTIONER BEHIND SWEET SABA by Patricia Reynoso photo by Tom Hines

To listen to Sweet Saba founder Maayan Zilberman talk about candy is to step into a dreamy wonderland. Especially when she tells you, her piercing green eyes shimmering over the memory, that a childhood dream inspired her collection of jewel-like candies. Think objects shaped like gemstones, lipsticks, watches, mixtapes, and even an evil eye.

Hollywood; this, on the heels of shutting down The Lake & Stars, a cult lingerie line she’d co-founded in 2007. She missed working with her hands, which isn’t surprising considering she holds a degree in sculpture from Manhattan’s School of Visual Arts. The multi-hyphenate Zilberman also missed working with food—she’d once run a custom cake business and a line of luxury chewing gum. (It’s main ingredient? Chicle, a natural rubberlike substance sourced from rare trees in the Yucatán Peninsula in Mexico.) While these businesses might all sound disparate, the Zilberman aesthetic—whimsical yet stylishly adult—ran through them all.

In this dream, a 12-year-old Zilberman had buried her “old stuff that I wanted to get rid of” in the backyard, only to discover that it had been transformed into candy overnight. For years, she tried to make sense of this—was she obsessed with sweets, she wondered? “But then I realized I was intrigued with letting go of things and having them transform into something sweet,” she said. “Eating these sentimental items makes them a part of you. They become an ethereal memory.”

On a whim, Zilberman, armed only with DIY molds (created after watching many YouTube videos, she admitted), sugar, her grandmother’s thermometer, and unbridled enthusiasm, began tinkering in her kitchen. She created molds of some of her most sentimental items, and soon friends were asking for their own candied memories.

This philosophy has been at the heart of Sweet Saba since its beginnings in Zilberman’s Brooklyn kitchen. The year was 2013, and the Israeli-born, Vancouver-raised, and New York City-based Zilberman had recently stepped down as the creative director of the once-iconic Frederick’s of

“I’d say, ‘Oh, I’m coming to your house for dinner next week. Is there anything you’re getting rid of?’ Or, maybe it was something they’d lost, like a pair of sunglasses.

I would take these items and give them back the candy version.” Not surprisingly, it became a really interesting gift, she said. Before long, this “creative outlet” had grown into a buzzy, bonafide business. Just a few months after its November 2015 launch, Sweet Saba capsule collections were being carried in Manhattan at the Whitney Museum of American Art, The Shop at The Standard hotel, and the Fort Gansevoort art gallery. A more extensive collection is carried on sweetsaba.com, and Zilberman hopes to open a boutique akin to a precious jewelry store. Another Sweet Saba signature is its library of quirky flavors, such as bacon, whiskey, eucalyptus, and red rose. “Do you know that some red roses don’t have a scent?” she asked, still in shock after her flavorist broke the news to her during a Valentine’s Day brainstorm. “This actually made me cry because it’s so poetic!” Zilberman met her trusted flavorist on Instagram, and they share a belief that candy flavors should be limitless. But it was Zilberman’s late saba (the Hebrew word for grandfather) who instilled a rule-breaking spirit in her younger self. The two were exceptionally close, and she loved his eccentricity, especially in the kitchen. “He was a kook. He dismissed the notion that just because something looked like this, it had to taste like that,” reminisced Zilberman. “He’d ask, ‘Why can’t I make a bubblegum-flavored bread? If you think it tastes good, then why is it wrong?’ He really flipped everything on its head, and that’s how I approach everything.” Her grandmother, meanwhile, influenced Zilberman’s glam girl aesthetic, particularly her omnipresent red lips and long, painted acrylic nails. “My grandmother believed that you should always have a mirror in the kitchen because you never know who’s coming over,” Zilberman said with a laugh. And the nails? Well, not only do they vibe with nostalgic beauty ads from the 1950s—a Zilberman favorite—but they act as “indestructible” sculpting tools. “I’ve done my own press-ons for almost 20 years!” she said. On the day we talked, over iced tea, her nails were long, tapered, and candy apple red. So what’s next for this sugar mama? Myriad projects, like a line of medicinal edibles that includes vitamin gummies, a holiday collaboration with Eataly, a sweets-focused travel show, and yet another lingerie project. When asked how she manages everything, Zilberman smiled and brought it back to her beloved family. “My mom always said to me that once you love what you do, you’re never working.” sweetsaba.com

FROM TOP: SWEET SABA‘S SIGNATURE CRYSTAL CANDIES; CANDY

MIXTAPES; ZILBERMAN AT HER WORK TABLE; EYEWEAR LOLLIPOPS. WORK TABLE PHOTO BY JASON LEWIS; ALL OTHERS COURTESY OF SWEET SABA.

WELL SERVED

POPPY at the FOUR SEASONS A SWEET FAREWELL TO THE “COTTON CANDY” RESTAURANT by Alix Browne illustrations by Hilary Knight

I can’t remember the first time I ate at a grown-up restaurant. It might have been on a trip to Paris when I was 13. My mother, who considered herself something of a foodie even back then, took me to both Jamin and La Tour d’Argent. I was a finicky eater to say the least, but my palate had expanded far enough to include lamb chops, so it was reasonably safe to take me anywhere French. At Tour d’Argent, I ordered the Poulet de Bresse. None of their famous pressed duck for me, merci.

we don’t go now, she may never get to go. The Four Seasons was scheduled to close as part of a major overhaul of the space by Aby Rosen, whose real estate company owns the iconic Mies van der Rohe-designed Seagram Building, where the restaurant had been housed since 1959. There was no guarantee that the venerable tradition of cotton candy would be upheld when the new restaurateurs took over. So I made a reservation for two at 6 p.m. on a Friday night, in the Pool Room.

My daughter Poppy currently subsists on a diet not dissimiliar to airplane food: pasta, chicken, or fish—prepared in the most unimaginative manner possible. If I am being generous, I might call her a purist.

I had my own reasons to be nostalgic. When I was a young writer, Art Cooper, then editor-in-chief of GQ and a fixture of the power scene in the restaurant’s clubby Grill Room, had taken me to lunch there before hiring me as an associate editor at the magazine. We sat at his regular table, and he pointed out all the bigwigs from the worlds of media, finance, and politics seated around us. I couldn’t tell if he was testing me or just showing off by having lunch with a woman half his age. Maybe a little of both. (Years later, Cooper would suffer a fatal stroke as he sat enjoying his last meal at that very same table.)

The only restaurant she will go to willingly is Edward’s, a burger joint near our apartment in Tribeca with an extensive kids’ menu. I can’t blame her. Over the years she has become a regular. She and Edward are on a first-name basis, the host calls her “Princess,” and she always gets her favorite corner booth—the one by the register, not the one next to the door, in case you were wondering.

“It’s the most beautiful room in all of New York City,” I told Poppy of the Pool Room, the architect Philip Johnson’s ode to the International Style, anchored by four potted trees that changed regularly in accordance with the seasons and oriented around an actual white marble pool. Metal bead curtains gave the impression of water gently cascading up the floor-to-ceiling windows.

So it surprised me somewhat when for the past couple of months anytime I asked Poppy if she wanted to go out for dinner, she would respond, “Let’s go to the cotton candy restaurant!” Okay, maybe not so surprising for a 6-year-old to want to go to a restaurant that serves cotton candy. Of course, the restaurant in question was the Four Seasons. I had no idea she even knew it existed.

Poppy was full of questions, mostly about the pool. Were there fish or turtles in it? Did people swim in it? Could we sit next to it?

Now the Four Seasons was not the kind of place you could casually drop by on a weeknight with a child in tow. But after the fourth or fifth or tenth ask, I finally thought, If

As it turned out, we were not seated anywhere near the pool, but on the perimeter of the room facing inward,

which, as I tried to explain, was actually the better vantage point for both being seen and taking in the scene. This, of course, meant nothing to her. But any disappointment was quickly eclipsed by the bowl of maraschino cherries that arrived with her water and the discovery that the bread basket contained not just rolls, but mini croissants. “And you know, they have French fries!” she exclaimed. I did not know that. French fries were definitely not on the menu, only some sort of potato rösti. Eagle Eyes had apparently spotted them on someone’s table as we were being escorted to ours. As the waiter took our order—kale Caesar salad for me, followed by the Dover sole for two—he corroborated the French fries rumor. “Anything is possible, madame,” he assured me. I didn’t dare ask if the chef would mind whipping up an order of chicken nuggets. Suffice it to say that the Dover sole experiment was a disaster. Despite its superficial similarity to the fish sticks she regularly eats, Poppy insisted (over and over and over) that she was afraid to try even the tiniest bite. After some intense but futile negotiating and some truly dramatic crocodile tears, I started to sense a hostage situation coming on. Rather than ruin what up until then had been a perfectly lovely evening, I let her off the hook, telling her she could still order the cotton candy—as long as she finished her French fries. Which, depending on how you look at it, either qualified me as the worst mother in the world or the absolute best. Between courses we took an obligatory trip to the grand ladies’ lounge, where the bank of bulb-lit vanity mirrors always delights. As we returned to our table via the travertine-lined corridor where Picasso’s stage curtain for the Ballets Russes production of Le Tricorne once hung, Poppy made a point of curtseying to everyone we passed, turning on the charm a little exuberantly, perhaps in an effort to make up for the Dover sole scandal. Predictably, the cotton candy was the highlight of the evening—an immense pink cloud studded with candied lavender, served on a plate and topped with a candle, which we blew out and relit more than once from the votive on the table. When the man sitting at the table next to us commented how the fairy floss reminded him of Donald Trump’s comb-over, some of the joy was sucked out of the scenario for me. “I just posted it on Instagram and used an orange filter,” he told us right before Alex von Bidder, one of the restaurant’s soon-to-be-former owners, regaled him and his dining companions with a story about how a waiter once set Elizabeth Taylor’s hair on fire with a flambé dish. But Poppy was undeterred, daintily pulling off tuft after sugary tuft with her fork and spoon. In the end, she barely made a dent. “I wish we could eat the whole thing,” she declared with a pronounced sigh. “But I know it’s just not possible.”

I thought mine an ordinary childhood: paper dolls and make-believe; coq au vin or sole meunière; pollen from the terrace flowers blowing through and mingling with dust on the wine bottles that occupied every surface of the apartment. My mother was my best friend, consistently a holler away, paying bills at the dining table, making pesto or pissaladière in our Lilliputian kitchen. I grew up in what had been my father’s bachelor pad, a quirky old apartment across from the United Nations that had more outdoor space than indoor. My bedroom was made by combining a dining alcove and a closet. When I was a teen, my outstretched arms reached both walls. From my room I could hear my mother’s ticks—her slow methodical chopping, the way she drummed her hands three times after rinsing a bowl or pot clean, the snap-snap as her shears pruned the sharp tips off artichoke leaves. The dining table was the center of our lives. Isn’t this ordinary? It seemed so to me because it was the only life I knew.

(offered by yours truly, with a stack of starched cocktail squares in my other hand). Once seated, they enjoyed corn cakes with caviar and crème fraîche accompanied by Champagne Laurent-Perrier Brut, then duck and pork cassoulet served with Hermitage “La Chapelle” 1978 Domaine Paul Jaboulet, followed by bitter greens and Stilton, and finally pear tart with Château Climens 1976 Barsac. From May on, we dined on the terrace—my miniature wilderness with a view of the Pepsi-Cola sign across the water in Long Island City—where we occasionally slept during August heat waves. It was during one particular al fresco meal that I learned the correct way to eat an artichoke.

Among the various guests my parents invited over were George Michael, “the long hair specialist”—who, for my mother’s wedding day, had woven tiny daffodils into her tresses to match her yellow dress— and his wife, Merci. If memory In 1970, when he was 26 years serves, Merci was a Gauguinold, my oenophile dad created esque dark-skinned beauty with an industry brouhaha by flying to a heavy jet-black mane, the tips of London and buying the most exwhich moved softly in the perpetpensive bottle of wine ever sold ual breeze of the terrace, like buds at auction: a double magnum of on spring branches. When my 1865 Lafite Rothschild for $520. mother served our second course, He brought it back to New York cool artichokes with vinaigrette to and invited members of the food go with Dad’s Sancerre Clos de and wine press to join him in la Moussière Domaine Alphonse drinking it at the Four Seasons Mellot, the convivial table beby Tarajia Morrell restaurant in the Seagram Buildgan to attack their pretty thistles illustration by Karolin Schnoor ing, thus proving that exquisite with gusto. As my father waved wines were idling in the cellars a skimmed leaf around as puncof Bordeaux, waiting to be drunk, tuation for the joke he was telling, and that Americans should buy them and enjoy them stat. I was transfixed by what was happening to my right. It was a game changer. Merci was removing one leaf at a time, dipping it in her My mother had fallen for my father’s “groovy” style, his ramekin of vinaigrette and skimming the “meat” off against trademark beard, his propensity for bellbottoms, and his her bottom teeth. Then, rather than tossing the finished predilection for excellent, often-undiscovered wines. On leaf toward a disorderly pile on her plate, she placed it in April 11, 1974, my father returned to the Four Seasons to a growing row of leaves around the periphery of her dish. wed his bride in front of 30 friends and family members. The skimmed leaves lay in a perfect circle like fallen domiJust like that, the Brooklyn agnostic Jew, whose family wine noes, and—like any only child who takes cues from the business began with selling Manischewitz during Prohibi- adults around her—I began to mimic Merci, rearranging tion and by the 1970s was one of the most esteemed in my discarded leaves and following suit with each leaf that New York City, and the New England Protestant, who grew I consumed until I had a tidy verdant ring around my plate. up on L.M. Montgomery novels, TV dinners, and flashlight tag, were unified. My father had found himself the most The heart that hides beneath the choke, as rough as a cat’s eloquent, gracious, and gorgeous wife… but there was a tongue, was not wrestled out with one’s fingers. Merci glitch: She couldn’t cook. Ten years later, by the time I was caressed it out with the tip of a butter knife. The tender 5, the situation had long since been rectified. Pouring over concave round was then cut into quarters and devoured in Julia Child and the Silver Palate cookbooks, my mother four earthy, metallic bites. I have never eaten an artichoke had found her way. any other way since.

how to EAT AN ARTICHOKE

We weren’t wealthy, but when it came to food and drink, it was only the best. Antique crystal decanters were used at Tuesday night suppers for just us three. For dinner parties, there were four or five region-specific wine glasses to accompany each course, laid out on the table with the good silver and pressed linen napkins. Guests were served smoked salmon with capers and lemon on toast points

Twenty-five years later, in cooking school, I would adopt the adage: “We eat with our eyes,” a constantly imparted statement from Chef Alain, our instructor. The splendor of food is not just in the pleasure it gives our taste buds— it’s in the occasion we make each meal, the devotion we give each morsel, and the beauty found even in the detritus of a well-loved dish.

That one errant peach was just out of reach. It was also blushed by garnet blazes, but otherwise alluringly paler— almost butter colored—than the vividly roseate pile of the same fruit delicately arranged in a shallow oyster-gray faience bowl on a table covered with a white cloth. The subject was simple, but the little canvas, Still Life With Peaches, fascinated me.

Avoidance wasn’t what led me to enroll in the history of western art class at Smith College, however. No, I’d signed up because it was generally considered the best such course taught anywhere in the country at the time. And this is how I found myself sitting on a stool in the arthistory study room on a February afternoon, gazing longingly at paintings that depicted the exquisite succulence of Gallic gastronomy.

Did artist Pierre-Auguste Renoir intend, I wondered, to create a puckish allegory on a black-sheep theme? Would the people in the rowboat tied up inside the skirt of shade created by the wispy green wands of the willow tree growing on the banks of the Seine, the scene the same painter depicted in Boating at Argenteuil, the next reproduction on the wall of the art-history study room at Smith College, eat this fruit for dinner? And who was that slightly flushed and very handsome man in a blousy shirt with a close-cropped beard enjoying a postprandial cigar and Cognac in his Lunch at the Restaurant Fournaise? Damn, did I yearn to climb right into this painting. So badly that, for the first time in weeks, I recognized something sadly foreign stirring inside myself, a tiny teasing flicker of pleasure.

To be sure, food had been an occasional theme of other periods of art we’d already traversed. Even though I like apples a lot, musing over dozens of depictions of Eve succumbing to their appeal failed to persuade me that this pleasantly healthy, wholesome fruit could credibly have become, the Bible notwithstanding, the Christian world’s most infamous emblem of temptation. The groaning sideboards piled high with braces of pheasant, crimson lobsters on pewter plates, glowing grapes, and fuzzy apricots depicted in Flemish still lifes came closer to my idea of the pulse-pounding thrill of surrendering to desire. Some foodthemed paintings of a more innocent nature also moved me, like Vermeer’s The Milkmaid, from which I learned the lesson—fully APPETITE AWAKENED expressed by the pretty, gentlelooking young woman’s dress buttoned or hooked closed tight by Alexander Lobrano across her breasts—that often illustration by Billur Kazaz what is not exposed in art is more erotic than what is.

BRUSHSTROKE

During that New England season of short, dark days and dirty, gray ice, it had seemed nothing could soothe much less solace the trinity of my miseries: boredom— I hated living in a small town; horniness—local opportunities for sex were almost entirely heterosexual; and hunger—the food in the dining commons was insolently bad. As a student at Amherst College, a small liberal arts college in western Massachusetts that was smugly self-satisfied with its own esteemed reputation, I lived in a drab and pointedly austere (the school had been founded on a hill in 1821 by stiff-backed Congregationalists) world that smelled of wet wool, spilled beer, and delicate tufts of ancient dust being scorched in the crevices between cast-iron ribs of radiators that occasionally hissed rust-scented farts of steam.

Since food was the only possible vector of pleasure beyond reading fiction and masturbation, I found myself increasingly fascinated by the role it played in the paintings I studied. If the foods depicted didn’t always provoke turgid temptation, they generally suggested that one could eat much better than the oatmeal, jelly donuts, baloney sandwiches, and meatloaf that would have populated a still life of the gastronomic staples of my childhood in a suburb of New York City. Leaving behind the fug of the cork-lined walls of the study room, I stepped outside to smoke a Newport. Looking at the lonely, leafless old black elms on the campus and watching big, fat, wet flakes of snow eddying through the air, it dawned on me. Those paintings by Manet, Monet, and Renoir, the ones that had roused in me an actual animal need and want, might also be suggesting the existence of a possible map to a life I could lead, one that would sate most of my appetites. It all came clear in a flash. I would go to France and find a long, lean, blue-eyed Frenchman like the one in the Renoir painting, and we would eat oysters and apple tarts like the ones Monet depicted in his canvas Les Galettes, and then we’d rut. And if I could actually make this happen, I’d write about it later.

I’d ended up here by an accident born of pride. Two years earlier, when I’d discovered that my best friend in high school had applied to my father’s alma mater without telling me, I was furious and instantly applied to the same school. Well, I got in and he didn’t, and because the school was so selective and easily the best of those I’d aimed for, I went, only later realizing that I’d unwittingly sentenced myself to an excruciatingly preppy and oafishly jockish place where the social life spun around bawdy fraternity parties. I hated it more with every passing day. So I reduced my presence there as much as I could by taking classes at nearby schools.

CULTURED

After gallery hopping and eating my way through town, the compositions on my plates lingered in my memory even as recollections of Judd’s woodcuts and Roni Horn’s copper sculptures softened and blurred.

SLICE OF MARFA

I was most intrigued by the Pizza Foundation, the resident pizzeria with the genius moniker riffing on the local art institutions, like the Judd Foundation and the Chinati Foundation, that made the town a destination in the first place. Shaded from the midafternoon sun, I chased down two slices of a hand-tossed Margherita pie with their signature limeade.

SISTERS MAIYA AND SAARIN KECK ON FEEDING FOLKS IN THE WEST TEXAS ART COMMUNITY

I wondered about the faded Red Sox pendant adhered to the window, and only later learned that the owners of the Pizza Foundation, Saarin Keck and her husband, Ronnie O’Donnell, went to the Rhode Island School of Design (RISD), where I had studied photography, right in the heart of Red Sox Nation. As an outsider, I began piecing together the town’s connections, and found that Saarin’s sister, Maiya, had run the town’s most upscale restaurant, the eponymous Maiya’s, which opened in April 2002 and closed last year. Maiya’s restaurant kept the Marfan diners on their toes with a menu that changed daily. Her seasonal focus and her training in Providence’s Italian restaurant circuit were evident in delectable dishes such as the Asparagus Sunny Side: a small pan of roasted asparagus in olive oil and ParmigianoReggiano cheese, topped with an oozy egg.

story and photos by Edith W. Young

Feeling a gravitational pull to the West Texan desert, I made a pilgrimage to Marfa, the isolated stretch near the Mexican border that became a haven for creatives after artist Donald Judd began to accumulate property in the one-stoplight town. The trip’s itinerary promised a week of deliberate looking: bathing in the glow of Dan Flavin’s neons, marveling at the Judd Foundation’s preservation of artworks in such an unforgiving climate, feeling small in the midst of Andy Warhol’s The Last Supper and John Chamberlain’s sculptures culled from automobile parts. While I had prepared for an adventure demanding on the eyes, my sense of taste was thrilled by what materialized on my plate at every food truck, café, and restaurant.

Following the closure, Maiya’s team built a commercial kitchen behind her grocery store, the Get Go, for catering and prepared foods. An unexpected gourmet delight in the high plains of the Chihuahuan Desert, the Get Go provides the comforts of a well-edited market, selling basics as well as artisanal treats such as Jeni’s Splendid Ice Cream and Laura Chenel’s goat cheese. Maiya also owns Mirth, a store featuring utilitarian objects for home and play, like brass bottle openers and copper bike bells. She spent time traveling this summer, doing research, and producing “farm to fork dinners” at Sandiwood Farms in Vermont. “I needed to get out and work with farms and more fresh produce to advance the ideas I have for my next project,” she said.

Part of my attraction to this little Texas town stemmed from a personal connection to Castine, a village in Maine not unlike Marfa. Far from any metropolitan area, Castine had enjoyed its own moment as a literary mecca around the middle of the last century, as writers like Robert Lowell, Elizabeth Hardwick, and Mary McCarthy convened there each summer, working away in their writing barns during the day and drinking vodka-and-milks in their party barns at night. Beyond the perfect lobster roll, Castine’s edible pickings had remained slim as the village stayed well off the beaten track. I expected Marfa to be no different.

Ronnie and Saarin, meanwhile, had traveled to Marfa multiple times to visit Maiya—but they never considered moving to the Texan town. When Maiya opened her restaurant, they went out to help and set up some front-of-house operations, which is what Saarin had been doing for RISD grads George Germon and Johanne Killeen of Al Forno, Providence’s top restaurant. Saarin and Ronnie were looking to open a place back east with Germon and Killeen’s help, but they were talked into staying and opening Marfa’s sole pizza place.

Upon my arrival, though, I encountered Jett’s portobello burger, the antidote to a day spent driving through the Chinati Mountains, weaving in and out of Mexico. Then there was the brilliantly named Marfalafel from the Food Shark truck. And, after a day spent at the nearby Cibolo Creek Ranch, now infamous because a certain Supreme Court justice passed away there, I enjoyed a prickly pear margarita made by the resort’s bartender.

With fond memories of being well fed at both Maiya’s Restaurant and the Pizza Foundation, I talked to Maiya and

Saarin about their journey from art school to this art outpost in the desert. Where are you from, and how did you end up in Marfa? SAARIN KECK: I was born in Rome, Italy, and grew up in Providence, New York, and D.C., and then went back to Providence for RISD. I consider myself a Rhode Islander. MAIYA KECK: Trips to Rome as a child whet my culinary appetite. It was the ’70s, and we ate in restaurants or at dinner parties for every meal. I was exposed to Italian meats and cheeses, the finest pastas and traditional Roman cooking. It’s still my favorite city in the world.

[Donald’s daughter] Rainer Judd brought me to Marfa first as a teenager. We knew each other through our schoolmates in New York. Rainer and I traveled through Europe together and shared a love of all things exquisite! When we were teens, we had an “elite” club, just the two of us, called the EDK—Eccentric Downtown Kids. In order to join, you had to eat a huge decadent ice cream sundae with all the fixings. We both grew up surrounded by artists and creative thinkers. Her mother was a dancer and a chef. Did your time at RISD studying art impact the way you run your restaurants and businesses? MK: My RISD experience, as a painting major, totally

cheddar, and Swiss with sprouts, carrots, lettuce, and onion, and my sister even put a dish on the menu named after me here in Marfa: “Saarin’s Salad,” with shrimp, roasted beets, avocado, and fresh horseradish dressing.

influenced me as a chef and business owner. You make more decisions in a shorter period of time when you paint than any other process I can think of. I learned how to be confident in my decision-making process and to trust myself with my creativity. As a chef, it is so important to think on your feet. That’s basically the definition of painting. SK: I majored in sculpture, and Ronnie majored in film and video. There is a certain attention to detail in our business that I may have picked up both from my classes at RISD and from George, Johanne, and even my dad. Dad used to look at a piece and say, “Less is sometimes more,” which is important to remember when you are trying to make food. The more overwrought the dish, the more you can lose sight of the fact that really ripe or fresh or quality ingredients can stand on their own. My sculpture was about repetition, and food can be about the same thing. It needs to look good, but it also has to taste the same each and every time. Were you interested in food as a student? When did cooking begin to pique your interest? SK: My earliest memories are dinner parties. I can remember Block Island with Dad and his friends, who were artists and chefs, all cooking up a storm. Our house in Providence, then in Provincetown, Cape Cod, and Rome, when Dad was heading RISD’s European Honors Program there—these were all places and times where it seemed like life revolved around what to eat next, or cooking, or great meals. I think RISD was filled with creative people and that cooking was just one expression of their art form. I was always a “make your own” kind of eater. I have a sandwich named after me at Geoff’s Superlative Sandwiches in Providence, the “Saarin’s Choice,” with melted muenster,

MK: As a RISD student I had to work. Little did I know that working for two of the best female chefs and bosses would influence my career choice and businesses later. I worked with Johanne at Al Forno and Maureen Pothier [then executive chef at the Bluepoint Oyster Bar & Restaurant in Providence and now department chair of culinary arts at Johnson & Wales]. I was like a sponge soaking everything up: working and learning in the restaurant business and loving it as much as school. Johanne and Maureen had very different menus and styles of cooking, but both taught me about quality and the importance of attention to detail. It is the culmination of all the small things and the way they are executed that elevate a dish to greatness.

How have you seen Marfa change since you moved there? MK: Marfa has changed a lot since I moved there in 1994. When I first came to Marfa, it felt like a town with possibilities... being on the very western edge of the central time zone, it has a ton of beautiful daylight. Local families I met were so surprised to see a 20-something deciding to move to Marfa instead of away. I was welcomed very warmly into the community… invited to dinners, and I had opportunities to coach softball teams and be on the board of the Chamber of Commerce. Marfa had a sort of feeling where if there was something you felt passionate about doing… you could! There is less of a feeling of the open Wild West now and more of a feeling of development and control. Today, I see a lot more tourist-based businesses and a focus on that industry. I think it’s difficult for a town as small and isolated as Marfa to have to rely on visitors for a steady economy. It turns the town into a sort of vacation island with a feel like Block Island or Martha’s Vineyard instead of a viable community. Marfa’s culinary scene is changing as well. SK: Culinary Marfa goes in waves: sometimes there’s not much and sometimes there are a lot of choices. We are lucky to be in a time where there are choices, but we know it can all change tomorrow, so everyone has to keep coming back to see what is new.

MAIYA’S

FLOURLESS CHOCOLATE CAKE “I love this cake because it’s gluten-free, works for Passover, and can be ready in a flash,” said Maiya. She decorates the cake with powdered sugar and serves it with whipped cream and fresh berries.

Heat the oven to 325°F. Butter a springform pan. Melt the chocolate in the microwave or in a double boiler. Whip the egg yolks, sugar, and vanilla together, then add the almond flour, chocolate, and butter.

1 stick plus 1 tablespoon butter, room temperature, plus extra to grease the pan 4½ ounces 70 percent dark chocolate 4 eggs, separated ½ cup plus 2 tablespoons sugar ½ teaspoon vanilla extract 1 cup almond flour

Whip the egg whites until stiff peaks form. Fold the egg whites into the chocolate mixture. Bake for 30 to 35 minutes until the center is set and no longer wobbly. The cake will remain flat and will be moist. Remove from the oven and let rest for at least 10 minutes to set further before serving.

SAARIN’S FRUIT-AND-PECAN

UPSIDE DOWN CAKE “We have tons of frozen and fresh fruit on hand, so I needed a way to use it all,” said Saarin. “This is a quick and easy dessert to make in about an hour that can bake while you eat dinner.” You can use most seasonal fruits for this cake—berries, stone fruits, apples. The Cherry Bombe team tried several fruit combinations when testing the recipe, and our winner was plum and blueberry.

butter over low heat. Turn off the heat and stir in the brown sugar. Spread the brown sugar mixture into an even layer. Arrange the sliced fruit and toasted pecans in the bottom of the pan, keeping in mind that the cake will eventually be flipped over, so give some thought to the design and the arrangement.

½ cup pecans 2½ sticks butter, softened ¾ cup brown sugar 3 cups sliced fruit of your choice 1¼ cups flour 1 teaspoon baking powder ½ teaspoon salt ¾ cup sugar 2 eggs, room temperature 1 tablespoon vanilla extract ½ cup milk

In a large bowl, cream the sugar with the remaining 2 sticks of butter until pale and fluffy. Add the eggs, beating after each until fully incorporated, then add the vanilla. Add about a third of the flour mixture, stir until incorporated, then add ¼ cup of the milk. Continue alternating the dry ingredients and the milk. Do not overmix the batter. If you are using an electric mixer, it helps to switch to a wooden spoon to avoid overmixing.

In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, and salt.

Using a spatula or a spoon, gently add the batter to the top of the fruit and spread evenly. Be careful not to ruin your pattern. Place the skillet on the middle rack and put a sheet pan underneath on the lower rack to catch any fruit bubbling over. Bake for 45 to 60 minutes, or until the cake is a medium brown and a tester poked into the center emerges clean.

Pre-heat the oven to 300°F. Spread the pecans in a single layer on a sheet pan and toast in the oven for 10 minutes. Flip all the pecans after 5 minutes. (Be careful not to let them burn.) When the pecans are done, remove from the oven and turn the heat to 350°F.

Take the cake out of the oven and allow it to cool for 3 minutes. Run a knife around the edge of the pan, then carefully flip the cake onto a serving platter or cookie sheet. Serve warm with ice cream or whipped cream. Enjoy the leftovers tomorrow dunked in coffee

In an 8-inch cast-iron skillet, melt 4 tablespoons of the

CAVIAR DREAMS A CELEBRATION OF ARTIST MARILYN MINTER COMES TO THE BROOKLYN MUSEUM by Claudia Wu

It’s safe to say that our culture sends women mixed signals about beauty, sexuality, and glamour. For the past 30 years, painter and photographer Marilyn Minter has been casting a critical eye on these feminine tropes. Her work has always been controversial and thought-provoking, exploring the relationship between the body and desire through the lens of food and fashion, and the eroticism that ties them together. She treads the line between beauty and ugliness, lust and disgust.

pink flesh splayed open—a foreplay that built the viewers’ anticipation for oral consumption. Minter’s subsequent paintings of actual porn, a commentary about the commodification of the female body, got her “kicked out” of the art world for a time. Today, no one would bat an eye, but back then the topic was just too risqué.

In 1990, pre-Internet/social media, she purchased 30-second commercial slots during David Letterman’s and Arsenio Hall’s late-night television programs to promote her one-woman show, 100 Food Porn. (Back then, at $1,800, the commercials were cheaper than a $5,000 ad in Artforum magazine.) Her dripping paintings explored the sexuality of preparing and handling food extracted from cooking magazine images—tightly cropped red manicured hands handling melons and oranges or coring a pepper; a lobster head being separated from its tail; a fish being filleted, its

In the time since, Minter has collaborated with the likes of Madonna, MAC Cosmetics, Supreme, and Tom Ford. Green Pink Caviar—an uncomfortably hypnotic video that consists of locked-off, tight shots of women from nose to chin licking, sucking, and spitting out various substances off the screen—was exhibited in the lobby of the Museum of

ORANGE CRUSH, 2009, COURTESY OF MARILYN MINTER AND SALON 94, NEW YORK

Modern Art in Manhattan for over a year, as well as on digital billboards in Times Square and on Sunset Boulevard in Los Angeles. Perhaps her most passionate partnership has been with Planned Parenthood, an organization she has been involved with for years. She helped put together a benefit auction in 2015 that included artwork from the likes of Cindy Sherman, Laurie Simmons, Richard Prince, Richard Serra, and Brice Marden, and raised more than $2 million. Earlier this year, she created images with pop star and LGBTQ supporter Miley Cyrus that were turned into prints as well as Marc Jacobs T-shirts.

to host a series of female-only art-world “Bad Bitches Parties,” which feature visually beautiful food catered by Chef Olivia Williamson.

Minter’s passion for food and feminism has also led her

brooklynmuseum.org and salon94.com

Starting this fall, a chance to fully experience Minter’s groundbreaking, boundary-pushing body of work will come in the form of Pretty/Dirty, a retrospective at the Brooklyn Museum. It’s the last major stop on a nationwide tour that has included the Contemporary Arts Museum Houston and the Museum of Contemporary Art Denver. We’re hoping there will be caviar.

DISHING

the

BEAUTY of RESTRAINT KAI AVENT-DELEON OF BROOKLYN’S SINCERELY, TOMMY AND S,T COFFEE by Anya Sacharow photos by Shanita Sims

One amazing thing about Kai Avent-deLeon is her talent for minimalism. On visiting her apartment in BedfordStuyvesant, Brooklyn, I wondered: Where does she keep her stuff? Avent-deLeon, the owner of a fashion boutique called Sincerely, Tommy, curates her home with neutraltoned modern furniture and artwork set against white walls and original Victorian-era woodwork. She pointed to a piece of pottery from a trip to Peru as her one recent acquisition.

that specialized in new designers. After stints managing operations for Chanel and the Canadian chain Aritzia, she was ready for her own thing. Bed-Stuy was the ideal location. Avent-deLeon has serious ties to this historic area, with its mix of 19th-century masonry row houses, bodegas, and a lot in between. She grew up here, and her grandmother, originally from Grenada, started investing in Bed-Stuy real estate in the 1980s. Avent-deLeon now watches the neighborhood morph around her. “It’s changing, but at the same time there’s still this homey, relaxed vibe, which is what I like,” she said.

“I’m very neat,” she said. “I’m not a stuff person. I actually encourage people not to get me things, because, unless they know me very well, I will most likely give it away.” A no-makeup natural beauty, Avent-deLeon moved lightly around her space, making herself a salad for lunch. Her aesthetic carries from her living quarters over to Sincerely, Tommy a few blocks away. The shop is all white walls, white marble, and exposed brick—a gallery where the clothes and accessories are the art. It’s the place you would go to find something you didn’t know you were in the market for—perhaps a Rejina Pyo color-block knit dress or Sophie Andes Gascon high-waisted gold shorts with a white string overlay. Or a Roshi Porkar off-the-shoulder dress made of a red pleather corseted top connected to a long, flowery skirt. The Austrian designer is one of AventdeLeon’s current favorites: “She reinvents herself every collection and is always so fresh.”

Stepping inside the store takes you to another world— Barneys reimagined as a space-age boutique for The Jetsons. To boost foot traffic, Avent-deLeon built a tiny café in the front of the shop with a coffee counter and a couple of worn-in Mies van der Rohe chairs. S,T Coffee, as it’s called, features a small menu of locally-sourced goods: coffee from Cafe Grumpy, bread from Saraghina, and pastries from Colson Patisserie. “I wanted the café to serve as this interactive part of the store where you could come, work, talk to the baristas,” she said. This works out well, because even if one can’t commit to something off the boutique’s racks, the Jamaican limeade is an easy sell. Avent-deLeon used to make batches of it herself, but between constant traveling and buying, her prep work had to be delegated to the café staff. This is not to say that she doesn’t like to cook. A lifelong vegan, Avent-deLeon said she inherited her love of restaurants and different cuisines from her father, and her cooking skills from her mother: “She recently got me hooked on black garlic, which now I have to put in everything.”

These choices underscore Avent-deLeon’s reputation as a tastemaker. She has the eye, and customers follow her gaze. “The fun process is discovering new brands,” she said. “I knew I’d have some very eccentric product.” Avent-deLeon had wanted her own store since the age of 16, when she started working at a Fort Greene boutique

Avent-deLeon said one of her favorite recipes to make is

a heart of palm cake, similar to a crab cake, but obviously without the crab. The recipe, while still vegan, is decadent fried-food delicious, which, to me, seems perfectly Kai. She is a minimalist who maximizes enjoyment of her home, fashion, and food—always luxuriating in what isn’t there.

VEGAN “CRAB” CAKES

WITH RÉMOULADE

Drain the hearts of palm and press in a towel to dry them. In a food processor, pulse gently until it looks like the consistency of crab meat. Place a small sauté pan on medium heat. Add 1 teaspoon of oil and heat for 30 seconds, being careful not to let it smoke. Sauté the onion and bell pepper until soft, 3 to 5 minutes. In a large bowl, combine the hearts of palm, onion, bell pepper, mayonnaise, 1 teaspoon Old Bay seasoning, nori flakes, nutritional yeast, arrowroot or cornstarch, salt, and pepper. Mix until incorporated. Cover and refrigerate for 30 minutes.

Makes 4 servings

The hearts of palm provide a “crabby” texture while the nori and Old Bay will remind you of a Maryland-style crab cake. RÉMOULADE 1 cup vegan mayonnaise 1 tablespoon ketchup 1 tablespoon Dijon mustard 1 teaspoon hot sauce 1 teaspoon vegan Worcestershire sauce 1 tablespoon freshly squeezed lemon juice ¼ teaspoon sea salt 2 teaspoons minced capers 2 teaspoons minced shallot 1 teaspoon minced fresh parsley 2 teaspoons minced red bell pepper ”CRAB CAKES” 1 sheet of nori or 2 teaspoons toasted nori flakes Two 14-ounce cans hearts of palm ½ cup canola oil, more if needed (alternative: reduce to ¼ cup oil if using a small sauté pan) ¼ cup finely diced red onion ¼ cup finely diced red bell pepper 3 tablespoons vegan mayonnaise 2 teaspoons Old Bay seasoning 1 tablespoon nutritional yeast flakes 2 teaspoons arrowroot or cornstarch Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste 1 cup panko bread crumbs

PREPARE THE RÉMOULADE: Place all the rémoulade ingredients in a food processor or blender and blend on high for 1 minute. Set aside or store, covered, in the refrigerator for up to 1 week. PREPARE THE CRAB CAKES: Toast the nori sheet by holding it with tongs and fanning it over a low gas flame or electric burner. Be careful not to let it burn. Turn the sheet frequently, so that it toasts evenly. Grind the nori using a spice or coffee grinder that you use exclusively for spices. Break the nori into pieces, place it in the grinder, and pulse until powdered. Alternatively, crumble it as finely as you can with your hands or pulverize with a mortar and pestle.

Use an ice cream scoop or a large tablespoon to portion into small cakes. Combine the bread crumbs with 1 teaspoon Old Bay seasoning. Coat the small cakes with bread crumbs. Form and let sit in the refrigerator for 1 hour or until firm. COOK THE CRAB CAKES: Place a sauté pan on mediumhigh heat. Add some canola oil and heat for 2 minutes. Working in batches, sauté the cakes (make certain that the oil comes about halfway up the sides of the cakes) until browned on both sides and heated through, 2 to 3 minutes on each side. Remove the cakes to a baking sheet lined with parchment and place in a warm oven (200°F) until you finish all the cakes. Place the cakes on a plate and garnish with the Rémoulade. From Crazy Sexy Kitchen: 150 Plant-Empowered Recipes to Ignite a Mouthwatering Revolution by Kris Carr with Chef Chad Sarno. Published by Hay House.

TOP: INSIDE S,T COFFEE. ABOVE AND AT LEFT: INSIDE

AVENT-DELEONâ&#x20AC;&#x2DC;S BOUTIQUE.

SUNDAY BEST THE UNLIKELY SUCCESS OF AMATEUR BAKER AND FASHION WORLD INSIDER CAROLINE LEBAR by Cary Leitzes portrait by Karl Lagerfeld

Simply put, Caroline Lebar is the epitome of Parisian chic. As she is the longtime director of communications and confidante of fashion designer Karl Lagerfeld, one would expect nothing less. But it’s her talent for baking that gives Lebar that special je ne sais quoi.

in the French countryside. I had never made tarts in my life, but the garden in this house had so many wonderful fruits, and one can only eat so much. One day, I bought the pastry shell, picked some fresh fruit from the garden, and made it happen. I swear, the tart was so beautiful—and my first ever! I was so proud that I posted a picture to Instagram and was quite surprised that I immediately started to receive comments. One of the comments came from my best friend. She was laughing because one of the blueberries was not perfectly positioned. She knows me and knows I’m quite manic. She wrote, “You missed a blueberry at the top right.” [Laughs]

I first met Lebar in March of last year while working with Karl Lagerfeld. I started following her on social media and discovered her passion for making beautiful tarts. What started as a hobby documented on Instagram (@carolinelebar) has become the subject of a best-selling cookbook in France called Une Tarte Pour Dimanche, or as we’d say in English, A Tart for Sunday. I sat down with Lebar in Paris recently to hear how she got her start, to learn why Instagram has become such an important source of inspiration, and to sample the sweet fruits of her labor.

I made another tart the following week, and I guarantee you the blueberries were perfect. I received more comments and decided that baking tarts was fun. I’m a girl from the fashion industry, and because of Karl I’m quite known for that. It’s funny to show another side. Since fashion is all about image, I’m also a marketer of sorts. So I said, “Okay, Instagram is cool, but it’s even better if you make an appointment [to post] every Sunday.” So I did, and that is how I got my start.

Bonjour, Caroline! Hi, Cary! Congratulations—I love the book! To start at the beginning, where did the idea come from? Did the project grow out of a love of cooking or a love of making tarts? I love to cook in general. Some years ago, I bought a house

How many years ago was that? That was two years ago!

If it weren’t for Instagram, do you think baking would have been a different experience? It would have been completely different. I would not have done the book. The project only came to be because of the digital story.

and she says, “It’s no good!” Each time! [Laughs] But her tarte Tatin is the most delicious on earth. Does she like your tarts? Yes, she does. She’s really sweet. My parents are really sweet. They’re the kind of parents that give you an A+ on anything you do. My self-confidence was built there.

That’s amazing. And how did the project grow? If it weren’t for Instagram, I would have waited until the next season to make tarts, when our trees grew more fruit. Instagram made me feel like I had an appointment or a deadline to deliver. First with people I knew, and then with people I didn’t. At the beginning, I only had 200 followers. Now I have over 3,200. This is only because of the tarts! It’s a funny contradiction. People expect you to be very snobbish when you work in fashion, and instead you get tarts. Taking something intimate, like cooking in your kitchen, and making it public shows another face, you know?

What’s your cooking style? I think I know the answer, but are you more measured or are you more experimental? Math or magic? I’m very measured. At the beginning, I was less. But now I know I have to write the recipe. With pastries, you can’t play around so much. When making a crème pâtissière, if you put 10 grams too much, you miss it. What about how each tart is designed? The display? That’s a total improvisation.

Going back to your Instagram followers and this idea of engagement, do you respond to the comments? How do you connect with your fans? I try to respond to everyone. When I have a nice comment, I always answer. And when I see people commenting quite often, I follow the profile. Instagram is an exchange. I think it’s people being nice to you, and you being nice to people. It’s nothing more. I’m sure of it. If you don’t give and show interest in others, you won’t get anything in return.

So that’s the art? The magic that accompanies the math of the recipe. Exactly. It is exactly that. Like playing French pool. Do you know what French pool is? I don’t. Educate me. French pool is pool, but without the holes. It’s Cartesian. The red and the yellow must touch the white. This is very artistic because there are many ways to do it. When you go into the space, you have to wear the right dress, you don’t smoke, you don’t speak loud. There are a lot of rules.

So your followers really fueled the project. Do you post religiously every Sunday? I do. Except if I’m not in my kitchen. I don’t cook in other kitchens.

I have my artistic side and my creative side—like when you and I collaborate. But at the end, you know me. And you know I’m a more mathematical person. This is the same story with my tarts.

Do you eat your tarts? Yes. My husband also—he put on five kilos! Which tart is his favorite? As long as I add almond cream, he’s happy.

What are you doing next? Another book? I want to translate the book into English next. I’m working with Marabout, the biggest publisher for cooking and educational books. When they approached me, I thought it was a joke! They published 8,000 copies first. Six weeks after, they had to reprint. They even did the press!

And yours? Which is your favorite? The latest. Well, it’s always the latest I did. My most recent was dedicated to Brazil. It’s a pineapple with grated lemon. The lemon rind? Yes, and it leaves a taste that is completely unexpected. With that I did a cream. I had to redo it several times because it didn’t work at the beginning. I put the cream on top with those slices and the rind. The taste makes you... [Smacks lips] It’s delicious. And really, super fresh! I also liked watching the faces of the people who tried it—they were so surprised at the taste.

How nice! For once, you can allow someone else to do the P.R. work. It’s a huge accomplishment—the book, the press, all of it! Yes, but I don’t see it in this way. It was not meant to be an accomplishment. It’s been a huge surprise for me and something that has been great fun. It all comes out of love. First, your love for your family, wanting to bake for them, and then the love of your followers, who encouraged you to keep baking on Sunday. For me, the love is really why I do the tarts, meaning my love for my husband. Each page is something that I’ve done for him.

Does Karl ever try your tarts? No, he would never! There’s too much sugar. Karl does not eat sugar.

I cannot imagine making a tart and having to put it in the garbage. It has to be my biggest pleasure seeing my friends or my husband eating and saying, “Ahh!” This really is the story of this book. What you see in the pages is not only my hobby, but the love that is behind it.

Do you ever cook with your mother? Yes, and my mother cooks very well. She’s more into salty things. She doesn’t do much sugar, but she does make tarte Tatin. Each time we ask her to make one, she comes

ORANGE CHOCOLATE TART This tart is a visual treat and a sophisticated pairing of flavors, with citrus segments atop an orange-and-vanilla-flavored cream and a secret layer of chocolate in between the cream and the crust. It’s a perfect project for citrus season. FOR THE DOUGH: 2 cups flour 5 tablespoons powdered sugar Pinch of salt 9 tablespoons butter, at room temperature and cut into small chunks 1 egg yolk 2½ tablespoons water In a large bowl, sift the flour then add the sugar and salt. Make a well and place the butter in the center. Combine everything with your fingertips until the mixture has the appearance of damp sand. Add the egg yolk and the water gradually. Knead until the dough is homogenous, but avoid working the dough for too long. It might melt the butter and render the dough too elastic. Form a ball, flatten, and cover with plastic wrap. Let the disk rest for 2 hours in the fridge so the dough becomes firm. FOR THE FILLING: 1 tablespoon and 1 teaspoon butter, divided 2 tablespoons brown sugar Pinch of salt Sprinkling of flour 5½ ounces dark chocolate 1¼ cups orange juice 1 teaspoon vanilla extract ½ cup sugar 2 tablespoons cornstarch, plus extra 1 egg 6 blood oranges 1 orange Preheat the oven to 350°F. Melt 1 tablespoon butter. Line your tart pan with parchment paper, brush with the melted butter, and dust with the brown sugar and the salt. On a floured surface, roll out the dough to a quarter of an inch. Carefully roll the dough onto the rolling pin and unroll it into the tart pan. Make sure the dough adheres well to the edges. Using a fork, slightly prick the crust in several locations throughout and

bake for 15 minutes, or until the dough has turned white. Remove from the oven and allow the crust to cool. Melt the dark chocolate in a double boiler. Using a spatula, spread the chocolate in an even layer on the bottom of the baked and cooled tart shell. In a saucepan, combine the orange juice, vanilla, sugar, cornstarch, and egg. Cook over low heat, stirring constantly, until the cream has thickened considerably. Add a little more cornstarch if necessary. When the cream is thick, remove from the heat, add the teaspoon of butter, and whisk until incorporated. Pour the orange cream on top of the chocolate in the tart shell, taking care not to mix the two. Bake for 15 to 20 minutes at 350°F and watch carefully. The cream must become matte and remain slightly jiggly when nudged. Remove from the oven and let cool. Next, you are going to “supreme” each piece of fruit. Take the first orange and with a knife, cut off a bit of the top and bottom. Then remove the rind and pith, following the curve of the fruit. With a small knife, carefully remove each segment from the membrane. Organize your orange segments by color so you can create a pretty gradient or ombre effect when you place the segments on the orange cream. When the tart is cool, arrange the fruit segments on the cream and refrigerate the tart for several hours. Serve very cold. From Une Tarte Pour Dimanche by Caroline Lebar. Published by Marabout.

BOOK REPORT

A MOTHER’S LEGACY THE JOURNEY BEHIND JOY SANTLOFER’S FOOD CITY by Lauren Salkeld

When food historian and New York University food studies professor Joy Santlofer passed away unexpectedly in 2013, she didn’t just leave behind grieving family and friends. For more than five years, Santlofer had been researching and writing Food City: Four Centuries of Food-Making in New York, a book that combined her love for the Big Apple with her passion for culinary history. The book is a sweeping account of New York’s food manufacturing past and present, from the early days of beer and bread making in the New Amsterdam colony to our current obsession with indie operations like Brooklyn Brine and Kings County Distillery. But Santlofer’s sure-to-be-influential book almost didn’t happen. While she’d turned in a draft before she died, the book needed restructuring, polishing, and photography.

nated rewards, Doria launched a Kickstarter and exceeded her goal, ultimately raising more than $32,000. Though it was an emotional and exhausting process, Doria considers herself lucky. “It was a way to keep my mother with me and to stay connected with her,” she said. “Plus, I was able to play a part in helping finish what was her life’s work.” Food City will be published in November by W. W. Norton & Company. Thanks to Santlofer’s exhaustive research, much of the history is told through the individual accounts of real people. “My mother found all these stories, really intimate stories, that bring to life what actual people were feeling and doing,” Doria said. “The way she uncovered the personal elements is so beautiful to me, and I know that was part of what was so exciting for her, too.”

Enter Doria Santlofer, Joy’s daughter and a fashion stylist (who’s worked on several Cherry Bombe covers). Doria saw Food City as her mother’s legacy, but she also knew it had the potential to impact culinary scholarship. “So many of these stories have never been told—it’s this amazing lost history,” Doria said. “There was just no question that we had to finish the book and we had to get it out there.”

Doria remembers her mother taking students on field trips to producers throughout the five boroughs and her deep involvement with the contemporary food scene. Calling the early 21st century “a golden age” in Food City, the author was thrilled to see New York return to its artisan roots. It brings to mind the old adage that history repeats itself, but it also means that for New York’s food community, the story continues.

With help from chefs, magazines, and food makers who do-

THE SEASON’S

BEST BOOKS by Lauren Salkeld

Cúrate

Flatiron Books

Deep Run Roots

Mozza at Home

Little, Brown and Company

When she’s not at one of her popular restaurants, the legendary Chef Nancy Silverton can often be found hosting a gathering on her patio in Los Angeles, or at her home on the Umbria-Tuscany border. Cooking a meal for family and friends is one of Silverton’s great joys, and this book is a celebration of those pleasures, as well as a guide to pulling it off in style. Silverton is a fan of buffets and family-style feasts so the recipes are organized into party-ready meals. Though there’s plenty of Italian fare, Silverton’s cooking winds around the world with stops in Mexico, France, India, and the Middle East. Desserts complete the collection, a nod to Silverton’s successful beginnings as a pastry chef.

“This book is the story of my life so far, told through the ingredients that fill the plates and pantries of my home: Deep Run, North Carolina,” writes Vivian Howard in her deeply personal cookbook. Howard wasn’t always so enamored with her hometown and spent years trying to escape it. Even after moving back and opening her restaurant, Chef & the Farmer, she continued to resist her roots. But then Howard started combining local traditions and ingredients with what she’d learned while cooking in New York and found her signature style. The book is a winding journey through Howard’s kitchen with dishes simple and elaborate, new and old, plus the kind of cooking wisdom that “you can’t pick up from Google.”

Knopf

Bookmarked recipes: Sal’s Roasted Pork Shoulder; Charred Broccolini with Salami and Burrata; Kale Freekah Tabbouleh; Pan-Roasted Radicchio with Balsamic Vinaigrette; Bittersweet Chocolate Tartufo with Olive Oil Croutons and Sea Salt

Bookmarked recipes: Apple and Scallion Oyster Ceviche; Creamed Collards with Pickled Collard Stems; Lillie’s Fried Cornbread; Sprouted Hoppin’ John Salad with Hot Bacon Vinaigrette; Sweet Potato Pie Ice Cream Sundae

Asheville, North Carolina, might not be the first place you’d seek out authentic Spanish tapas, but a glance at Chef Katie Button’s credentials will relieve you of any skepticism. A former engineering major at Cornell University, Button couldn’t ignore her passion for food, so she switched gears and earned her culinary stripes under Ferran Adrià and José Andrés. In her debut cookbook, Button marries traditional Spanish cooking with the bounty of the Blue Ridge Mountains. You’ll find recipes for standards such as Tortilla Española and Paella, but this is more than a review of the classics. Button makes the food she fell in love with both inviting and accessible. As Adrià writes in his foreword, it’s “a perfect introduction to Spanish cuisine in American homes.” Bookmarked recipes: Octopus with Olive Oil and Pimentón; Mushrooms Sautéed in Sherry; Fried Eggs Over Potato Chips and Serrano Ham; Clams and Chorizo in Cider; White Chocolate Saffron Roulade

Poole’s

Ten Speed Press

All Under Heaven Ten Speed Press

If anyone is qualified to write a book on contemporary Chinese cooking, it’s Carolyn Phillips. In the late 1970s and early ’80s, Phillips lived in Taipei, where many of China’s best chefs had fled following the Communist revolution. As she writes in her introduction, “there was no better place to be eating Chinese food.” What started as an interest developed into an “all-consuming obsession,” and Phillips spent the next few decades researching, cooking, and writing. In this comprehensive book, she examines the 35 cuisines of China, and shares more than 300 recipes, plus tips on ingredients, equipment, technique, and even how to dine as the Chinese do. Phillip’s own illustrations detail practical matters such as tossing ingredients in a wok, scoring fish, and wrapping wontons.

When she opened Poole’s Downtown Diner in Raleigh, North Carolina, in 2007, Chef Ashley Christensen wanted to create the kind of comfort she felt as a kid at dinnertime. Much of that feeling comes from the food, familiar Southern favorites, built on local ingredients and refined by classic technique. But it’s also a state of mind: Christensen doesn’t serve customers; she welcomes guests. Poole’s quickly took off, helping revive downtown Raleigh and turning Christensen into a star who now heads a flourishing restaurant empire. This cookbook features Poole’s specialties such as Pimento Cheese and Macaroni au Gratin, but it’s also a chance for Christensen to share her story and her passion, and a ton of thoughtful kitchen advice. Bookmarked recipes: Buttermilk Fried Chicken with Hot Honey; Pork Ribs with Mustard Sorghum Sauce; Warm Broccoli Salad with Cheddar and Bacon Vinaigrette; Toasted Coconut Cream Pie with Macadamia Nut Crust; AC’s Greyhound

Bookmarked recipes: Beijing-Style Smoked Chicken; Rock Sugar Pork Shank; Spicy and Numbing Cold Noodles; Fried Scallion and Flaky Flatbreads; Candied Kumquats

Stir, Sizzle, Bake Clarkson Potter

“Humankind has been cooking with cast iron for eons, well before there were cookbooks or even handwritten recipes,” writes Charlotte Druckman in this sweet and savory ode to the art of cast-iron baking. Both enduring and forgiving, cast iron is often associated with hearty, rustic fare, but the veteran food writer insists it need not be unsophisticated. Alongside cast-iron staples such as biscuits, cornbread, and cobbler, Druckman dishes up more globally inspired creations, such as Banana-Matcha Butter Mochi Cake, Sichuan Pepper-Scallion Flatbread, and Curried Pretzel Knots. And if you’re new to cast-iron cooking, Druckman covers essentials such as the secrets to seasoning and caring for your pan, and how to rescue a rusted flea market find. Bookmarked recipes: Blistered Pizza Naan; Lazy Cheese Arepas with Vegetable Slaw; Soccanata with Lamb, Olives, and Oregano; Rosemary–Olive Oil Brownies with Sea Salt; Cornflakes-n-Milk Cake

EYE CANDY

THE FEAST YOUR EYES ISSUE FEATURING: Padma Lakshmi Sarah Illenberger Leah Chase Robin Standefer

EVIL EYE CANDY BY SWEET SABA. PHOTO BY CLAUDIA WU.

Catherine Losing Andrea Gentl Diana Yen Molly Yeh Annabel Mehran

HUNGRY

for

MORE PADMA LAKSHMIâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;S APPETITE FOR LIFE by Kerry Diamond photos by Jennifer Livingston

ON JENNI: TOP BY

TRADEMARK. ON LENA: DRESS BY

TRADEMARK; HEADPIECE BY PIERS ATKINSON. HAIR BY RHEANNE WHITE; MAKEUP BY MATIN; NAILS BY ELLE; STYLING BY DORIA SANTLOFER; FOOD STYLING BY MICHELLE GATTON; FOOD STYLING ASSISTANT LAUREN LAPENNA; STYLING ASSISTANT MARCELO GAIA.

Padma Lakshmi, the food world’s leading feminist? It’s not a role normally attributed to the glamorous Top Chef star. But over the past several years, Lakshmi has been using her platform to talk about women-centric issues other high profile foodies wouldn’t touch.

As she reveals in the memoir, her parents split up when she was a toddler, at a time when divorce was considered shameful in India, so her mother left her only child with relatives and immigrated to New York City for a fresh start. When young Padma joined her a few years later, she adapted to life in Queens as a latchkey kid with a single mom. The book also details the car accident that almost killed teenage Padma and left her with the seven-inch scar she wears today as a badge of honor. And, of course, there’s the rise and fall of her relationship with Rushdie. Amazingly, all of this happens before the memoir is half over. As Christine Hauser wrote in The New York Times, “The book appears to spare little.” Or as Beau Ciolino of the blog Probably This put it: “Hold onto your horses… cause it’s all in there, raw truth, some real shit.”

Body image. Gender equality. The right to choose. Infertility. Single motherhood. Post-partum depression. Breastfeeding. She went on CNN to condemn the gang rape and murder of a student in New Delhi. She revealed her childhood sexual abuse so other victims would know they’re not alone. She was an ambassador for UN Women. She traveled to Guatemala this past summer in support of indigenous Mayan women on behalf of the advocacy group Mercado Global. And she co-founded the Endometriosis Foundation of America to shed light on a debilitating disease that affects millions of women of childbearing age.

Love, Loss, and What We Ate almost didn’t happen. Ecco, the HarperCollins imprint, gave Lakshmi a deal to write a diet book of sorts, not a memoir. Because of her role on Top Chef, she’s constantly asked about gaining and losing weight, so she wanted to produce a thoughtful book on the topic. She started writing, but it didn’t feel genuine. “I kept turning in pages, but I told the publisher, ‘I’m talking in circles. I don’t know what I’m trying to say.’” Lakshmi even offered to return her advance. After a frustrating year and a half, she killed the project.

“She may be gorgeous. She may be a brilliant chef. But her life’s mission is as a healer and a sister,” said Lena Dunham, who, like Lakshmi, has endometriosis. “Padma is a tireless worker for every woman who has suffered with this disease—and for every woman who suffers in silence.” It took some time for Lakshmi to find her voice. “In Asian cultures, to be discreet and reserved is a virtue,” she explained one afternoon, barefoot and bare faced, sitting in her Manhattan office, located next door to her apartment. “That was drilled into me. So to open my mouth in such a big way took a long time. I realized that I wanted to shape an outward identity that matched how I always felt inside.”

Still, she was determined to tell her story. A major impetus for writing the book was her endometriosis diagnosis and how it changed her life. A disease of the reproductive system, endometriosis causes uterine tissue to grow in other parts of the body, wreaking havoc on internal organs and causing a great deal of pain, both physical and emotional. For 23 years, Lakshmi suffered through nightmarish menstrual cycles. “I saw other girls who would take two Advil and complain about their periods and be done with it in three or four days. I was in bed at least three or four days! And with Vicodin!” As she told Lenny Letter last year, “I made sure my prescriptions were filled. I would live on hot tea and heating pads and hot-water bottles. I tried acupuncture. I would smoke pot. I would do anything and everything...”

To speak up for others, Lakshmi needed to speak up for herself first, which meant owning her story. The result is Love, Loss, and What We Ate, her bestselling memoir, published earlier this spring. It’s evocative, emotional, and heartbreaking in ways both beautiful and sad—the word “loss” is in the title for a reason. “I knew the only way to write a good book was to write a true book,” she said. You could say Lakshmi lost control of her narrative years ago when she became part of a celebrity couple. She had started dating Salman Rushdie, the controversial literary lion 23 years her senior, and tabloids around the world pounced. Lakshmi, a model who had broken boundaries for other brown-skinned women, and had a budding career in food, was reduced to arm candy. “The basic tagline was that I must not have a brain,” she said.

The disease affected her mood, her mental health, and her sex life. “It was really a major factor in the demise of my marriage,” she said. “Endometriosis fucks with you in a big way. It’s very destructive.” Lakshmi met Dr. Tamer Seckin, a gynecologist who specializes in the treatment of endometriosis, and she underwent multiple surgeries, including the removal of her right fallopian tube and half her left ovary. (There is no cure for endometriosis, but surgery can lessen the severity of the symptoms.) As endometriosis is a leading cause of infertility and she was nearing 40, Lakshmi made a decision. “I froze my eggs,” she wrote in her book. “Just as insurance. I wished someone had told me [to do] that a decade earlier.”

Things started to change when she was hired for the second season of Top Chef. The show helped Lakshmi gain an identity independent of her husband, but it made her famous without revealing very much about her. The reality show, after all, is not about Lakshmi, or her co-stars Tom Colicchio and Gail Simmons—it’s about the contestants. Anthony Bourdain referenced this in his blurb on the back of her book: “Love, Loss, and What We Ate is the Padma we didn’t know.”

In April 2009, at Dr. Seckin’s suggestion, they launched the Endometriosis Foundation of America (EFA), a not-forprofit dedicated to building awareness among doctors and

Lakshmi’s life story is so dramatic it could be a soap opera.

HAIR BY ANTONIO DIAZ; MAKEUP BY CHRISTIAN MCCULLOCH; NAILS BY NATALIE PAVLOSKI; STYLING BY MICHELLE JANK; FOOD STYLING BY MICHELLE GATTON; PROP STYLING BY NANSE KAWASHIMA; STYLING ASSISTANT JESSICA ROBERTS; FOOD STYLING ASSISTANT LAUREN LAPENNA. SPECIAL THANKS TO BALDOR SPECIALTY FOODS. THIS PAGE: JACKET BY HELMUT LANG; BRA BY BORDELLE.

the general public, advocating for those with the disease, and raising funds for research. Lakshmi hosts the annual Blossom Ball, the EFA’s main charity event (Dunham and Susan Sarandon were this year’s honorees), and she speaks about the disease whenever she can. It’s estimated that 176 million women around the world have endometriosis and if you follow Lakshmi on social media, you’ll come across several of her #endosisters expressing gratitude for her activism. Their comments often mention their infertility and their comfort in knowing they are not alone—or crazy. “I had endometriosis for 30 years. Never had children. I had a hysterectomy last year and the doctor said it was the worst he had seen. Thank you for being a voice to this disease,” wrote a woman named Amy W on Instagram. “Been a tough year on the fertility front and that dream has faded but relieved there was a reason,” added @Allicar1.

bites of gourmet grub, Lakshmi still enjoys being part of the show. Working in a new city each season keeps it fresh for her, she noted. Season 14, which begins soon, was filmed in Charleston, South Carolina, so she learned about low country cuisine and the region’s rich culinary history from local experts and chefs. “I would never get to go that deep as a tourist,” she said. “I don’t know how much of that specificity reads to the viewer, but for those of us who do the show, it’s so helpful.” The revolving batch of contestants also breathes new life into the series. Unlike other food reality shows, Top Chef creates culinary superstars and Lakshmi is part of the team that susses out which newcomers are destined for greatness. Season 10 winner Kristen Kish found Lakshmi to be a reassuring presence behind the scenes. “Padma was the first on-camera person we saw day one and each day after,” explained Kish. “The mornings in the kitchen before we started filming were always a nerve-wracking time, but she would toss in some jokes and tell us about the daily news and happenings from the outside world. She genuinely was aware of how we were feeling and did her part to make us comfortable before the cameras started rolling.”

A few months after launching EFA, Lakshmi was shocked and thrilled to learn she was pregnant. Later that winter, she gave birth to a baby girl named Krishna and declined to reveal the identity of the father. As she detailed in her memoir, she was dating two men at the time, and wasn’t sure who was the dad. It sounds like the plot of the recent Bridget Jones’s movie, except in Lakshmi’s case, it was neither fictional nor funny. A nasty custody case ensued with venture capitalist Adam Dell. In the midst of the legal battle, the other man, financier and philanthropist Teddy Forstmann, was diagnosed with advanced brain cancer and lived for only seven months. Lakshmi dedicated her memoir to Forstmann and has called him “her rock.” When she talks about him today, five years later, it’s evident there’s a big hole in her heart.

“THE BASIC TAGLINE WAS THAT I MUST NOT HAVE A BRAIN.“

The two bonded and remain friends to this day. “As I’ve gotten to know more about her in the past few years, Padma is an incredibly wonderful complex soul,” said Kish. “She has offered advice, an ear to listen, she never pries, and she’s always kind. She’s a person who will remain very important in my life.”

When Lakshmi sat down for this interview, she had just returned from Mexico, where the Top Chef finale had been filmed. For obvious reasons, she couldn’t talk about the show, so she was buzzing about her food finds and the similarities between Indian and Mexican cuisines. “The climates are alike, so a lot of ingredients are the same,” she said. “The cumin, the citrus, the chilies. I brought back all of these spice blends.” Anyone who knows Lakshmi knows spices are an obsession. She channeled this passion into her second book of the year, the recently released Encyclopedia of Spices & Herbs, an alphabetical compendium of everything from achiote (the Mexican name for annatto, a seed used mainly as a coloring agent) to zhug (a Middle Eastern hot sauce). To compile the exhaustive information, she worked with writer and editor Judith Sutton and the team at Kalustyan’s, Manhattan’s beloved spice mecca. She hopes the book has a long life as a reference guide for professionals and home cooks alike.

But Krishna, her beautiful surprise, has brought much joy to her life. She’s a lively little girl with a gift for music and a fondness for Taylor Swift and Katy Perry. Like her mother before her, Lakshmi is a single mom doing her best to raise a young child, albeit under very different circumstances. Her mother’s example, she said, “colors a lot of my parental thinking. I am a single mother, but I don’t feel alone in raising my daughter.” A full-time nanny (and former paratrooper) lives with her and Krishna, as do some relatives from India. And Lakshmi is now on good terms with Krishna’s father. “For whatever problems he and I have been through, he is a good dad,” she said. “I wish I had a father like him when I was younger. He’s attentive. He’s naturally interested. He is the kind of person I really realize was born to be a dad.” And then there’s the other great love of her life, Top Chef. Yes, after 13 seasons of delivering her chilly catch phrase— “Please pack your knives and go”—and tasting countless

Somehow, Lakshmi also finds time to tend to her fledgling frozen food business, Padma’s Easy Exotic. Today, you can

BODYSUIT BY JOURNELLE.

find her Organic Brown Rice, Madras Lemon Rice, Curried Lentils and other side dishes everywhere from local health food stores to Whole Foods Market. “Rice is something I know very well and I feel like I have something to contribute in this space,” she explained. “I know there’s no better product than mine in the market.” She even spends time at the rice factory in Little Rock, Arkansas, hairnet in place, to see the production process first hand. “I’m very detail focused, even though it sometimes gets the best of me,” she admitted. “If I can make something better, I want to. If I can’t see a way to better it, I leave it alone. I’m hard wired that way.”

by dropping a loose kernel of corn into it—if the oil sizzles and tiny bubbles form around the kernel, the oil is ready), gently fry the patties, turning them over to brown on each side. Do not crowd the pan, and use 2 spatulas to turn so the patties don’t fall apart. Be mindful of oil splatters, or use a splatter screen. Lay the fried patties on a few paper towels to absorb the excess oil. Serve hot, with the mint chutney on the side. MINT CHUTNEY

Makes about 3 cups

2½ cups fresh mint leaves 1 serrano or Thai chile 2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice ½ teaspoon sugar ¼ teaspoon salt

What’s next for Lakshmi? She wants to write more and spend fewer hours in hair and makeup. “I look forward to the day I can make a lucrative income without my likeness, in whatever shape that takes form,” she said. “And you know what else?” she asked, about to do the sisterhood one more solid. “I’ve decided I’m not going to wear a bra as often.”

Combine all ingredients in a blender. If needed, add 1 or 2 tablespoons of water to help blend together. Pack the sauce in a jar, cover with a lid, and store in the refrigerator. The chutney will keep for 2 to 3 days. From Tangy, Tart, Hot, & Sweet: A World of Recipes for Every Day by Padma Lakshmi. Published by Weinstein Books.

KERALAN CRAB CAKES

WITH MINT CHUTNEY

Makes 6 servings

CHICKPEA AND SPINACH TAPAS

Makes 4 servings

Kerala is a state in southwest India known as the “Land of Spices,” a nickname taken to heart when it comes to the food of the region. If you’ve only had crab cakes lightly seasoned and held together with breadcrumbs, these flavorful patties will be a revelation. Don’t skip the mint chutney.

This colorful dish can be served as a salad, as a topping for toasted bread, or as a filling for pita pockets. It also pairs nicely as a side dish with Padma’s crab cakes.

1 pound crab meat, shredded ½ cup dry bread crumbs ½ cup flour 8 serrano chilies, deseeded and minced 1 cup chopped chives 1 cup shredded unsweetened coconut ½ cup shredded carrot ½ cup finely diced celery 1 teaspoon amchoor dried mango powder (optional) 1 cup sweet corn, fresh, canned, or frozen 1 large egg, beaten 1 teaspoon salt 2 cups (approximately) canola oil ¼ cup milk

10 ounces fresh spinach leaves, rinsed, or one 10-ounce package frozen leaf spinach 2 cups chickpeas, drained and rinsed, or one 15-ounce can 1 red bell pepper, finely diced 1 tablespoon chopped fresh chives ¼ cup lemon juice ¼ cup olive oil ½ teaspoon salt Freshly ground black pepper If you are using fresh spinach, cook it over medium-low heat in a saucepan with the water clinging to its leaves, stirring until wilted. Drain, squeeze dry, and finely chop. If using frozen spinach, follow the package directions, then drain, squeeze dry, and finely chop.

Combine all the ingredients in a mixing bowl except for the oil and milk. Add the milk a bit at a time; you may need a bit more or less than the quarter cup to help the ingredients form a thick cohesive mixture.

In a bowl, combine the spinach with the chickpeas, pepper, chives, lemon juice, oil, salt, and pepper. Taste for seasoning, adjust, and serve.

Form patties that are 3 inches in diameter and about 1 inch thick. Fill a deep skillet with about a half inch of oil and turn the heat to medium. Once the oil is hot and shimmering (test for readiness

From Easy Exotic: A Model’s Low-Fat Recipes from Around the World by Padma Lakshmi. Published by Miramax.

APRON BY SALT HOUSE.

BRAIN FOOD INSIDE THE MIND OF ARTIST SARAH ILLENBERGER story by Charlotte Cowles portrait by Tim Bruening

On a cobblestone street in Portugal last summer, you might have seen a slender woman with thick, dark hair poking intently through lemons at an outdoor market. After squeezing mangoes and squinting at bananas, she’d ultimately purchase one gleaming fish, take it back to the house where she was staying, and lay it on the grass in the garden. Then she’d pluck a branch from a nearby plant and begin to laugh. “When I’m really in the flow, developing ideas, I giggle a lot,” said German artist Sarah Illenberger. “I was just playing around with the fish, placing leaves where the skeleton would be, and I kept chuckling to myself.” (The result of this particular experiment, The Fish, is a striking photograph of a fern emerging from the creature’s silver head, resembling a vibrant fossil.) Illenberger’s clever, colorful images often show fruit, vegetables, raw meat, and other foodstuffs with unexpected twists—a carrot protruding from a lipstick tube, for example, or an avocado with a pit made of crystal. They’re playful, but they stop short of cute: In Meloncholie, a watermelon weeps seeds, and in Granate, a bomb apparatus sticks out of a ripe pomegranate. “Food is a great medium for wordplay because it’s so recognizable,” said Illenberger, who was raised in Munich and now lives in Berlin with her 4-yearold daughter, Roberta. “The more obvious a material is, the better it works as a symbol for something else.” An alumna of Central Saint Martins in London, Illenberger has gained an international following for her graphic illustrations, which appear regularly in Time and The New York Times Magazine. Meanwhile, she’s expanding her three-dimensional repertoire and recently sculpted minilandscapes of sun-bleached hay for Hermès’s window installations—inspired, she explained, by a straw bunny that she found during a trip to Japan. I spoke to her over Skype about grocery aisle treasures, awkward childhood birthday parties, and the importance of playing with food. Did your parents allow you to wreak havoc in the kitchen as child? My dad gave me a lot of freedom in his restaurant. He ran a café next door to my mom’s jewelry store in Munich—they were side by side, like a mini concept shop, so you could get a coffee and shop for a bracelet. At one point, I got in trouble because the hygienic department came to check if my dad’s kitchen was up to their standards. It wasn’t, obviously, because I had weird mixes of ingredients in ice cube trays sitting out on the counter. The menu was mostly French—croissants and crepes, that sort of thing. There were marble bistro tables, and those really wonderful pressurized metal bottles that you press and whipped cream comes out, like an explosion. Then, when I was about 7, my dad opened another restaurant, where he also served sushi, so I learned how to make sushi rolls. Aside from food cubes and sushi rolls—which were brilliant, I’m sure—what were your earliest artworks like? My mom runs a jewelry line called Sévigné, and she had

ABOVE: THE FISH. AT LEFT, TOP: COCO FROM THE TUTTI FRUTTI SERIES. AT LEFT, BOTTOM: TORTE FROM THE DÖNER KEBAP & OTHER STORIES SERIES.

then what next? I didn’t really plan to become an illustrator, but it just seemed like the best combination of things that interested me. After I graduated, I went back to Munich and got a job at a magazine called Neon. I didn’t really have a defined position; I came up with visual ideas for each issue. And that was great training, to understand things from an editorial perspective—to see a cover, and the storytelling, how illustrations speak to an audience, and how to simplify complex matters with text. I was there for five years, and then I moved to Berlin to set up my own studio.

a workshop in a little beach house in Greece, where we’d spend the summer. I’d collect shells and make collages with Greek cigar boxes. Then I would sell them to the fishermen down at the port to make money to buy fish for the next day. My parents encouraged that, and starting when I was 10, they made a rule that when I was invited to other children’s birthdays, I had to make gifts—they’d refuse to give me money to buy a present. At first I was so embarrassed, because it seemed uncool not to give my friends a Mickey Mouse pullover or whatever. But then my friends really loved the things I made for them, and it became a ritual to not go the consumer route. Now it’s like, “I’m really sorry I just bought you something.”

What made you choose to move to Berlin? There’s an expression in German that means a place is in development, and if you go there, you’re able to shape it— and Berlin is like that. Creatively, it really came together in the last 10 years, and it’s a very open city, international and metropolitan. I was able to get a beautiful studio for not much money, and looking out the window, you could see Portuguese artists on the next floor and Spanish people across the street. There’s not such a class difference—as a creative, you’re really well respected. It’s not about how much money you earn and how big your car is.

A lot of your work is really funny, in a sly way. Where does your sense of humor come from? The simple answer is that I think it runs in my blood— my father is extremely funny. But otherwise, studying at Central Saint Martins taught me to find amusement and irony in everyday life. London is a really strange place to me, totally opposite from my perspective as a German, and being there taught me to observe things more closely than I would in Munich. I still do a lot of traveling to maintain that fresh look on things. I was also really influenced by British artists, like Martin Parr, and their sense of wit made me realize that humor can be the most impactful way of expressing an idea, even if it’s quite serious.

What kind of independent projects are you working on? I took these waste bins and plated them in gold. I like playing around with the familiar, using common and cheap materials that you can find at the grocery store, and giving them a new value. I love merging two contrary worlds.

You studied illustration at Central Saint Martins—and

Fruits and vegetables show up a lot in your work— particularly your Tutti Frutti photo series from a few years ago. What prompted that? I started Tutti Frutti in 2012, when I was down in Italy— we have a house there, with a garden—and I was looking around the markets a lot. I find the patterns and colors of fruits and vegetables super intriguing, especially since they’re hard to repeat, like the yellow tone of a lemon and the surface of a papaya. How the seeds squished inside a pomegranate look when you slice it open, or how beetroot can be cut to look like a ruby. The wonder of nature is that you can’t control it, and it comes as it comes, and that creates a sort of suspense—especially when you combine it with graphic imagery, like shoelaces on a banana. I love the beauty of the banal. Can you name some artists who influence you today? My dad’s best friend, Günter Mattei, is a very well-known illustrator—he’s in his 60s now— and he had his studio on the corner of our street when I was little. He did all the menu cards for my dad’s restaurant, and the logo. We’re still close friends. I’m actually thinking about doing a book about his work, because he’s been an important mentor in my career. He himself is very inspired by the Push Pin movement, with designers like Seymour Chwast and Milton Glaser, and that impacted me a lot as well.

it’s a mix of showroom and home. Your work also lends itself to being shareable on social media. Is it weird to see your images popping up around the Internet? I love using Instagram as a daily exercise, to keep my brain busy with ideas. You can always post something and get feedback; otherwise, it would just stay in a sketchbook as a little thought. As for other people reposting my work on Pinterest and places like that, it obviously leads to the fact that one is copied much more now than one used to be. People lose the source of certain images, and think, “Ah, I don’t know who it’s by, so might as well use it for my new advertising campaign.” I’ve had a lot of issues recently trying to stop that process, and it takes up time. It’s hard, and it’s quite tragic that people think it’s all at their disposal. That’s the downside, definitely.

“THE WONDER OF NATURE IS THAT YOU CAN’T CONTROL IT.“

Are you a chef in your personal life? Do you cook often? Not as much as I would like to be. I mostly make salads, which sounds a bit sad. I love baking cakes. When I was in my teens, I went to the public library and found this fantastic book by a baker who made sculptural cakes—like a cake in the shape of a boxing glove or a camera. And I got so into it that I baked every single recipe in there. My first big magazine story was rebaking the accessories of the season. I made a Dolce & Gabbana boot, and a little Dior hat, and a Cartier necklace with gold and silver beads. I don’t bake much anymore, though. I find that it either tastes good or it looks good, and it’s so hard to achieve both.

Do you yourself find inspiration on social media? Absolutely. Pinterest is such a nice window to artwork from all over the world. It’s great having all these eyes out there, sourcing images and looking at things. And sometimes it’s hard to not copy something subconsciously. It’s tricky when your brain wants to move toward things you’ve seen, but you can’t put your finger on where you saw it or what it was. To prevent that, I often show my ideas to other people and say, “Have you seen anything like that before?” Or just Google it, even. Put in some keywords and see if something comes up.

Have you ever been surprised to hear stories about your artwork being given as a gift by someone else? Yes, a friend of mine gave one of my Soft Heart editions [a photograph of a heart made of knit wool, like a mitten] to the surgeon who operated on her son when he was born. Other friends have given prints to people for love, or for remedy—my work is very symbolic, so it lends itself well to that. What kind of art do you like to live with? Art that tells a story. I like going to places and meeting somebody and swapping a photograph or a piece. Artwork has to be a little bit like the stepping stones of life, little memories of where you were during certain periods, and people you met, and things that mattered to you at that point. I’m not super attached to my own work; I love to give it to people, and knowing that they have it. I’ve given my daughter pieces of my work over time, and it’s nice to imagine her as an adult with 20 artworks from her mother.

What does your home look like, the space you create for yourself? I’m in a transitional period of my life right now. I’m going through a separation, so I’ve just moved and I’m looking for a new place. At the moment, I dream of space, and I have a list of a million ideas for it—like, I want to buy benches from old fitness clubs to sit on. And casting tables inspired by the Ming dynasty. I want to do my own carpet collection, and I want to make special mirrors. In my mind,

CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT: HEAVY WEIGHT,

HOLZBROT, DÃ&#x2013;NER KEBAP, PEA, AND CAP

MAMA TASTE BOW DOWN: A CHAT WITH THE LEGENDARY CHEF LEAH CHASE by Klancy Miller photos by Gabrielle Geiselman-Milone

There’s much to behold and relish in Beyoncé’s visual album, Lemonade. Bey jumping (flying?) from a building; Bey bashing car windows with her bat (named Hot Sauce) while wearing a bouncy yellow dress; Bey dancing; Serena Williams twerking; Bey in an immense antebellum plantation house; the twins from the group Ibeyi gathering vegetables from a garden; women preparing a meal together. The images are splendid, as is the poetry of Warsan Shire recited throughout. But the frame that thrilled me the most was that of an exquisitely regal Leah Chase.

When I called to ask how her cameo came about, the chef laughed. A friend of hers, who calls her Mama Taste and knew of the film project, said to her: “Mama Taste, she’s got to put you in that movie.” When I asked if she’d seen the whole video, she said no. “They showed me my little part in there. I understand it’s a nice message.” She went on to say, “I always hope they succeed in what they do. If it sends a good message, that’s good. I hope it works out well for her.” The Queen of Creole Cuisine, as she is known, gave Queen Bey some fashion advice when they met: Wear more clothes.

Leah Chase is the executive chef and co-owner of Dooky Chase’s Restaurant in New Orleans, which has been in business for 75 years and is widely considered one of the city’s landmarks. Chef Chase is also an author, an art collector, and an icon. At 93 years old, she has won countless honors for her culinary contributions and activism, and she still cooks in her restaurant to this day. I had to give Bey props for putting Chef Chase in her film.

Leah Chase is legendary. Beyond learning about her guest appearance, I wanted to know how she launched her extraordinary career. We spoke on the phone for more than an hour, and it reminded me of talking with a favorite cousin or a friend at church—there’s a familiarity and a warmth. She’s energetic and present and generous with her recollections and the advice she shares. She's lived

When I asked how Dooky Chase’s became one of the only public places in New Orleans where people of different races could meet, eat, and strategize for the local Civil Rights Movement, she explained: “Nobody else served black people at that time. We were never bothered by the police, even when we were serving whites and blacks. It was illegal to do that. You were not supposed to serve white people and black people, but we did it. At that time, we had only white policemen. My mother-in-law was so kind… and the policemen on the beat in her neighborhood, she would make them sandwiches. They would not do anything to harm her.”

“I CREDIT ALL OF THEM WITH CHANGING THE COURSE OF AMERICA OVER A BOWL OF GUMBO.“

It was thrilling to hear Chef Chase talk about the people she’s fed over the years, especially during the Civil Rights Movement. She mentioned the Freedom Riders, the brave activists who challenged segregation throughout the South in 1961. Among the many participants who organized at Dooky Chase’s were Oretha Castle Haley, Doratha Dodie Smith-Simmons, and Rudy Lombard. At the time, Castle Haley was part of the Congress of Racial Equality (CORE), a group that helped organize the Freedom Rides, voter registrations, sit-ins, and the 1963 March on Washington. Of Castle Haley, Chef Chase said: “She would bring everyone here—[people such as author] James Baldwin. My job was to feed them, so I fed them gumbo and fried chicken. That’s how we did things. We worked and helped them out, doing everything we could do.

through so much, but when she talks about sad events, she doesn’t sound sorrowful. In conversation as in life, she just keeps going. Chef Chase explained that she was one of 14 children raised in Madisonville, Louisiana. She moved to New Orleans to attend school. “My daddy wanted us in Catholic schools,” she said. “There were no Catholic schools for blacks in Madisonville. I was 16 years old when I graduated and had to get a job to help the others go to school.”

“I credit all of them with changing the course of America over a bowl of gumbo,” she continued. “They planned what they had to do and went out and did it. It made a difference. We were able to go through doors after that.”

For Chef Chase’s first job, she “went to work in white people’s houses.” The first eatery she ever worked in was the Colonial Restaurant in the French Quarter of New Orleans. Before that, she had never even been in a restaurant. “It was a beautiful experience,” she said. “I saw food being served and cooked. I still love cooking for people.”

The gumbo that fueled a movement remains her signature dish today. When I asked what first-timers should try at Dooky Chase’s, the answer was gumbo. “I don’t care what you eat, you start with gumbo,” Chef Chase said. But there’s also Red Fish Orleans with crabmeat served over eggplant rice; Shrimp Clemenceau with potatoes, mushrooms, and peas in a lemon-butter sauce; Praline Pudding; and much more. “Creoles are big on stuffing things. Some of the big restaurants, they knew nothing of the jambalayas. Now everybody serves everything. It started right in this restaurant.”

When Chef Chase met her husband, Edgar “Dooky” Chase Jr., he was the leader of the Dooky Chase Orchestra. The Dooky Chase restaurant belonged to his parents, her future in-laws; it began as a spot specializing in lottery tickets and New Orleans’ signature po-boy sandwiches. Her father-in-law was “a numbers runner” in poor health. When he couldn’t work any longer, his wife “opened a sandwich shop and sold the numbers there,” said the chef. “In 1941, she opened up a restaurant. She had no knowledge of the business. She borrowed $600 from a brewery [to get started]. She just did what she had to do. She knew how to get the bottom line.”

Dooky Chase’s is a family affair. Chef Chase and her husband have four children and 16 grandchildren. Her grandson, Edgar Chase IV, runs the Dooky Chase’s located in Louis Armstrong New Orleans International Airport, and her daughter, Stella Reese, heads up the flagship restaurant on Orleans Avenue.

Young Leah encouraged her mother-in-law to make some changes, inspired by her observations while working in the city’s restaurants, where only white people were served. “I told her, ‘We have to do what I see they do on the other side.’ When integration came, I saw no reason to move. You can’t change who you are if you’re going to stay in this business. We’ve been in business 75 years.”

Chef Chase turned 93 on January 6th of this year. She has every right to retire, but that is not part of her master plan; she insists that she will continue to cook and be a vibrant part of her community. “Learn what you can learn and keep living. It’s been a good life. I’ve been blessed.”

INTERIOR LIFE MEET ONE OF THE MOST INFLUENTIAL TALENTS IN THE WORLD OF RESTAURANT DESIGN, ROBIN STANDEFER OF ROMAN AND WILLIAMS by Charlotte Druckman

“I turned 50, and that’s a big deal for a woman. It’s intense. And I did something really special. I had a massive 50th birthday party, which, you know, women don’t generally do,” said Robin Standefer, her arm slung around a low banquette covered in watery-blue French mohair. She’s responsible for the fabric and pitch of this comfortable seat, which has the come-hither appeal of a chaise longue and the simplicity and shape suited to a restaurant dining room, specifically that of Manhattan’s restaurant of the moment, Le Coucou, which she and her husband, architect Stephen Alesch, designed.

dence of what she describes as “a kind of an intensity,” a “competitive, hearty” energy. “From a business point of view, people think of me as a killer,” she said. “And I still laugh because I am as mushy as they come, but in business I have no interest in being undermined, especially [regarding] my perspective and point of view. I want to be able to express that. And I wanted to be able to express that with a sense of permanence that affected people.” Anyone who has walked into a Roman and Williams space can attest to its impact. There is the swagger befitting a 21st-century pub, displayed at Chef April Bloomfield and her business partner Ken Friedman’s The Breslin; the handsome polish of an American brasserie at André Balazs’s The Standard Grill, or Justin Smillie and Stephen Starr’s Californiaand Italy-influenced Upland; the capacious, tavernlike comfort of Andrew Carmellini’s The Dutch, or his Franco-New Yorkaise Lafayette. And those are only some of Roman and Williams’s projects, in Manhattan alone. She recognizes what the sweep of this work represents. “In the last 10 years,” she said, “Stephen and I have designed some of the most successful restaurants that embrace good food with a casual environment.”

“I was like, listen, men do it, and I’m supposed to pretend I’m not 50?” asked Standefer, who, with her husband, founded the powerhouse firm Roman and Williams Buildings and Interiors. “I’m 50, and I love it.” To celebrate her milestone, she gathered 30 people in her home for a sumptuous, cinematic feast. The evening was an unapologetic celebration of beauty. “It was an exceptional moment for me, of embracing my own confidence, and really, a certain reticent femininity—not that I hadn’t embraced it before, but I’ve made a little living competing with men.” What she’s implying, she went on to explain, is that in a male-dominated field, she has been conscious of what it means to be a woman, but it has never given her pause when going after a project or achieving a goal.

Her awareness that they did “kind of initiate a movement” arrived in hindsight. “You don’t set out to do that; you’re just doing the shit you love,” She hasn’t allowed her said Standefer. She meant TOP OF THE STANDARD AT THE STANDARD, HIGH LINE, MANHATTAN. PHOTO BY ERIC LAIGNEL. gender to hold her back to work in the art world since she first—as a child— and studied accordingly. noticed that “women always seemed to be subordinate and Then her friend, filmmaker Larry Blume (the son of auplay second fiddle… The lion’s share of women really just thor Judy Blume), asked if she would art-direct a short didn’t have a voice.” Standefer found her voice at 10 years film he was developing. She agreed, after much resistance, old, in New York City, when a kid tried to feel her up on the and dug in, executing each detail by hand. “It satisfied my way home from school. She clocked him with her lunch- unbelievable appetite to do a million things at once,” Standefer said, recalling a trip to the laundromat to dye box and left him for dead, lying on the street. all the costumes. “I killed a boy today!” she announced to her mother, with no contrition. Her grade school banned lunchboxes be- When, to her amazement, the movie received a Best Art cause of the incident; the young Standefer couldn’t have Direction award at the Chicago International Film Festicared less. She walked away with the knowledge that, go- val, more offers followed. It was on another set that she ing forward, “I wasn’t going to take it.” This was early evi- encountered Alesch. They began working as a duo. Their

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ROBIN STANDEFER OF ROMAN AND WILLIAMS. PHOTOS BY NICOLE FRANZEN.

film credits include Addicted to Love and Practical Magic, both of which, you might notice, feature drop-dead gorgeous kitchens, and Zoolander, which introduced them to Ben Stiller. The actor asked them to do for his home what they’d done for his characters’ abodes. That marked the transition from cinema to verité, and, as of 2002, the beginning of Roman and Williams.

The level of detail that went into the space is staggering. Standefer and Alesch designed all the lighting fixtures—from the wall sconces to the candlesticks on each table. After years of manufacturing these sorts of custom furnishings for their clients, they will begin sell-

Named after their grandfathers, the company initially focused on residential projects for the likes of Stiller and Gwyneth Paltrow. Shifting from film to real-life locations allowed Standefer to draft her “own script.” She loved “the idea of being able to really be an author” and to do that on behalf of people who wanted to express themselves in their homes and, later, in their restaurants or hotels. It’s one of the main reasons her clients respect her and continue to work with her. “Robin dives in with an infectious intensity, and she really has a deep understanding of each project and of what you want,” said Bloomfield, who also teamed up with Roman and Williams on The John Dory Oyster Bar. “I always leave a meeting feeling blessed that I get to work with her.” Standefer feels the very same about Bloomfield and the other chefs with whom she has collaborated. More than money, what compels Standefer is the challenge of telling their stories in a way that represents both the firm’s ethos and the clients’ vision—to build places that are familiar in unexpected ways and that feel instantly timeless while referencing the past. For her, every project is a passion project.

ing them to the public when they open their own retail boutique. She describes this as the evolution from “authorship to ownership.” In addition to filling the venue with their archive of bespoke items, they plan to showcase select pieces from artisans, living and dead, who share a similar regard for materials and craftsmanship. Roman and Williams New York Guild will house a small café and feature products made by chef friends. If everything stays on schedule, the shop should open at the end of 2017, a few months before the unveiling of yet another milestone: The firm was chosen to collaborate on the renovation of the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s British Galleries, which span the sculpture and decorative arts of the 16th through 19th centuries.

Since her birthday banquet, Standefer has made a conscious effort, with Alesch’s participation, to put a more feminine stamp on the places they create: for example, Le Coucou, which Standefer saw as an opportunity to “reinvent the fine-dining space.” They had to fight to win the commission. “I poured my heart into that restaurant,” Standefer said, and it shows. The open kitchen cuts into the space as though breaking the “fourth wall” of dining out. It’s dramatically lit, with a radiating incandescence, and you watch—and hear—the chefs, as though they’re in a movie. “Why can’t a place with elevated food and white tablecloths have energy and irreverence?” she asked. With Le Coucou, she proved it can.

It’s the ultimate form of set design and brings Standefer back to where she started. She has used countless objects to tell other people’s stories, and she will do that again at one of the world’s most important cultural institutions. Were she asked to depict her own narrative, she knows what would populate the scene: “Nests. Tousled leaves. Flowers: twisted, dried, and pressed. A giant heirloom tomato. A huge whale bone. And five birds flying around.” She would be surrounded by nature in its most macabre and sublime glory. “‘Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee,’” she mused, quoting Muhammad Ali. “It’s so beautiful. I want both.”

And she made it romantic. Black and red, Roman and Williams’s signature colors, were banished, and a softer palette was employed. Light emanates from the floor-toceiling windows and from candle-laden wrought-iron chandeliers whose shape is loosely based on a floral motif. All these choices were implemented to reflect Chef Daniel Rose’s initial cues—a French chateau, the long-gone haute French spots of an older New York City—in a contemporary way and echo the “methodical and mischievous” characteristics of his food.

CLOCKWISE FROM LEFT: THE ACE NOLA HOTEL IN NEW ORLEANS. PHOTO BY

FRAN PARENTE; AN ALL-WHITE KITCHEN DESIGNED FOR GWYNETH PALTROW. PHOTO BY BJORN WALLANDER; ROBIN STANDEFER AND STEPHEN ALESCH’S MANHATTAN RESIDENCE. PHOTO BY PHIL TOLEDANO; THE DUTCH IN MANHATTAN‘S SOHO NEIGHBORHOOD. PHOTO BY IAN FREELY.

PALATE PALETTE FIVE FAMOUS ARTISTS VIEWED THROUGH FOOD photos by Catherine Losing food styling by Iain Graham set design by Sarah Parker

KIND OF BLUE. FRENCH ARTIST YVES KLEIN ONCE SAID, ”THE BLUE SKY IS MY FIRST ARTWORK.” DURING HIS SHORT LIFE, HE DEVELOPED AND PATENTED THE COLOR INTERNATIONAL KLEIN BLUE (IKB). THIS ULTRAMARINE SHADE OF BLUE IS FEATURED HEAVILY IN KLEIN'S MONOCHROMATIC WORK.

MICHELLE POLZINE SET OUT TO EVOKE THE FEEL AND FOOD OF BUDAPEST AND PRAGUE AT 20TH CENTURY CAFÉ, HER SWEET, VINTAGEINSPIRED PASTRY SPOT IN HAYES VALLEY. DISH TO TRY: HONEY CAKE.

HOT DOG. JEFF KOONS‘S BALLOON DOG (ORANGE) FROM HIS CELEBRATION SERIES SET A RECORD FOR A LIVING ARTIST WHEN IT SOLD IN 2013 FOR $58.4 MILLION AT CHRISTIE‘S. OUR TRIBUTE TO THE ARTIST USES THE MORE AFFORDABLE HOT DOG AND ICING, AMONG OTHER EDIBLE ITEMS. 90

GO FISH. ONE OF THE STYLES OF PAINTING AND SCULPTURE PABLO PICASSO WAS FAMOUS FOR IS CUBISM, WHICH TOOK APART OBJECTS AND RECONFIGURED THEM USING GEOMETRY AND COLLAGE.

LOVE IS CALLING, THE NAME OF ONE OF YAYOI KUSAMA'S INFINITY ROOMS, FEATURED MIRRORS AND TENTACLES COVERED IN POLKA DOTS, WHICH SHE'S FAMOUS FOR USING IN HER WORK. ONE OF THE MOST IMPORTANT LIVING ARTISTS FROM JAPAN, KUSAMA HAS INFLUENCED THE LIKES OF YOKO ONO, CLAES OLDENBERG, ANDY WARHOL, AND US, OF COURSE.

CUT IT OUT. AFTER CANCER SURGERY REQUIRED THAT HE USE A WHEELCHAIR, HENRI MATISSE ENTERED A SELF DESCRIBED ”SECONDE VIE” OR SECOND LIFE. IN THIS PERIOD BEFORE HIS DEATH, HE CREATED SOME OF HIS MOST BELOVED AND ADMIRED ART WITH JUST A PAIR OF SCISSORS AND SOME PAPER.

GENTL SOUL PHOTOGRAPHER ANDREA GENTL HAS AN EYE FOR BEAUTY by Mattie Kahn portrait by Lula Hyers photos by Andrea Gentl

Peek through Andrea Gentl’s viewfinder and savor a glimpse of the world she sees. It is ablaze, brilliant. It looks delicious. Gentl is a food photographer, writer, and wanderer. With her husband, Martin Hyers, she crisscrosses the world to create the kind of textured photos that look as good on magazine covers as they do on museum walls. Together, Gentl and Hyers have made work for Bon Appétit, Condé Nast Traveler, West Elm, the Ritz-Carlton Hotels, and more. But Gentl takes off on her own, too. She launched the website Hungry Ghost to be a kind of online travel journal, documenting her excursions via photos, recipes, and inspired observations. Gentl had always known she wanted to be an artist—since “forever.” It’s how she thinks, how she processes. She narrates stories frame by frame. Her memories are photolike—snapshots. Explaining that her dad was an antiques dealer, she summoned a visual of the ever-changing scene of ornaments he laid out on the dinner table. When she told me about her grandparents, she remembered how much she loved looking at pictures of them: “They were so mysterious. My grandfather in linen overalls by the shore of a lake smiling—at whom? My grandmother on a park bench in Long Island City; a man’s shadow in a park, cast long across the grass; a Christmas tree.” The photos intoxicated her. And once she was given an old Nikkormat camera in her teens, she realized she could make her own images. “I just started shooting things—small details,” she said. “I went

everywhere with it.” She toted the camera to Siena in Italy, where she traveled to spend a semester abroad and fell in love with food. She packed it to move to New York, having enrolled in the Parsons School of Design to study photography. And she has it still, a talisman. “That was the start,” Gentl said. Eventually, she started working in restaurants and assisting a prop stylist. People took notice of her own work. She met Hyers. She became a food photographer. “I have chosen food, both professionally and personally,” she said. “Food is more than nourishment or beautiful photographs.” It is a connection to her loved ones, “to the past and to the future.” No wonder it sustains her. What are your earliest memories of food? Some of my earliest memories involve gathering wild foods. My stepmother sent us outside in the late spring to collect the tiniest and most fragrant strawberries. She used them for jam. She paid us a few pennies a quart. It was enough incentive to make quick work of it and to then pool our money and walk to the corner store for some fivecent Smarties or some SweeTarts. Then there were blackberries, boysenberries, tiny blueberries, rose petals, elderberries, crab apples, and so on. In the early spring, we tapped our trees collectively as a neighborhood and made gallons of the most beautiful golden syrup. In the summer, we picked sorrel and sour grass. In

in a deep way? When I was maybe around 12, I got shot in the eye with a BB gun. I lost most of the sight in that eye. You can’t see it when you look at me, but it really had a serious impact. I wasn’t allowed to play any sports. I had to be really cautious. If I got hit in the head or fell in some way, the doctors worried that maybe the BB would move or do more harm. And then I became this photographer! I see for a living. I think it made me really hone in on what a treasure it is to see. Even as a kid, I realized how special it was to see the world. How did you and Martin start working together? We were married at 24 and started working together a year later. At the time, we’d both been shooting separately. We were assisting and working in restaurants. I remember this car ride down to Virginia to visit family. Martin tried to convince me to open a pie truck or to cater photo shoots. I was so obsessed with making fruit pies at the time! It took all the way down and back until we hit Newark for him to stop pestering me about it. I said, “I really want to try to be a photographer. I need to try.” So, who knows? I could have ended up as a pie maker! A little while later, someone we knew suggested on a whim that we could work together. We sort of ran with that idea. I’m not sure we even really thought it out. It seemed totally natural—obvious. I cooked some things, we photographed them next to a north-facing window in our bedroom, and, over the course of a month or so, we put a portfolio together. Editors we had worked with as assistants were kind enough to give us a try. the fall, it was fruits, like apple and quince.

One of our first jobs was to shoot Julia Child’s Baking With Julia. I knew Julia Child from public television—one of the few stations we got in rural Massachusetts in the ’70s, and one of the few programs my parents would allow me to watch. I remember going to shoot her in her beautiful kitchen in Cambridge, where she stood at the window and exclaimed, “Look, there’s a squirrel! Let’s bake him in a pie!” She had this devilish twinkle in her eye.

Growing up in Massachusetts, we had a big garden full of herbs and vegetables. But while my stepmother had a green thumb and an innate knowledge of wild foods, she never seemed to use it for more than making jams, jellies, and preserves. She was an incredible baker, but a horrible cook. Luckily, I had an Italian grandmother to take care of that. My grandfather was Roman and my grandmother was Puglian. She cooked in the best style of both Roman and of cucina povera. From her, I learned a love of bitter greens, garlic, good olive oil, and homemade pasta. She fed me farina with butter and pecorino and anise biscuits soaked in coffee. She loved food, cooking, cookbooks. When I was in college, she would mail me sour cream chocolate chip coffee cakes and focaccia.

We photographed her book, and that really sealed our place as food photographers. What I didn’t get at the time was how incredibly special and epic it was to be working with her. She came to our loft on Broome Street, we went to her house in Cambridge, and the whole time I wasn’t really in the moment. If I could go back and tell my naive 24-year-old self that I was in the presence of an incredible woman and total visionary, I would do it in a second. I would savor every moment. Time travel is one of my greatest desires. In a way, Julia is mildly responsible for the beginnings of my adult food journey. After that book, we just never stopped working.

What I have come to realize is that we never cook alone, even when we are alone. Cooking is not a solitary action. Even when I find myself quite alone in the kitchen, those who have taught me something about food always surround me. We cook with the ghosts of our ancestors before us, our grandmothers, our mothers, our friends. I find that I talk to them, sometimes in my head and other times quite literally aloud. They nudge me, and for that I am grateful.

What makes a good partnership? A healthy partnership is one of honesty, one in which both people are given plenty of room to grow. We’re all shifting constantly, so accepting change in others is key, and practicing forgiveness. That’s a big one.

When did you realize that the visual world spoke to you

Working closely with another person is an amazing experience. You can either be competitive with that person or embrace all that they offer. We’ve worked this out over the many long years of our collaborating. We know how to pick up where one of us leaves off. We can divide work and do twice as much. We are constantly surprised and inspired and, yes, at times a little competitive. We both bring equal value to our work. I might style or direct more than Martin does, but he may light more than I do or deal with our clients more up front. In the end, we never know who took what photograph. I love seeing him work. When we travel, he is always up at dawn and out late at night. He finds new perspectives, literally. Sometimes I look around and he’s on the roof. We’re really lucky to be able to do what we love and to travel the world in search of beauty. Train me. How can a person learn to eat with her eyes? Go to a farmers market. Foods in season looks and taste better. A tomato in August or a peach in July—nothing is better. Growing up with a big garden, I learned to follow the seasons and to preserve what was extra for the darker months of winter. Even now, I go to the market free of ideas and let the food inspire me. What’s the last food that made you salivate? Oh, wild-caught trout from Peru and wild salsa verde. We were in the Andes Mountains a few months ago, hosting a workshop. We were, I think, at an altitude of about 17,000 feet. It must have taken us 10 hours to get there on horseback. We were staying in this super-small indigenous community, Q’eros Nation. We cooked with them. We slaughtered two lambs, which they cooked in these earth ovens. We hiked. We worked. And the one evening, we went to camp out. The men there fish in the rivers and catch the most amazing trout. The flesh is the palest pink. It’s so stunning. We cooked that up in a cast-iron pan over the grill and made a salsa verde from ingredients we found— wild mint, sorrel, lemons from the market in Cusco. Everything about that meal was just so delicious, even thinking about it now. But sometimes I think simpler pleasures, like a toasted piece of She Wolf Bakery miche and a heap of salty butter, do the trick just as well. There’s nothing like the smell of toast. Toast is a perfect food. Dead or alive, which artists would make the best food photographers? Georgia O’Keeffe for her sensuality, Louise Bourgeois for her humor, Giorgio Morandi for his composition, and Sally Mann for attention to death and decay and for her luminous light. Where do you find inspiration? The world has so much beauty to it. Lately, I am really finding inspiration in my daughter’s generation, which uses Instagram and other social media outlets in a more political way than most. They are posting about gender politics—not avocado toasts. I find her generation to be really raw and grassroots, and, to me, that is beautiful.

SHIPS, AHOY A MOVEABLE FEAST IN THE MEDITERRANEAN by Claudia Wu

I first heard about the Sailing Collective at a celebration they threw at the Explorer’s Club in Manhattan’s Upper East Side. They screened the trailer for Food Stories, a series in the vein of Netflix’s Chef’s Table, where each episode focuses on one chef on a sailing charter someplace in the world. The pilot was shot in the Gulf of Naples with Chef Tara Norvell as host. In that episode, she visited a magical vineyard called Casa D’Ambra—which sits at the top of the volcanic island of Ischia— and the island’s natural hot springs, where locals go to sous vide themselves (and sometimes food) in pools of water. It peaked my interest, as did the amazing feast they served, prepared by two of their chefs, Sandy Ho and Eva Mrak-Blumberg. So when the opportunity arose this past summer, I joined a group of fellow sailing newbies led by Diana Yen, food consultant and co-founder of The Jewels of New York, and set sail from Sardinia, Italy, with the founder of The Sailing Collective, Dayyan Armstrong, as our captain, to do some cooking and see what all the fuss was about.

or snack will be. Every boat had a chef, although sometimes captains do double duty. Chef Ho, an Aussie chef and food consultant whose first trip was as a guest last year, naturally gravitated to the kitchen on board and has now sailed and cooked on over 10 charters with the company. She doesn’t come with set menus or recipes, but finds inspiration from the available produce. Cherry Bombe contributor and photographer Sidney Bensimon, althought not a professional chef, has been on five trips and cooked on three, with plans for more. The collective has also offered yoga-focused packages, working with instructors like Krissy Jones and Chloe Kernaghan from Sky Ting Yoga in Chinatown. (There are worse things in life than doing yoga on a beach twice a day in Thailand.)

Cooking on a boat has its challenges, as you can imagine. Every boat is different, so you never know what you’re going to get. On our particular boat, an overzealous battery cranked the temperature of one of our refrigerators up so much that all the produce froze. Our The collective describes oven had a dial not with itself as a group of travel degrees, but the numbers specialists, where “explo1 through 9. We were supration meets modern travplied with very bare bones el.” They offer private and cutlery, dishes, pans, and collective charters, so both two very dull knives. You’re groups and single travelbasically cooking on a proers are welcome. Each pane camping stove, so year, they organize around improvisation and keepONE OF OUR FIRST STOPS WAS OFF THIS BEACH IN TAVOLARA, 50 boats on 20 different ing organized and clean THE SMALLEST KINGDOM IN THE WORLD. PHOTO BY DIANA YEN. itineraries. At press time, in tight quarters is a must. they had trips planned in Wakes from other boats Croatia, Greece, Italy, Maine, Thailand, Madagascar, Brit- can send everything that’s loose flying around the boat’s ish Virgin Islands, Saint Martin, Mallorca, Puget Sound, kitchen or galley. Belize, Sweden, Haiti, and Myanmar. The accommodations are quite intimate, so every effort is made to pair people For Chef Norvell, who co-founded Brooklyn’s Yuji Ramen with similar travel goals on each trip. Every guest fills out and Okonomi, packing her own knives was key. Chef Ho a questionnaire to determine what kind of activities, foods, brings a long list of tools and ingredients, including pin and experiences they are looking for in their trip. Destina- bone tweezers, a piping bag, a wire rack, baking powder, tions are similar year to year, but custom itineraries can miso, and buckwheat flour for gluten-free guests. Shopping and cooking for guests with different dietary needs also be built when and wherever you want. is part of the job. Certain locations are amazing for proWhat we discovered was that life on boats revolves around duce—Italy, Greece, and Thailand—while others can be a few key activities when you’re not docked in a marina more challenging. Despite all this, things can get quite somewhere amazing. Sailing is pretty slow, so between fancy onboard. Homemade bread and pasta can be made destinations you fill much of the days swimming, tanning, aboard, as can whole roasted chicken, and there’s even a relaxing, drinking, and thinking about what your next meal device that has been invented that you drag behind the

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CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT: SAILING IS A VERY SLOW

MODE OF TRAVEL, SO BETWEEN DESTINATIONS, LIFE ALSO SLOWS DOWN; CHEF SANDY HO SHOPS FOR PROVISIONS AT THE FISH MARKET; OUR SAILING COMPANIONS FOR THE WEEK; A SHOT FROM BEHIND THE SCENES OF FOOD STORIES: CHEF TARA NORVELL SOUS VIDES SOME LOCAL POTATOES IN A VOLCANIC HOT SPRING IN ISCHIA, ITALY; THEY TAKE HYDRATION VERY SERIOUSLY ON THE SAILING COLLECTIVE BOATS. THIS PAGE AND PREVIOUS SPREAD: PHOTOS COURTESY OF THE SAILING COLLECTIVE

boat to churn homemade ice cream.

Bring a large pot of water to a boil, then salt generously. Add the pasta and cook til al dente.

While a trip with the Sailing Collective isn’t inexpensive, it has made sailing vacations more accessible and approachable for some. It is an experience like no other trip you could or would take on land. (We sailed from Italy to France without having to stop for customs.) And there is nothing quite like diving off the boat directly into the sea. No sand in your bathing suit, no struggling through the surf or waves to get to calmer waters. It’s a little oasis in the most beautiful setting you can imagine. You come to realize how little you need to live and to live well. As Norvell puts it, “Life on the water has many simple pleasures; nature never looks quite as beautiful, food never tastes as good… and the intimacy of a crew in shared quarters and experience fosters a unique and lasting camaraderie.”

Meanwhile, in a large serving bowl, add the garlic, lemon juice, and lemon zest and slowly whisk in the olive oil until the ingredients have emulsified. Mix in the cheese and season with salt to taste. When the spaghetti is done, drain and add to the serving bowl. Add the tomatoes and arugula and toss so that everything is coated with the lemon-cheese mixture. Sprinkle with the parsley and additional cheese. Serve immediately.

MUSHROOM, FENNEL, AND QUINOA POLPETTES

I think all of us on our trip, after spending a week on the water, the waves rocking us to sleep every night, staring at stars in the sky through our bedroom portholes, instilled a kind of calm in us, and we started to internalize the romance that has existed for eons between people and the sea. And for a time after we got off the boat, we experienced something called land sickness. The worst of the rocking feeling came for me upon waking in the mornings, very much like a bad hangover, like my mind and body were dreaming of still being on the water. It wore off with time, but for some people the feeling lingers, a condition called Mal de Debarquement. The only remedy, if you can’t stand it, is to go back. The ocean is where we came from, after all. We gestate in water for months before we are born, so perhaps we shouldn’t look at this malady as a sickness of the land but the cure for it, our chance to return to where life began.

WITH ARUGULA PESTO Makes 4 to 6 servings

Polpette in Italian translates to meatball. We didn’t have easy access to ground meat during the trip, so we decided to make a vegetarian version. Day-old bread was hand grated into breadcrumbs. We bought a mortar and pestle in town and used it to make a lovely pesto with deliciously peppery arugula and locally grown pine nuts. FOR THE ARUGULA PESTO: ½ cup pine nuts 1 garlic clove, minced 2 cups packed arugula leaves ½ cup grated Parmesan cheese 1 teaspoon salt 1 cup olive oil FOR THE POLPETTES: Olive oil 1 medium fennel bulb, trimmed and diced 8 ounces wild mushrooms (such as cremini, shiitake, and porcini), cleaned, stemmed, and diced 3 cloves garlic, minced 2 teaspoons fresh thyme leaves Salt Freshly ground black pepper 1½ cups cooked quinoa 2 tablespoons pine nuts, toasted and chopped 2 tablespoons grated Parmesan cheese ⅔ cup breadcrumbs 2 tablespoons finely chopped flat-leaf parsley 3 eggs, beaten

LEMON PASTA

WITH ARUGULA AND CHERRY TOMATOES

Makes 4 servings

Southern Italy’s Almalfi Coast is known for a type of lemon called sfusato, which are larger and sweeter than those we have in America. This recipe was inspired by a restaurant we visited in Capri where diners enjoy their meals amidst a lush lemon grove. The trees were so laden with ripe fruit, we witnessed a few sfusato crashing down on people’s tables. Salt 1 pound spaghetti 2 garlic cloves, finely grated Juice and zest of 2 lemons 5 tablespoons olive oil 1 cup finely grated Parmesan cheese, plus extra for sprinkling 1 pint cherry tomatoes, halved 1 cup arugula ¼ cup chopped flat-leaf parsley

TO MAKE THE PESTO: In a food processor, combine the pine nuts, garlic, arugula, Parmesan, and salt and pulse to blend. With the machine running, slowly add the olive oil and process until smooth, stopping to scrape down the sides of the bowl as needed. Taste and adjust the seasonings. Cover and set aside

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Add the tomatoes with their juices, the fish stock, and the wine and simmer, covered, for 25 minutes. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Add the seafood and cook, uncovered, until the fish is just cooked through and the clams open, 4 to 6 minutes. Discard any clams that remain unopened. Serve the stew immediately in soup bowls, with the grilled bread on the side.

until ready to use. TO MAKE THE POLPETTES: Heat 2 teaspoons olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat and add the fennel. Cook until lightly golden, about 2 to 3 minutes. Set aside in a large bowl. Increase the heat to mediumhigh and add another 2 teaspoons of olive oil. Add the mushrooms, garlic, and thyme and cook for 2 minutes. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

SEMIFREDDO

Place in the same bowl as the fennel. When cool, add the quinoa, pine nuts, cheese, breadcrumbs, and 1 tablespoon of the parsley and mix together. Taste and add more salt and pepper, if necessary. Add the beaten eggs and mix well. Form into 2-inch balls and refrigerate until firm, about 30 minutes.

WITH NOUGAT AND PISTACHIOS

Makes 6 servings

Several of the small towns we visited featured outdoor food markets and you could always find vendors selling blocks of fresh nougat. The chewy sweets were feather light with crunchy bits of nuts. We knew it would give the perfect texture to our semifreddo. We didn’t have an ice cream maker or an electric mixer on the boat, so the eight of us onboard took turns whisking the semifreddo mixture and turned it into a fun kitchen dance party.

Return the skillet to medium-low heat and add just enough olive oil to coat the bottom of the pan. Place the polpettes in the pan and cook for 5 to 7 minutes, turning a few times so all sides get golden brown. To serve, spread the arugula pesto on a serving platter, arrange the polpettes on top, and sprinkle with the remaining parsley.

¾ cup chopped pistachios 1¾ cups heavy whipping cream, chilled 1¼ cups sugar 7 large egg yolks ½ cup fresh lemon juice 1 tablespoon plus 2 teaspoons finely grated lemon zest ¼ teaspoon salt 5 ounces nougat, roughly chopped 1 cup mixed berries, for serving

SARDINIAN SEAFOOD STEW

Makes 4 servings

This seafood stew allowed us to use much of the Mediterranean’s incredible bounty in one dish. Every time we stopped at a different island or port, we would browse the amazing seafood markets to see what they offered. At one, we found a beautiful silvery-scaled fish with bright clear eyes; at another, clams and langoustines, which have a delicate taste that captures the essence of the ocean.

Line a 9 x 5 x 3-inch metal loaf pan with plastic wrap, leaving a generous overhang. Sprinkle ¼ cup of the pistachios evenly over the bottom of the pan. Using an electric mixer, beat the whipping cream in a large bowl until soft peaks form. Refrigerate the whipped cream while preparing the custard.

3 tablespoons olive oil 1 medium fennel bulb, trimmed and diced 1 medium onion, peeled, trimmed, and diced 3 cloves garlic, minced 6 sprigs of fresh thyme ⅛ teaspoon dried red pepper flakes Salt Freshly ground black pepper 1 (28-ounce) can crushed tomatoes in juice 2½ cups fish stock 1 cup full-bodied red wine, such as Zinfandel or Syrah 1 pound skinless fillets of thick white-fleshed fish, such as halibut, hake, or pollock, cut into 2-inch chunks ½ pound clams, scrubbed and cleaned ½ pound langoustines or whole jumbo prawns Grilled slices of country bread, for serving

Whisk the sugar with the egg yolks, lemon juice, lemon zest, and salt in large metal bowl. Set the bowl over a large saucepan of simmering water and whisk constantly for about 4 minutes until the yolk mixture is thick and fluffy and an instant-read thermometer inserted into the mixture registers 170°F. Remove the bowl from the heat. Using an electric mixer, beat the mixture until cool, thick, and doubled in volume, about 6 minutes. Gently fold in the chilled whipped cream, ½ cup pistachios, and nougat. Transfer the mixture to the prepared loaf pan and smooth the top with a spatula. Tap the pan lightly to remove any air pockets. Cover the top with the plastic wrap overhang. Freeze the semifreddo until firm, at least 8 hours or overnight. Unfold the plastic wrap from the top of the semifreddo and invert the dessert onto a platter. Remove the plastic wrap. Dip a large knife into hot water and cut the semifreddo into 1-inch-thick slices. Serve immediately with the berries. The semifreddo can be made 3 days ahead. Keep frozen until ready to serve.

Heat the oil in a heavy pot over medium heat. Once the oil starts to shimmer, stir in the fennel, onion, garlic, thyme, red pepper flakes, 1½ teaspoons salt, and ½ teaspoon black pepper. Cook, stirring once or twice, until the vegetables begin to soften, about 4 minutes.

Recipes and photos by The Jewels of New York.

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she's got

THE BEAT KEEPING TIME WITH MOLLY YEH, PERCUSSIONIST AND SUPERSTAR BLOGGER by Byrne Fahey portraits by Chantell Quernemoen

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Molly Yeh started playing in the kitchen at a young age, banging on pots and pans with her mother’s whisks and wooden spoons. It was perhaps a foreshadowing of her future at the Juilliard School for the performing arts in New York, where she would study percussion. It also was a clue that one day she would flip those pans over and stir up a different kind of magic.

Bao with Sriracha Mayo and Sesame Pickles. We talked to Yeh before her book was published about everything from life in the kitchen to home on the range. Describe your transition to farm life. It felt like shavasana [a pose where you lie flat on your back] at the end of a hard sweaty yoga class. I loved my time in New York so much, but toward the end of it, the value I placed on being able to go out and try new exciting things every night shifted toward a desire to stay in, work on my blog, and enjoy the kind of quality of life that you get on a farm. Adjusting to things like having a garden and one solid option for a pizza parlor in town and being able to push a massive grocery cart through a massive open supermarket aisle and then driving a ton of groceries home through no traffic at all came really, really easily. Other things, like making friends and understanding cookie salad, took a little more time and work.

Yeh is the mastermind behind the site my name is yeh (the lowercase letters are intentional). In the food blog world, she’s a triple threat. She takes her own photos, styling them with a touch of cozy clutter. A shot of mini peach bakewell tarts features the golden yellow treats, some still bare and in the pan, one with a half smear of creamy white frosting and one pristine, a smattering of spilled slivered almonds on the marble table beneath. Yeh’s photography is paired with refreshingly personal writing. In a post on tahini cake, she mentioned her shameless Cheetos habit, recapped her meals from a trip to Australia, and mused on whether or not her beloved turquoise fleece pullover is too normcore. To complete the trifecta, Yeh’s consistently delicious recipes range from the straightforward (Pumpkin Cake with Cream Cheese Frosting) to creative (Brisket on Sourdough with Sriracha Shaved Brussels Sprouts) to plain genius (Bloody Mary Popsicles!).

How did you deal with the change of culture and pace? Through the food and the customs around it. It was the first new thing that I could understand enough to formulate questions about. Shortly after I moved to town, my great-aunt-in-law Ethel and her daughter Elaine helped me make lefse, a thin Norwegian potato pancake that’s common around the holidays, and through that so much became clear. Their respect for this tradition, their stories, and the holiday customs surrounding it were things I would never have learned by reading lefse recipes or watching how-to videos online.

In the suburbs of Chicago, Yeh grew up eating food reflective of her Jewish and Asian roots, along with her fair share of Lunchables, and a career in music was her game plan. Post-Juilliard, she found herself in love with New York’s colorful food scene and a certain trombonist from the North Dakota-Minnesota border, whom her readers will recognize as her beloved “Eggboy.” The trombonist won out, and in 2013, Yeh moved to Grand Forks to live with her now-husband on his family’s sugar beet farm. It was an adjustment, to say the least. The population of Grand Forks is around 55,000–New York City has a population 150 times greater. The average temperature in Grand Forks is 6.7 degrees in January. Yeh traded chaos, traffic, and city lights for the open country roads of the Midwest. She scored not only a backyard but an entire farm. While Eggboy plugs away in the fields, Yeh plugs away in the kitchen, dreaming up her sprinkle-stuffed cakes and farm-fresh egg recipes. (A chicken coop full of hens, all named Macaroni, keeps her motivated on the latter.)

What New York City distractions do you miss? Easy access to almost any ingredient I could ever want. Also noodles from Xi’an Famous Foods, the salads from BKLYN Larder, and the contemporary classical music scene. And the ballet! I gained a new appreciation for live streams from music and dance performances when I moved here. I’d watch them from my bathtub. But there have been a couple of things that haven’t been live-streamed, like some Justin Peck ballets, that I’ve really felt some FOMO about. Can you see yourself living on the farm forever? Sure! It might be fun to retire somewhere mountainous or with the option for a year-round garden though, or maybe if space travel is enjoyable and open to the public at some point in my life, we could do that.

After several years of blogging, Yeh has written her first cookbook, Molly on the Range. Published this fall, the book is a playful mix of her Jewish and Asian background and her New York and Midwestern influences, with plenty of tahini, marzipan, and funfetti scattered throughout. She takes bourekas, the savory Middle Eastern pastries, and ups the game by stuffing them with scallion cream cheese and topping them with a generous hit of everything bagel seasoning. Several pages are dedicated to Midwestern specialities such as “Cookie Salad,” traditionally a cloying combo of cookies, Cool Whip, and canned fruit that Yeh has sophisticated with homemade pastry cream and Italian rainbow cookies. Her heritage blends together beautifully in dishes such as Scallion Pancake Challah and Schnitzel

How has the Internet facilitated real friendships or connections for you? Becoming real-life friends with an Internet friend is so common for the blogging community because having a blog and interacting with other blogs is like having a bunch of pen pals. My friends in Grand Forks found me through a blog post on corn dogs that I did for Food52. We were neighbors! But we didn’t actually meet until they saw this corn dog on the Internet coming out of Grand Forks and emailed me. Who do you admire in the food world?

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People who are inviting and curious and show respect for food and the meaning around it. My friends Leetal and Ron, who own NY Shuk [an online company offering Middle Eastern Jewish pantry items], recently spent an afternoon teaching me how to make couscous, real couscous, four different types, and then served it to me with some meatball wizardry made from one of Leetal’s family recipes and gold-dusted marzipan. It was so comforting, and they were so patient to teach me about the food they grew up with and loved, I suddenly wanted to eat it every day. It was the first time I had ever met them in real life! And they made me feel so welcome. That’s how I hope to make people feel.

den loyalty that I can’t stop thinking about. Everyone I met and every kitchen I ate in was like a mini Blue Hill at Stone Barns in that everything, literally everything, was sourced from their personal gardens and animals. It wasn’t a few herbs plucked from the garden and sprinkled on grocery store eggplant; it was entire meals made out of whatever was right outside the door. Everyone had such a deep, natural connection to seasonality and their food, not because it was a trendy “farm-to-tabley” thing—it was just the way. What parallels do you draw between food and music? The whole “lock yourself in a room and do it over and over until it gets better” thing really applies to both, and after having spent so much of my time growing up in a practice room by myself, I was able to understand this concept when it came time to get better at food and blogging. Of course, knowing the history and context behind a work is necessary in both food and music in order to get the most out of it. And the relationship that has always been a fas-

What sources inspire you? The cuisine of my Jewish and Chinese heritages, my new Midwest surroundings, nostalgia, my travels… A few months ago I went to County Cork in Ireland, and everyone who cooked for me showed this insane next-level gar-

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cination to me is the one between technique and interpretation, or creativity. When do you have a good enough understanding of technique to start taking artistic liberties? How do you maintain technical integrity while pushing yourself creatively? Technique is a struggle that runs in my family. My dad, who has been a professional clarinetist since he was a teenager, talks about how he doesn’t feel like he has the best technique, but he’s so musical. And I’ve never been confident that I’ve spent enough time practicing snare drum rudiments or interacting with roux before moving onto the creative, but it’s important to understand all of this because you just can’t have a good dish of food or musical performance with technique but not the personality or vice versa.

I feel most productive and comfortable addressing negative things in one-on-one situations. I should also mention that I am extremely grateful every day that there isn’t much negative in my personal life other than some routine insecurities and a fox that just ate one of our chickens.

CAULIFLOWER SHAWARMA TACOS

Makes 8 tacos

Janna Gur’s The Book of New Israeli Food holds my favorite recipe for at-home chicken shawarma. It uses a perfect blend of garam masala, curry powder, and chicken broth base for a fairly easy way to make you feel like you’re hanging on the streets of Israel. I like using a similar approach with roasted cauliflower, and the result is delicious. It requires some help in the texture department, so it’s important to give the cauliflower enough time in the oven to get crispy, and the sprinkle of chopped raw onions at the end is key for crunch.

Is practicing percussion ever like recipe testing for you? It’s so similar, you just do it over and over, tweaking little things along the way until you get it right. What I tend to enjoy more about recipe developing, though, is how much more you can change things as you go. With percussion, you can’t rewrite a piece; you have to figure out a way to play a piece that someone else wrote (unless you’re the one writing it, which I’m not). But with recipe testing, if I find that creamed spinach and pie crust go together better as a savory rugelach than as a hand pie, then I can go with it.

TACOS ¼ cup olive oil ½ teaspoon kosher salt 1 tablespoon garam masala 1 tablespoon curry powder 1½ teaspoons vegetable or chicken broth base 1½ pounds cauliflower florets 1 medium onion 2 tablespoons flavorless oil 8 six-inch flour tortillas ¼ cup fresh cilantro leaves, finely chopped

Do you still play? I have gigs here and there. I played a really bloody opera last year at the Los Angeles Opera called Dog Days. It’s kind of the same premise as Molly on the Range: people in the middle of nowhere acquiring food. But Molly on the Range ends with funfetti cake and Dog Days ends with everyone dying, so maybe just be prepared for that. It’s one of my very favorite pieces of music, and I hope you’ll have a listen.

Preheat the oven to 450ºF. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.

Do you worry about burning out on cooking in a similar way as you burned out on music? Burning out on things and learning how to re-approach them is kind of just how I’ve always done things. I did it with figure skating, I did it with mustard collecting, I did it with all of Sia’s albums… I kind of actually did it with cooking already after the recipe testing for Molly on the Range was complete. I had about a month and a half of writing left to do, and during that time I lived on bread and butter and cold brew coffee and listened only to Sia. Being able to cook other people’s recipes after a year of having to test my own was what brought me back around to cooking.

In a large bowl, mix together the olive oil, salt, garam masala, curry powder, and broth base. Add the cauliflower and toss to coat. Spread the cauliflower out onto the baking sheet and bake, stirring occasionally, until browned and crispy, 30 to 40 minutes. Thinly slice three-quarters of the onion. Dice the remaining one-quarter and set aside for topping. In a skillet, heat the oil over medium-high heat. Add the sliced onion and cook, stirring occasionally, until browned, about 10 minutes. Warm the tortillas on the stove or in the microwave. To assemble, fill them with cauliflower, fried onion, tahini sauce, raw chopped onion, cilantro, and zhoug.

Why do you like to cook? How does the joy of cooking and blogging relate to the joy of music? I like to think that anytime someone eats a slice of cake or attends a concert, that it’s (hopefully) one of the highlights of their day, so if I can play any part in making that happen, I’ll be a happy bean.

TAHINI SAUCE

Makes ½ cup

¼ cup tahini 3 tablespoons cold water 1 tablespoon lemon juice Kosher salt Black pepper

You’ve talked about an effort to be positive on your blog. How do you maintain your positive persona online? I’m generally a positive person, in life and not just online. I’m way more interested in celebrating than kvetching.

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In a small bowl, mix together the tahini, water, and lemon juice until the mixture thickens. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

thanks to a heavy dose of coriander and anise. Oh, and I am such a sucker for alliteration! Aren’t you?

ZHOUG

DONUTS 1¾ cups flour 1 cup sugar 1 teaspoon baking powder ½ teaspoon baking soda ¾ teaspoon kosher salt 1 large egg ½ cup buttermilk ¼ cup flavorless oil 1 teaspoon vanilla extract ¼ cup water

Makes 1½ cups

5 jalapeños, seeded and coarsely chopped 4 cloves garlic 1 bunch flat-leaf parsley, coarsely chopped (about 1 cup) 1 bunch fresh cilantro, coarsely chopped (about 1 cup) 1 teaspoon ground cumin ½ teaspoon ground coriander ¼ teaspoon cayenne pepper ½ teaspoon kosher salt Black pepper ¼ cup olive oil

GLAZE 3 cups powdered sugar 2 tablespoons honey 4 to 5 tablespoons fresh blood orange juice (about 2 blood oranges)

In a food processor, combine the jalapeños, garlic, parsley, cilantro, cumin, coriander, cayenne, salt, a few turns of pepper, and the olive oil and blend until it’s the consistency of pesto, adding more olive oil if desired. Store in the fridge for up to 3 days or spoon into ice cube trays, freeze, and thaw as needed.

DUKKAH ¼ cup hazelnuts, toasted and coarsely ground ¼ cup toasted sesame seeds 1 tablespoon coriander seeds, toasted and coarsely ground 1 tablespoon ground anise seeds Pinch of kosher salt

DUKKAH DONUTS

WITH BLOOD ORANGE GLAZE

Makes 12 donuts

The only all-nighter I ever really pulled was in the name of donuts. It happened in college when after a night of suffering through megaphone poetry in Washington Heights and watching my friends dance the salsa on the Lower East Side, it was decided that we should probably just kill two hours at the Yaffa Cafe (RIP) once the bars closed so that we could get to the Doughnut Plant when it opened. This was around the time when I was anxious that the world was going to end before I could try all the donuts in Manhattan.

TO MAKE THE DONUTS: Preheat the oven to 375ºF. Coat a 12-cavity donut pan with cooking spray.

I was so proud of myself for convincing my friends of this plan that I ordered one of each flavor, and together, my two friends, some guy from Alaska, and I ate 14 of the doughiest glaziest donuts in the city. Miraculously none of us puked, and I made it uptown to orchestra rehearsal on time for the downbeat of Schoenberg’s Five Pieces for Orchestra. Ah, to be resilient after all-nighters again…

Bake until a toothpick inserted into a donut comes out clean, about 12 minutes. Cool in the pan for 5 minutes, then remove to a wire rack to cool completely.

In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. In a medium bowl, whisk together the egg, buttermilk, oil, vanilla, and water. Whisk the wet mixture into the dry mixture and stir to combine. Fill a piping bag (with no tip) with the batter and pipe the batter into the donut cavities, filling each halfway. This could get a little messy.

TO MAKE THE GLAZE: In a small bowl, mix together the powdered sugar, honey, and 4 tablespoons orange juice. Add more juice little by little until the mixture is spreadable (you might not need the full remaining tablespoon). It should be quite thick yet spreadable.

My donuts these days are all homemade, as we don’t have any donut shops in town, unless you count a Tim Hortons that mainly caters to the Canadian population that descends upon Grand Forks on the weekends to go to Target.

TO MAKE THE DUKKAH: In a small bowl, mix together the hazelnuts, sesame seeds, coriander seeds, anise seeds, and salt. To decorate the donuts, dip them halfway into the glaze and allow excess glaze to drip off. Sprinkle the tops with the dukkah and enjoy.

Frying them is typically reserved for Hanukkah, but for the rest of the year I use my trusty baked-donut pan. It took me a while to warm up to baked donuts, pegging them as nothing but fraudulent muffins, but they’re pretty darn tasty in that quirky shape of theirs. These have a density level somewhere between a cupcake and a muffin, and they’re coated with the Egyptian nut-and-seed mix, dukkah, which gains a certain specialness

Recipes and photos from Molly on the Range: Recipes and Stories from An Unlikely Life on a Farm by Molly Yeh. Published by Rodale.

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of MARRIAGE &MOLE HOW THE TRADITIONAL MEXICAN DISH BROUGHT ANNABEL MEHRAN AND JOSH EELLS TOGETHER

by Lauren Salkeld photos by Lauren and Abby Ross

Food has been a pivotal player in Annabel Mehran and Josh Eells’s relationship since day one. The two met by chance, a week after Valentine’s Day, when Mehran was throwing a dinner party and one of her friends brought Eells, a writer, as her guest. The hostess was so distracted with the elaborate meal she had planned, she hardly noticed the handsome stranger in her midst. Mehran, a photographer, had recently returned from Mexico, where she was on assignment for Purple magazine, shooting La Casa Azul, the iconic blue home where Frida Kahlo lived most of her life. (It’s now a museum honoring the artist’s life and work.) “Frida’s kitchen is my favorite room in the house—it’s a room that feels like happiness,” said Mehran. Inspired, she copied down Kahlo’s lengthy mole recipe that was written on one of the kitchen walls. Not only was she making the mole, with its 20 ingredients, three different chilies, and multiple steps, for her party, but Mehran also was preparing a challenging Persian rice dish with a very specific crispy crust known as a tahdig. When Mehran, who is half Persian, finally noticed Eells, she thought he shared her heritage and was quietly judging her tahdig technique. (Executing a perfect tahdig is a Persian point of pride.) Eells, it turned out, is part Mexican, so he was actually judging her mole—which he deemed not nearly as good as his grandmother’s. He did, however, like the rice, not to mention Mehran. When asked how they fell in love, Mehran stuck to the culinary theme: “It took longer than it takes to make toast, but not as long as it takes to make mole.” Three years and one month later, they got engaged and started looking for a place to tie the knot. “We wanted to be married in a beautiful natural landscape, outside a city,” explained Mehran. “I pictured our guests staying together in a rustic hotel, sort of a grownup camp.” Thanks to a tip from a friend, the couple found a location in the redwood forests north of San Francisco, in a town called Monte Rio along the Russian River. “There’s something about those trees that makes me feel like I’m in a real-life fairy tale,” said Mehran. Finding Dawn Ranch for the accommodations sealed the deal. Built in 1905, with guest cabins nestled amidst intense greenery, the property was just what Mehran had in mind. Friends and family who weren’t into the summer camp vibe were directed to the Farmhouse Inn, a hotel in Forestville that’s considered one of the best in the country. Mehran and Eells liked Dawn Ranch so much they hosted the rehearsal dinner there, gathering 200 guests for a Texas-style barbecue. Eells is from Austin and was skeptical that Californians could pull off something authentic, but the Dawn Ranch team surprised everyone with firstrate brisket and ribs. Nimble & Finn’s, a local ice cream

CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT: THE

BRIDE IN HER VINTAGE MEXICAN WEDDING DRESS AND BEADED TIARA; THE REHEARSAL DINNER; THE MOTHER OF THE BRIDE; A SLEEPER CAR STOCKED WITH BLANKETS AND PILLOWS; LOVE: THE THEME OF THE WEEKEND; TENTS DESIGNED BY SHELTER CO. WERE PLACED AROUND THE GROUNDS FOR GUESTS TO LOUNGE IN.

company, served dessert from an old-fashioned cart, and later in the night, the guests gathered around a bonfire for s’mores. For entertainment, a local band called the California Cowboys played classics from such country legends as Waylon Jennings and Johnny Cash. Christian Dixon, a San Francisco D.J., ended the night with some soul music on old 45s. For the festivities, Mehran wore a vintage Mexican wedding dress from the ’70s and a beaded wedding tiara from the ’20s. “I love any sort of headdress,” said Mehran. “You rarely get to wear them—if not this weekend, then when?” The next day, she went “classic bride” in a Dolce & Gabbana gown embroidered with lace flowers and tiny crystals, and a blue velvet sash. She paired it with a horsehair-style veil, silver shoes, and an emerald necklace that her grandmother wore on her own wedding day. With Picnic at Hanging Rock, the cult Australian murder mystery by director Peter Weir, as her aesthetic inspiration, the bride dressed her flower girls in white lawn dresses. They also wore blue ribbons to match Mehran’s sash, plus white faux-fur jackets for running around the forest at night. The bridesmaids wore dresses from Awaveawake, an eco-friendly fashion line designed by bridesmaid Jaclyn Hodes, and floral crowns. “I used to spend a lot of time in my grandmother’s garden making crowns, and I always wanted that to be a part of my wedding,” explained Mehran. Each member of her girl gang got a personalized jacket—name on front, wedding role on back—custom embroidered by Event Apparel, a Los Angeles-based company used by Hollywood production companies. For the flowers, Mehran chose white blossoms with a bit of pale pink and blue mixed in. The florist, Grant & Company, built a “J&A” out of fairy lights and ferns and “chandeliers” dripping with garlands of greenery. Mehran also had them create ivy crowns and boutonnières for the guests, so everyone could be part of the rustic forest theme. A few Persian traditions were incorporated into the wedding, including the Sofreh Aghd—a table that features a mirror and symbolic foods, such as sweets, nuts, fruit, and decorated eggs—and a sugar ceremony. For this, the unmarried bridesmaids held a piece of lace from Mehran’s grandmother over the couple’s heads while the married ones grated cones of sugar over the fabric, symbolizing sweetness. Once the bride and groom were officially married, the cocktail hour kicked off with oysters from nearby Hog Island Oyster Co., Persian caviar, and pigs in a blanket, which were a recommendation from… Anthony Bourdain. Mehran and Eells had collaborated on a story about the chef and TV personality and asked for his hors

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d’oeuvre advice. “The master had spoken,” said Mehran, “and he was right—major crowd-pleaser.” Dinner started with crudité and smoked eggplant dip, followed by a salad of crispy quinoa, kabocha squash, cauliflower, Brussels sprouts, and spiced yogurt. Chicken, salmon, and steak were served family style, along with Persian jeweled rice. Scented with saffron and studded with orange peel, almonds, cranberries, and carrots, the rice also had a tahdig crust, a nod to the couple’s first encounter. Mehran’s grandmother candied the carrots herself, but the caterer, Componere Fine Catering, worked magic with the rest. “We decided they could be honorary Persians,” said Mehran. San Francisco’s Miette made the wedding cake, a fourtiered take on strawberry shortcake, overflowing with fruit and flowers and done in the “naked cake” style with no frosting on the sides. Mehran enlisted another local favorite, Tartine Bakery, to make an assortment of sweets, including Mexican wedding cookies and tres leches cake. After dinner, the party moved to the River Theater, a music venue where Frank Sinatra and Buddy Holly once performed. The couple had their first dance together, and the celebration continued for hours. Bringing Mehran and Eells’s story full circle, the couple spent their honeymoon in Oaxaca, Mexico, where the new bride even took cooking classes and learned how to make fresh tortillas, chiles rellenos, guacamole, and, of course, mole.

SLOW COOKED SALMON

WITH ANDALUSIAN PIPERADE Makes 5 servings

⅓ cup and ¼ teaspoon salt 4 cups water Zest of 1 lemon 1½ pounds king salmon fillets, skin off, portioned into 5 equal pieces 7 tablespoons olive oil, plus extra 1 medium yellow onion, thinly sliced 2 medium red bell peppers, seeds and ribs removed, cut into strips 1 medium yellow bell pepper, seeds and ribs removed, cut into strips 2 medium vine ripe tomatoes, peeled, seeded, and coarsely chopped 4 garlic cloves, thinly sliced 1 teaspoon Espelette pepper 1 teaspoon thyme, chopped 1 teaspoon sherry vinegar 1 lemon, cut into 6 wedges 1 bunch of watercress, cleaned

In a large bowl, whisk together the ⅓ cup of salt, water, and lemon zest to make the brine. Place the salmon fillets in the brine for 10 minutes. Remove from the brine and pat dry. Place a skillet over medium-high heat and heat 1 tablespoon olive oil until hot but not smoking. Add the onions, peppers, and the quarter-teaspoon salt. Sauté, stirring frequently for about 10 minutes. Add the tomatoes, garlic, Espelette, and thyme and continue to cook for 1 minute. Season with salt and pepper, add the sherry vinegar, and set aside. Preheat the oven to 250°F. Place the salmon fillets on a baking sheet and cover each fillet with 1 tablespoon olive oil. Bake for approximately 13 to 15 minutes until the salmon is medium rare and the center is opaque. Remove from the oven and allow the fillets to rest for 3 minutes. Place the cooked salmon on a platter and spoon the pepper mixture on top. Garnish with lemon wedges and watercress leaves. Drizzle with 1 tablespoon olive oil.

CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT: THE

DINNER MENU; THE BRIDE AND GROOM IN THEIR WEDDING FINERY; THE SOFREH AGHD TABLE; THE WEDDING CAKE BY MIETTE; DINNER IN THE REDWOOD FOREST; A PLACE SETTING; THE BRIDE AND GROOM KISS; THE FLOWER GIRLS AND THE RING BEARER.

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JUBILEE 2016

WHO’S THE BOSS? LESSONS FROM THE THIRD ANNUAL CHERRY BOMBE JUBILEE CONFERENCE

For this year’s conference, held at the High Line Hotel in Manhattan, the overall vibe was very much about taking charge—but not necessarily in a literal way. As Vitamix CEO Jodi Berg told the audience of more than 400 women, “You don’t have to be the boss of others, but everyone should be the boss of themselves.”

The following panelists knew what it meant to get down and dirty. “So You Want To Be a Farmer?” was about the realities of working the land as a young farmer. Erin Fairbanks, Heritage Radio Network’s executive director, moderated the panel, which included Leah Penniman of Soul Fire Farm, Katie Baldwin and Amanda Merrow of Amber Waves Farm, Molly Culver of The Youth Farm, and Laura Ferrara of Westwind Orchard. The women were honest about matters regarding diversity, Mother Nature’s curveballs, and even their low salaries. “That first year we paid ourselves each $2,500,” said Merrow. “We just had a lot of jokes for years about tough economic times.”

For the first speakers of the day, sisters Jasmine and Melissa Hemsley, being the boss of themselves means being as happy and as productive as possible. So the healthy lifestyle advocates shared a Top 10 action list and delivered it with their trademark humor and humility. “When the shit hits the fan, just remember that it was passion that got you here, and it’s passion that will get you through to the other side,” said Melissa.

After lunch, writer and editor Kat Kinsman talked about Chefs With Issues, her project dedicated to breaking the silence about depression and addiction in the restaurant industry. Kinsman, author of the upcoming book Hi, Anxiety, urged the audience members to look out for each other. “This isn’t just for bosses,” she said. “Let somebody around you know that there is nothing to be ashamed of if they’re having problems. You’re not going to think less of them for being a human being.”

Next was the CEO panel, entitled “How to Be The Boss,” featuring Berg; Amanda Hesser, co-founder and CEO of Food52; Katrina Markoff, founder and head chocolatier of Vosges Haut-Chocolat and Wild Ophelia; and Christina Minardi, President of the Northeast Region of Whole Foods Market. The high-energy moderator, Ellen Bennett, founder of the apron brand Hedley + Bennett, danced her way on stage and got the audience and panelists on their feet. The women talked about a range of subjects, from hiring and firing to maternity and paternity leaves and humane leadership practices. “It’s okay to have high standards, it’s okay to push to get things done, but always do it with love and compassion,” counseled Minardi.

Next, trailblazing journalist Mimi Sheraton came on stage, marking her third appearance at Jubilee. The first female restaurant critic of The New York Times, Sheraton gave a talk entitled “The Way It Was” about female chefs in the early 1980s. Her verdict: those who owned their restaurants had more control over their lives and careers, as it

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CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT:

MIMI SHERATON; THE GREAT HALL; PADMA LAKSHMI AND MARTHA STEWART; OPEN TABLE'S OLIVIA TERENZIO; PIES BY FOUR & TWENTY BLACKBIRDS AND JEWELS OF NEW YORK; AMY CHAPLIN AND ANITA SHEPHERD; KAT KINSMAN; OUR AMAZING VOLUNTEERS; THE "BOSS" PANEL; THE AMERICAN EXPRESS BREAKFAST WITH FOOD BY DIMES; MELISSA HEMSLEY, YANA GILBUENA, AND JASMINE HEMSLEY.

was very hard back then for women to get hired as chefs. Fortunately, New York is a better place today for female talent, as several of the city’s top kitchens are led by women. Five much buzzed-about female chefs talked about this in the panel that followed, “New York’s Next Wave.” Melissa Clark, cookbook author and New York Times columnist, led the conversation with chefs Chloe Coscarelli of By Chloe, Adrienne Cheatham of Red Rooster Harlem, Emma Bentsson of Aquavit, Alissa Wagner of Dimes, and Angela Dimayuga of Mission Chinese Food. The critically acclaimed Bentsson talked about the need for visible role models. “I’m trying to put myself out there more. I really want to encourage women coming up in the industry that it’s possible,” she said. “Growing up, I had one female chef in Sweden to look up to. That was it. In the entire country.”

the food and drink as the conversation, so we put as much thought into the day’s menu as we do the speaker roster. This year, the conference kicked off with a networking breakfast hosted by American Express and featuring bites from Dimes, the popular Manhattan café founded by Alissa Wagner and Sabrina De Sousa. No surprise, their “Love Toast” tartines, topped with tahini, honey, raspberries, and mint, were the first things to go. The attendees who arrived bright and early were especially happy to try the hot or cold coffee options from Stumptown Coffee Roasters and the different teas from T2 Tea, an Australian brand that recently expanded to America. For lunch, we worked with Dig Inn, a fast casual brand in Manhattan and Boston focused on serving seasonal, mindfully-sourced food. Guests could choose from different salads, the most popular being coconut-oil poached sockeye salmon with roasted fennel sauce, Japanese sweet potato, yellow wax beans, pickled beets, and rosewater vinaigrette. The crew from Health-Ade Kombucha of California poured different flavors of their probiotic tea, including Sweet Thorn and Power Greens.

Top Chef’s Padma Lakshmi returned for the second year in a row, for a book signing and to read from her new memoir, Love, Loss, and What We Ate. She shared an excerpt about her time in India with her grandmother, Rajima, and her grandfather, KCK, and which of the two ruled the household. “Rajima kept a low profile and rarely contradicted her husband outside the bedroom,” she read. “But in the privacy of that room, from our place on the floor, [my aunt] Neela and I heard her speak her mind. We learned who really held the seat of power in our family.”

One of the most anticipated parts of the day is the Snack Break session. To shake things up this year, we worked with Elly Truesdell, the Northeast Regional Local Forager for Whole Foods MARTHA STEWART, AT THE HIGH LINE HOTEL, WAS THE FINAL Market, and put together SPEAKER OF THE DAY. PHOTO BY ABBY CIUCIAS. “teams” to collaborate on For the final talk of the day, unique creations. Emily and the ultimate girl boss, Martha Stewart, was interviewed by Melissa Elsen of Four & Twenty Blackbirds paired up with Cherry Bombe editorial director Kerry Diamond. Stewart Diana Yen of The Jewels of New York to make mini pies, was honest, funny, and emotional. She urged the audiincluding a matcha custard option. Colorful grindstone ence to always be curious, spoke about wishing she had rye toasts from Hot Bread Kitchen and baker Lexie Smith had more children, and mused aloud about her desire for were topped with miso cashew butter, beet honey, and more time. “As you get older, time becomes much more poached kumquats. Amy Chaplin, the vegan chef, teamed precious and it’s flying by,” she said. And as only Martha up with Anita Shepherd, founder of Anita’s Creamline Stewart could, she put a new spin on the tricky topic of Coconut Yogurt, to make bright yellow parfaits layered balance. “It’s hard to have it all,” she said. “But it’s very with turmeric pear coconut yogurt, pistachio crumbs, and matcha powder. Cookbook author Klancy Miller and Salimportant to have as much of it as you can.” vatore Ricotta’s founder Betsy Devine worked together on cannolis made with a lighter-than-air creamy filling. Ovenly founders Agatha Kulaga and Erin Patinkin and photographer and cookbook author Yossy Arefi colEAT, DRINK, AND BE CHERRY laborated on tahini-swirl brownies and rhubarb thumbprint cookies. Erin McKenna of Erin McKenna’s Bakery We always want our Jubilee guests to be as nourished by and D.J./pastry chef Justine D. surprised everybody with

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CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT: RYE-

KUMQUAT TARTINES FROM HOT BREAD KITCHEN AND LEXIE SMITH; LUNCH BY DIG INN; THE JUBILEE NEON SIGN; CHERRY BOMBE CAKEBALLS; PERSONALIZED LOAF FROM HOT BREAD KITCHEN; ERIN MCKENNA AND JUSTINE D.; CHAMPAGNE FROM TAITTINGER; THE FARM PANEL; MELISSA CLARK; THE CHEF PANEL; ELLY TRUESDELL OF WHOLE FOODS MARKET.

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Bombes.” These chocolate-dipped cake balls were sprinkled with edible red luster dust and decorated with candy stems and leaves. Almost too fabulous to eat, they were the most Instagrammed items of the day. And just so everyone had one last chance to connect, we finished the day with a networking reception with Culinary Agents. There were flutes of Brut La Francaise from Champagne Taittinger for toasting new friends, and platters of American farmstead cheeses specially selected by cheesemonger Anne Saxelby to go with the bubbly. Vosges Haut-Chocolat supplied a spread of exotic candies, including their Olio d’Oliva truffles made with Tuscan olive oil, white chocolate, and green olives. More Taittinger was poured later that evening as the Cherry Bombe team and the conference speakers celebrated at an intimate party hosted by OpenTable at the Dirt Candy vegetarian restaurant. Chef Amanda Cohen served some of her most popular items, including carrot sliders and mini broccoli dogs. We ate, drank, and slipped out into the night, happy but sad another Jubilee had come to a close. Reporting by Kerry Diamond, Gillie Houston, and Donna Yen. To hear all the Jubilee talks, check out the Radio Cherry Bombe podcast on iTunes.

CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT: KLANCY MILLER; LEITI HSU AND EMSHIKA

ALBERINI; PRIYA KRISHNA AND PADMA LAKSHMI; THE SPEAKER GOODIE BAG; ERIN FAIRBANKS; AND BUBBLY AND ROSES FROM TAITTINGER.

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Issue # 8

RESTAURANT GUIDE CALIFORNIA

LOUISIANA

NORTH CAROLINA

GUERNEVILLE

NEW ORLEANS

ASHEVILLE

NIMBLE & FINN’S 16290 Main Street nimbleandfinns.com

DOOKY CHASE’S RESTAURANT 2301 Orleans Avenue dookychaserestaurant.com

CÚRATE 11 Biltmore Avenue heirloomhg.com/curate NIGHTBELL 32 S. Lexington Avenue heirloomhg.com/nightbell

LOS ANGELES MOON JUICE 507 Rose Avenue moonjuiceshop.com OSTERIA MOZZA 6602 Melrose Avenue osteriamozza.com PIZZERIA MOZZA 641 N. Highland Avenue pizzeriamozza.com

SAN FRANCISCO MIETTE 449 Octavia Street miette.com TARTINE BAKERY 600 Guerrero Street tartinebakery.com

NEW YORK BROOKLYN QUEEN OF FALAFEL 2 Wyckoff Avenue queenfalafel.com S,T CAFÉ 343 Tompkins Avenue sincerelytommy.com

MANHATTAN

JOULE COFFEE & TABLE 223 S. Wilmington Street ac-restaurants.com/joule POOLE’S DOWNTOWN DINER 426 S. McDowell Street ac-restaurants.com/pooles

KINSTON

OREGON

BOILER ROOM OYSTER BAR 108 W. North Street vivianhoward.com/ boiler-room/

PORTLAND BEAST 5425 NE 30th Avenue beastpdx.com

CHEF & THE FARMER 120 W. Gordon Street vivianhoward.com/ chef-the-farmer/

TEXAS MARFA

THE BRESLIN 16 W. 29th Street thebreslin.com

RALEIGH DEATH & TAXES 105 W. Hargett Street ac-restaurants.com/ death-taxes

THE JOHN DORY OYSTER BAR 1196 Broadway thejohndory.com

FOX LIQUOR BAR 237 S. Wilmington Street ac-restaurants.com/fox

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PIZZA FOUNDATION 305 S. Spring Street pizzafoundation.com THE GET GO 208 S. Dean Street mirthmarfa.com/thegetgo

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LAST CALL

Sneak Peek: The Cherry Bombe team is working on a cookbook! Over the past several months, weâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve been gathering and testing recipes from our favorite gals on the food scene. As you can imagine, our tiny kitchens got quite the workout. All the recipes have beautiful stories behind them, as they have been handed down generation to generation, shared from friend to friend, or discovered during personal journeys. The Cherry Bombe Cookbook will be out in fall 2017 from Clarkson Potter. We canâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t wait to share it with you.

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ROCK LOBSTER Issue # 8

US $20.00 CAN $30.00

Feast Your Eyes

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