The Taste Issue by Eide Magazine

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THE BEST SOUTHERN

FOOD CRAVINGS DECADENCE IN FASHION

Extravagant Gowns, Plush Knits and Couture Sneakers Stephanie Szostak talks

SATISFACTION

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noun, plural of ei·dos [ahy-dee]. The distinctive and formal expression of the cognitive or intellectual character of a culture or social group. It is the essence of each thing and its primary substance.

Tova Gelfond EDITOR-IN-CHIEF/ CREATIVE DIRECTOR

Craig Rosenberg CFO

Avi Gelfond ART DIRECTOR

Jaime Lin Weinstein SENIOR EDITOR

Tian Justman FASHION DIRECTOR

Christina Montford EDITORIAL ASSISTANT

Charlie Watts STAFF PHOTOGRAPHER

Alisa Hutchinson ASSISTANT STYLIST

Joanna Berliner, Victoria Knight Borges, Ashley Brechtel, Todd Cooke, Jess Graves, Bonnie Herring, Austin Holt, Jennifer Smith Williams, Gina Yu and Jason Zygmont CONTRIBUTING WRITERS

Colby Blount, Max Eremine, Julia Gartland, Jimmy Johnston, Ian McFarlane, Kathryn Prescott, David Rams and JR West CONTRIBUTING PHOTOGRAPHERS

Malika Gumpangkum, Brooke Hutchins and Meghan Jackson EDITORIAL INTERNS

Abigail Lambert and Paula Peters DESIGN INTERNS

Jessica Bell, Curtis Carter and Laura Henry FASHION INTERNS

Sheyda Mehrara PUBLIC RELATIONS INTERN

© Enlightenmint Media Group, LLC 2014. All rights reserved. No part of this magazine may be used or reproduced without the written permission of the publisher Enlightenmint Media Group. The views expressed in Eidé Magazine are those of the respective contributors and are not necessarily shared by the magazine or its staff. The registered office of Enlightenmint Media Group is at 1200 Foster Street NW, Suite 20, Atlanta, Ga 30318. All information contained in the magazine is for information only and is as far as we are aware, correct at the time of going to press. Enlightenmint Media cannot accept any responsibility for errors or inaccuracies in such information. Readers are advised to contact manufacturers and retailers directly with regard to the price of products/services referred to in this magazine. If you submit unsolicited material to us, you automatically grant Enlightenmint Media a license to publish your submission in whole, or in part, in all editions of the magazine, including licensed editions worldwide and in any physical or digital format throughout the world. Any material you submit is sent at your risk and, although every care is taken, neither Enlightenmint Media nor its employees, agents, or subcontractors shall be liable for loss or damage. Published six times a year by Enlightenmint Media Group, LLC 1200 Foster Street NW, Suite 20, Atlanta, Ga 30318

Kevin Bragg Mixologist Seven Lamps

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CONTRIBUTORS KATIE BALLARD DAVID RAMS 1 Katie 4 David Ballard is a freelance makeup artist and hair stylist Rams has worked with some of culture’s biggest

JESS GRAVES 3 Jess Graves spends most of her days nestled in Atlanta, Ga.

with her lovable mutt, Maggie. After six years in art direction — specializing in retail and hospitality branding since 2007 — she became the first-ever creative director of Shops Around Lenox, a premier boutique shopping and dining district in the Buckhead neighborhood of Atlanta. She recently left to focus full-time on freelance writing and design projects. Named one of the “75 Most Stylish Southerners” by Southern Living magazine in 2014, Eidé is thrilled to have Graves shed light on her own personal taste for this issue. (jessicanellgraves.com)

Francisco who aspires to be a master fashion photographer. Because of her passion for dessert and cutlery, however, she doubles as a food photographer, specializing in eating her sets after each shoot. “Working with Eidé is a continuously evolving mystery,” she says. “One day I’m photographing bananas and the next, someone is throwing knives at me. Simply put, it is the best.” (charliewattsphotography.com)

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ON THE COVER STEPHANIE SZOSTAK Photography by DAVID RAMS Makeup by TRACY EWELL Hair Styling by TERI CLAIRBORNE Shot on location at Alan Castro’s private estate in Atlanta, Ga.

THE BEST SOUTHERN

FOOD CRAVINGS

REINVENT

Your Sense of Self

DECADENCE IN WHY FASHION WE RISK From the brain to the body

Extravagant Gowns, EVERYTHING Plush Knits and Couture Sneakers T H E F A S H I O N M A G A Z I N E O F T H E SO U T H

DISCOVER Stephanie Szostak

talks FROM FORAGING AND COOKING, TO CAMPING & SKYDIVING

SATISFACTION

Adventure THE TASTE ISSUE S U M M E R

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discovered his love for photography at a young age and further developed his natural talent by attending Atlanta’s Portfolio Center. After spending a year being mentored by photographer Liz Von Hoene and building an Atlanta client base, he relocated to New York to gain more experience and exposure in the fashion industry. On his editorial spread in this issue, “Wallflower,” he says: “I got to travel back to my beloved South and create one the most beautiful fashion stories I’ve been a part of. The team of amazing models, makeup and hair artists, as well as the unique pieces, truly helped create an amazing story.” (colbyblount.com)

CHARLIE WATTS 5 Charlie Watts is a bicoastal artist based in Atlanta and San

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icons over the past 30 years. His keen eye as a photographer has cultivated his work, which graces the pages of publications such as Playboy, Esquire and Interview magazines, to name a few. “Whether it was the ‘rock ‘n’ roll’ black-and-white theme or the sweet, playful sexiness, she went into character,” Rams explains of his shoot with actress Stephanie Szostak for this issue. “No, let me rephrase that: she became these characters. Or I think they were all just parts of her personality, and she invited them out to play for the sake of art. A true artist, a true actress.” (davidrams.com)

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specializing in fashion, commercial and film. In the last six years, she’s worked alongside some of the best in the industry as a senior stylist for Van Michael Salons and artistic director and educator for Ryder Make-Up Labs. Ballard has a natural talent for achieving the look desired, and her skill and detail-oriented eye make her work flawless. “My favorite part of this shoot was finding inspiration from our props!” Ballard says of her work for this issue’s “Lip Smackers.” “What better color palette is there to work with than that of exotic fruits and vegetables?!” (katie-ballard.com)

COFFEE TALK WITH OLIVER STRAND • MICROBIAL FASHION • DENIM ON DENIM PLAYING ROLLER DERBY • DESIGN WITH SMITH HANES & ALISA BARRY

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LETTER FROM THE

MAKING TASTE The word “tastemaker” has risen to new (albeit overused) heights in recent years. Everywhere you turn, another one pops up like Whac-AMole, a proud to be Instagram-enriched leader of a self-proclaimed movement. The tastemaker is the new kale, the fresh twerk; as common as YOLO; as frequent as selfies. In fact, there are 7.5 tastemakers born every minute in the United States. The first known use of this word was in 1954 — so there’s nothing particularly novel about it. The term, a logical progression of basic flattery, would become the ultimate identifier of standard-setters, embodying people with followers. Tastemakers were the first to experience, share and proclaim their love or abhorrence for fashion, food, art and any ol’ cultural movement that swung their way. But with the advent and increase of social media, don’t we all have followers? Fans? People at which to shout disdain and approval? This all seems counterintuitive to those who have come up in the fashion industry — like a timeless hierarchical labyrinth of haves and have-nots, where taste is a virtue that is bestowed at birth like a royal title. Lady Taste, Duchess of Fabric. There’s no arguing that some fortunate individuals have a knack for color, texture, pattern and compilation in ways all of us will spend decades trying to understand and emulate. But sometimes that’s merely our interpretation of their confidence coupled with a practiced body of work honed over a no-doubt secret trial-and-error period. The realm of food has classically been more open to accept new tastes, and to classify those with “good taste.” Critics and talent alike have taken the helm of eager palates without resistance, even if they have had humble beginnings. Anyone with a hunger for edibles need apply. Across the board, those running the five-minute mile in taste are the fastest because they are the strongest, the wisest, the most practiced —

and ultimately not afraid to run. But I have come to realize that to have taste is less about flavor or style and more about how you perceive that flavor and style to be. And perception is truly open to interpretation. While there are standards high and low that have been correlated over centuries of history, the interconnected world ahead has revealed a buildup of subcultures and subplots to our global story. All of which have their own preferences and perceptions. First to market and novelty of experience often become a matter of time zone instead of class, which has made tastemaking open to all. Though I deem taste to be two parts arbitrary, two parts learning, one part creativity with a dash of talent, your experience with it might be something else entirely. Because taste is deeply personal: a filtered version of your likes and dislikes. And it’s completely yours. Imagine that. If your taste is beloved by others, it might make you — dare I say it — a tastemaker. Complete with certificate, action figure not included. The word may hit cliché status, but your commitment to experiencing, learning and sharing never will. And that drive will always jettison a good maker of taste. No twerking necessary.

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TABLE OF CONTENTS: REAL SATISFACTION (92) Stephanie Szostak of USA’s new drama, “Satisfaction,” dishes on food, fashion and her journey to stardom.

SPICED FALL CRISP (18) With yellow peaches and raspberry. A recipe by Julia Gartland. FROM THE OLIVE BRANCH (22) Why olive oil deserves a place on your kitchen table. BAM! (28) Executive chef of Hugh Acheson’s 5&10 reflects on his culinary journey. BOUCHERIE (34) The barbecue game changer.

ELEMENTAL (38) Raw materials and structured fashion collide. GOING BANANAS (46) The household fruit is in trouble. DATA DINING (50) Dinner Lab challenges conventional notions of the eating experience. ONLY IN … (54) Hometown favorites that are few and far between anywhere but the South. COST PER CUT (62) Parsing out the hidden cost of cheap knives and the real value of quality cutlery. LIFE, MEANING AND THE UGLIEST PAINTING IN THE WORLD (66) Dissecting the nature and value of art in contemporary society. WALLFLOWER (72) Luxe wallcoverings and lavish gowns set the scene for something right out of a Renaissance-style painting.

THIS HERE’S THE CHAMBER CARTEL (88) Experimental soundscapes are their trade. THROUGH THE EYES OF KATHRYN PRESCOTT (100) MTV’s new star talks “Finding Carter,” photography and strong female characters. PARADISE ISLANDS (104) Your ideal vacation awaits in Turks and Caicos Islands.

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MEASURED IN STORIES (107) The evolution of recipe sharing. DAYTIME DIRTY (110) Unraveling the modern day soap opera. GABRIEL GARCÍA MÁRQUEZ, BANNED BOOKS & PORN (113) In other words, how one author showed that sex is art. KNIT PICKS (116) Menswear refreshes for fall with knit separates in unexpected styles. WHY SNEAKERS ARE THE NEW STILETTOS (124) How a casual lifestyle is shaping our fashion taste. FRINGE BENEFITS (128) How Southern charm and French class helped forge a new designer. KNOW THYSELF, BE THYSELF (132) Nine rules to achieving great personal style from Jess Graves. LIP SMACKERS (136) The link between what sustains us and beauty — inspiring colors are just the beginning.

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YSLOVE (146) Saint Laurent reminds us that a classic is never in bad taste.

eidé 6 ISSUES $35 DOLLARS EIDEMAGAZINE.COM/SHOP/SUBSCRIPTION

FOOD & BEVERAGE

(Gluten Free)

SPICED FALL CRISP with

YELLOW PEACHES & RASPBERRY

Recipe and Photography by JULIA GARTLAND

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TOPPING:

FILLING:

1 1/2 cups almond meal or flour 1/2 cup oat flour 1 cup rolled oats 1/2 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg 1/3 cup sugar 1 teaspoon cinnamon 1 stick butter, cubed and chilled

7 peaches, sliced 1 pint raspberries 1 teaspoon vanilla extract 2 tablespoons maple syrup 1 teaspoon lemon juice 1/3 cup brown sugar 2 tablespoons tapioca starch or cornstarch Pinch of cinnamon

Preheat oven to 350 F. In a large mixing bowl, whisk together first 6 ingredients. Using your hands, mix in cubed and chilled butter and combine well until butter is evenly distributed and batter is in clumps. Set aside.

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In another mixing bowl, combine peaches and raspberries with maple syrup, lemon juice and vanilla. Sprinkle in brown sugar, tapioca or cornstarch and cinnamon. Fold mixture together well, trying not to release too many of the fruitsâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; juices.

BAKING: Add filling to a greased 9 x 9-inch Pyrex baking dish. Sprinkle over oat toppings, making sure to evenly distribute and cover all the fruit. Top with a pinch of sprinkled brown sugar, raw sugar and freshly grated nutmeg. Bake for 30-35 minutes or until fruit juices begin to bubble up to the crisp topping. Serve warm and with a dollop of whipped cream or Ă la mode.

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FOOD & BEVERAGE

Why olive oil deserves a place on your kitchen table. Story by BROOKE HUTCHINS

EIDEMAGAZINE.COM

he lights begin to dim on a room full of wide-eyed experimenters, all sitting expectantly in rows with nothing in front of them but small, round, cobalt blue stemless glasses and a suited, bearded gentleman. The first image lights up the projector screen above him — rows of olive trees sitting atop rolling hills lining a breathtaking Tuscan landscape. “Welcome to the olive oil tasting symposium. I’m Nicholas Coleman, Chief Oleologist. Let’s get started.” With such a buzz surrounding the world of olive oil over the past decade, “oleologists,” experts like Coleman, have a lot to teach Americans about the way class-A extra virgin olive oil is supposed to taste (hint: nothing like the EVOO you swiped off the Kroger shelf last week). Condiment tasting and pairing, a long-standing European custom and epicurean leisure activity, has made its mark on

Photo by Nicholas Coleman

the olive oil community in America. With about 500 companies across the United States that offer olive oil tasting and pairing services, an increasing number of people are wanting to explore the endless possibilities of one of the world’s smallest, yet most powerful fruits — the olive. And with rumors of olive oil’s new title as “the next wine,” it is quickly catching up to the beloved grape. We know that olives grow on trees, which are then harvested to extract the oils that we drizzle on our pastas, breads and salads, but what happens before this liquid gold meets our plate? To answer this question, we must go back to the olive itself. Coleman, Chief Oleologist at New York City’s renowned Eataly restaurant, a certified olive oil taster from Italy’s premier olive oil tasting school and judge at the world’s most prestigious olive oil competition, gives us insight into the secret of creating high quality olive oil. It begins with growing healthy olive trees that are properly pruned, with an emphasis on minimizing the quantity of the olives, while maximizing the quality of these precious fruits. “As with the grapes that make wine,” Coleman says, “it’s all about coddling the olives from tree to mill in mint condition.” Coleman learned the art of olive oil production at the site of a small, 200-year-old Tuscan olive grove that prizes itself on the hand-picking, cleaning and pressing of olives for non-commercial

use. Jason Shaw, owner of Georgia Olive Farms, uses a different approach to ensure that his over 60 acres of olive trees in Lakeland, Ga. are treated with the utmost care before the oil ships off to 17 different states. “Along with intense pruning for a faster growth rate,” Shaw says, “our super-high density planting technique is also ideal for our large production.” This method is simpler than it sounds: essentially, a large, custom olive-harvesting machine carefully picks the fruits from the 15-foot trees and ensures that the ripe olives reach the mill as quickly as possible. The time in between the olive picking and its journey to the mill is something that both Coleman and Shaw agree on: the best oils are made from olives that don’t sit around for days after leaving the branch. If not rushed to the mill, they begin to lose their flavor — and “this is something that leads to noticeable defects, which can be later tasted in the oil,” Coleman explains.

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Now for the exciting part: the complex and scientific-like pressing of these tiny, lucky drupes. While every producer varies in how they choose to press their olives, often depending on the size of their operation, there are two main methods used: first cold pressed and first cold extraction. Slightly more traditional, the first cold pressed method crushes the olives with millstones, mixes the result into a paste and stacks this paste onto custom-made mats before it finally moves into the olive press — which stays at around 82 degrees Fahrenheit (not actually that cold). First cold extraction, on the other hand, is the more modern and popular method of olive pressing among larger producers due to the fact that it’s more sanitary, faster and cheaper, and does not oxidize the olive paste (change its chemistry). With this method, the olives are not crushed with millstones. Instead, they go through vacuums in which the solids are removed from the liquids, and the oil is separated from the water. Shaw’s unique mill setup boasts a centrifugation process in which a large, round decanter removes all solids and pits from the paste and separates the water from the oil through a mechanism that spins at 7,000 rpm — pretty high-tech stuff. “When it comes to producing olive oil,” Coleman says, “it’s all about respecting the olive.” He encourages people to think of the oil in terms of any other fruit juice. Just like fresh-squeezed orange juice, for example, the taste will be flat if care is not taken with every step of the process, from growing and harvesting, to bottling and storage. And just like any other product on the market, there are different levels of quality when it comes to the olive oils offered to today’s consumers. Experts agree that the average oils found in the local grocery store aisles are a far cry from those of small batch producers who artfully craft oils with a sense of care and meticulousness towards quality. But why does this gap exist? Shaw believes that it goes back to a problem with the quality of the U.S. olive oil standards and regulations. “People still don’t understand

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the difference between defective oil and fresh extra virgin — and that’s a problem,” he says. In an effort to raise the level of excellence in U.S. olive oil, Shaw and other producers have joined the American Olive Oil Producers Association and the Extra Virgin Alliance, two groups that push for the improvement of oil standards enforcement and testing within the market. “We are missing the element of education on the consumer side. This is something that the wine industry has, and we need to strive for it as well,” Shaw says. So how can you tell if the EVOO in your pantry is up to par? For starters, you can turn the bottle around and study its label. Pay attention to its country of origin. Oils made from a mix of eight to 10 different countries, as is typically the case with lower quality oils, are not going to be as fresh as those made in one country. It’s also a good idea to look at the harvesting date. If it’s been over a year since the olives left the branch, defective flavors have a better chance of making their way into the oil. And if you really want to impress your friends, one easy way to decipher fresh, class-A extra virgin oil is by its noticeably strong peppery sensation in the back of the throat. This pungency of flavor due to the natural antioxidants found in high quality oils often takes many Americans by surprise — simply because it’s not something we are used to tasting in our olive oils. Before you assume that all olives are pretty much the same, it might surprise you to hear that there are well over 1,000 local olive varieties and over 500 in Italy alone. Coleman is a firm believer that the “true beauty of olive oil lies in its regional diversity.” Because it is produced in all different parts of the world, from Spain to Tunisia, Australia and Chile, it connects communities of olive enthusiasts. “Within the global community of producers, no one oil is inherently best. It’s the regional uniqueness that gives each oil a rich character,” Coleman explains. The best example of this uniqueness might be within Italy, where the olives vary dramatically from region to region. Tuscany’s Frantoio olives release flavors of freshly cut grass with their sharp, pungent taste. On the other hand, Sicily’s Tonda Iblea olives smell and taste like fresh tomato leaves. Depending on the region’s microclimate and how quickly the olive matures, the oil’s flavors will vary. This means that two of the same olives grown in different regions will taste differently, resulting in the opportunity for rich diversity in the olive oil market. Even the variety produced in the Southern region of the United States, like those grown at Shaw’s Georgia Olive Farms, boast a one-of-a-kind, mild, buttery flavor.

Photo by Nicholas Coleman

WITHIN THE GLOBAL COMMUNITY OF PRODUCERS, NO ONE OIL IS INHERENTLY BEST. IT’S THE REGIONAL UNIQUENESS THAT GIVES EACH OIL A RICH CHARACTER.

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As the interest in olive oil’s limitless range of taste continues to grow, the excitement is mostly felt inside the specialty oil tasting rooms and shops popping up around the country. Blue Ridge Olive Oil Company, owned by Tom and Donna Harper, is catching the eye of tourists and olive oil enthusiasts with their over 70 unique flavors of oils and vinegars — all available to try and buy in their state-of-the-art tasting room. With 10 unique pure extra virgin oils from all around the world and 20 infused and special gourmet oils (white truffle or coconut oil, anyone?), crowds are gathering around their rows of beautiful silver vats to get a taste of these delicacies at all three locations — Blue Ridge and Ellijay, Ga. and Murphy, N.C. When it comes to creating new oil varieties, Donna Harper admits, “We get inspired by food and thinking about what would go well with fish, chicken, shrimp, ice cream … the possibilities are endless. And our customers are constantly telling us which foods they like to pair the oils with.” While some are hesitant about an afternoon of sipping on olive oil, the freedom of an open tasting room allows testers to really experiment with the flavors that they are naturally drawn towards. “People are typically very happy and surprised with the pleasant taste of the oils, especially since there are no preservatives or added sugars in any of our products,” Harper explains. While hundreds of these relaxed, “try it before you buy it” tasting facilities are sweeping the nation and giving olive oil a warm welcome in our kitchens, experts like Coleman enjoy taking a more sophisticated approach to the art of tasting. Before any oil is even poured, his educational events typically begin with a photo and video presentation showcasing the unique regions and pressing methods of each oil offered. But the first and most critical part of the tasting occurs before the liquid even hits the palate — in the nose. Coleman gives each member of his audience the blue stemless glass — an industry standard for all official oil judging — and pours the liquid inside. As the glass sits in the palm, the oil inside is naturally warmed and the volatile aromas begin to unlock with each swirl of the glass. “Smell is so essential to the experience,” Coleman urges. Hints of green apple, banana, almond, mint, fresh-cut grass and tomato leaves begin to release throughout the room. While many oils are often tasted with breads and other foods, Coleman encourages his audience to experience the liquid by itself, “spraying it to the

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back of the throat repeatedly while releasing the aromas and allowing all the nuances of the oil to rise to the surface.” This back-to-basics tasting method often produces that aforementioned peppery tickle in the back of the throat — a sure sign of quality. When it comes time to pair the oils with your favorite foods and wines, Coleman lays out two general guidelines: choose oils from the same regions that your food and wine hail from, and match the weight of your food with that of your oil. For instance, if you’re making a Sicilian dish, you would want to pair it with a Sicilian wine and olive oil in order to get the most accurate representation for that region. And if you’re cooking a heavy, robust meal, you’ll want to match the weight of that meal with a richer, more herbaceous oil to cut through the bold flavors. When in doubt, “Just listen to your own palate. Some prefer buttery and sweet, while others prefer robust and grassy. Olive oil is very personal.” And if the taste doesn’t sell you, then maybe the celebrated medicinal qualities will. Just two tablespoons a day of this good-for-you “fruit fat” has been proven to lower blood pressure, increase good cholesterol levels and even help with arthritis and Alzheimer’s Disease. It’s also one of the only items that people with all sorts of dietary restrictions (vegan, gluten allergies, lactose intolerant) can actually use. One thing’s for sure: you really can’t go wrong with olive oil when it comes to cooking. As the most foolproof tool for anyone who ventures into the kitchen — chef or amateur — it goes superbly with an endless amount of foods (even cakes and gelatos!). Coleman argues that, after salt, “Extra virgin olive oil is the most fundamental ingredient in the culinary world.” And Shaw agrees — after all, about half of Georgia Olive Farm’s production goes to farm-to-table restaurants that want to use the freshest oils available in their meals. For those that see the profound worth of the small, yet poignant olive, there is much more to olive oil than meets the eye. It’s about people. Community. Family. Harper has seen the ways that it has changed the dynamics of homelife firsthand. “Several customers come in and tell us that olive oil has literally changed their lives. People are having family dinners again. Kids are eating their vegetables because they actually taste good with a splash of olive oil,” she explains. And beyond the kitchen table, it has created an incredible community of educators. Every day, experts like Coleman see someone take a newfound understanding and appreciation of olive oil into their own community so that they can teach others about the way it is supposed to taste. As more and more people gather into crowded tasting rooms to try their hand at the epicurean custom of olive oil tasting, an exciting buzz beyond the hushed whispers of “Do you taste that hint of freshly cut grass?” has begun to spread. Olive oil is earning a well-deserved spot on our kitchen counters. Hell, we’ll all be oleologists before we know it.

Photos courtesy of Georgia Olive Farms.

SEVERAL CUSTOMERS COME IN AND TELL US THAT OLIVE OIL HAS LITERALLY CHANGED THEIR LIVES.

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BAM! FOOD & BEVERAGE

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Executive chef of Hugh Achesonâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s 5&10 reflects on his culinary journey. Story by JASON ZYGMONT | Photography by IAN MCFARLANE

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"Bam!” It all started with watching “Emeril Live” when I was 9 years old. “Garlic! Garlic! Yay!” The crowd what they were), rabbit, summer was fortunate to cook in a few would explode in joy as the no- succotash, raw oysters, buttermilk of the great Atlanta kitchens, torious chef added the seasoning pie; the list goes on. The meal too: Woodfire Grill, Restaurant to any dish. Emeril made me feel was dizzying and, at the time, I Eugene and Empire State South. the intensity of working the line didn’t fully understand what had I’ve cooked food I couldn’t have as I sat on the floor in front of the happened. I just realized that this imagined as a 16-year-old sittelevision screen. I remember feel- was something different than the ting in the original 5&10. But, ing heat sweep across my face as chain restaurants my friends’ par- the food isn’t what makes me he added sherry to a hot pan and ents usually took us to. The flavors proud of my accomplishments. set it ablaze in a sudden burst of were intense, and I walked out of The experiences, the community flames. I was in awe of the specta- the restaurant hypnotized by the and the tight relationships that cle, and it fed into an instinctual idea that food could be something I have built over the better part need. I knew I could cook before I more than just fuel. of a decade have meant so much cooked or tasted any of the things At that moment, I should have more than the day-to-day grind I drooled over. known food would be my life. I of living in kitchens. Besides these fantasies, my food didn’t. I finished high school; studIn Barcelona, on the balcony memories from childhood are pret- ied philosophy in college. Only of Restaurant Drolma, I stood ty run of the mill. My dad could when I needed a job did I final- watching as the Tour de France whip up a satisfying chicken stew ly set about working in a kitchen pedaled by, sipping a glass of and we would always have baked — something I had absolutely no champagne, not really believing shells with spicy sausage when we experience doing. I started work- where I was. In the test kitchen at went to visit my grandmother. My ing at Il Palio Ristorante inside the Noma, with the best chef in the mom always made me and my Siena Hotel in Chapel Hill, N.C. world, I considered a new dish of brother this brilliant potato, elderflower ice cream cake for THE FLAVORS WERE INTENSE, and miso — disour birthdays. She cussing the relative AND I WALKED OUT OF THE crushed up Oreos, strengths and weakmixed them with nesses of torching RESTAURANT HYPNOTIZED crunchy peanut butcedar and letting it BY THE IDEA THAT FOOD ter (this recipe is the smolder as the plate COULD BE SOMETHING MORE was walked through only proper use for crunchy rather than the dining room. In THAN JUST FUEL. creamy) and layered Atlanta, at Crack this mixture with Breyer’s vanilla Within a year, they promoted me in the Sidewalk Farmlet, I hudfudge ice cream. It was glorious. to sous chef, but I knew I was in dled under a makeshift tent with But I didn’t have exposure to any- no way qualified to run a kitchen. Ryan Smith (chef of the forththing of real gastronomic value un- I left, and began a 7-year journey coming Staplehouse), trying to til my brother went away to college armed with the desire to be a chef. not let the torrential downpour in Athens, Ga. Since then, I’ve travelled. ruin our butcher blocks of aged On one visit during his fresh- I’ve cooked at Noma, currently duck terrines, soft-boiled duck man year, my dad took us to ranked the No. 1 restaurant in eggs, butter poached morels and Hugh Acheson’s Southern fusion the world by Restaurant Maga- foraged herbs before they could restaurant, 5&10. The place had zine and Per Se, the best restau- hit the table. The dish was lovely, been open for just over a year and rant in the United States, and but it’s the last thing I remember Hugh was in full force behind the staged (kitchen parlance for about that day. We didn’t go down line. It was the first time I encoun- interning) in several kitchens in flames and at the end of it all we tered sweetbreads (my dad made throughout Barcelona. After had a story; something more than me eat them without telling me making the long trip home, I the food to hold onto.

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Chef Zygmont in the 5&10 kitchen.

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I haven’t always felt this way about my life in food.

rior to leaving Empire State South for Noma, I was, admittedly, the most arrogant cook in Atlanta. The only important thing in my mind was making sure every piece of fish I sent out had skin so crisp it shattered like glass and I didn’t care who I pissed off to make it happen. I thought I was the best. After cooking at some of the finest restaurants in the world, I realized that I’m not. Corey Chow, the executive sous chef at Per Se, blew me away when he brunoised three quarts of celery root in 15 minutes. I’ve seen flawlessness in Victoria Blamey, former sous chef of New York City’s Atera. She never made a mistake and devised incredibly clever technique. And no one has inspired me more than Matt Orlando, the head chef of Noma at the time, rallying the crew, running from station to station, making service succeed by sheer force of will. All of these chefs embody ambition and confidence, but what changed me was their humility. I saw in them what I wanted to become as a chef, and without this tremendous shift in attitude, Acheson never would have brought me on as the chef of his flagship restaurant. Acheson has an endless devotion to his community, and he has taught me to understand the word in a new way. After my experiences and coming back into his empire, I realize that what community really means is letting go of your ego and building something that doesn’t necessarily benefit you directly. Working on my night off, I host a charcuterie night at The Old Pal in Athens to expose new guests to an amazing bar that I love and want to see succeed. I’ve started volunteering at Clarke County Middle School, helping a small group of students utilize an amazingly diverse garden to put on lunches for their families and friends. Kemyrus Harris, one of the students, gained so much confidence in his abilities that he challenged me to a “crepe-off”; we tied. I see my community in these moments of tangible growth and specific successes. Community becomes a cliché when those who don’t contribute anything comment on its qualities. I won’t be that kind of person, and I hope to inspire a few on the outside to come in and get to work. It’s been a long, winding road back to 5&10. I have become the executive chef of the restaurant that taught me what food could be. Taking the reins of an establishment I have always had such respect for is daunting and has forced me to deeply consider the type of leader I’m going to become. I don’t want to be the kind of chef that throws plates, screams expletives and degrades my staff. I want to make my crew feel like that 9-year-old sitting, staring at the TV. I want them to have a passion that they don’t understand: to approach food with the same sense of wonder and awe that I had then. We work really hard to make our guests happy. The least we can do is enjoy doing it.

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FOOD & BEVERAGE

T H E

B A R B E C U E

G A M E

C H A N G E R

BOUCHERIE

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In the bed of a pickup truck, sweat poured from the brows of three men who gathered around a caged sow pig.

wo men held the pig from behind as the other held the gun. In an instant, the pig jolted and became dead weight. Not a word was said as the three pulled the carcass out of the cage, headfirst. The same man with the gun then sliced open its neck over a large, silver mixing bowl to drain the red liquid. Not a single ounce of the pig would be thrown away that day. Toby Rodriguez, Louisiana-based carpenter by day, sous chef of Lache Pas Boucherie et Cuisine by night, has performed many a boucherie (French for “butchery”) in his lifetime, including one for Anthony Bourdain’s “No Reservations.” To Rodriguez, the killing of a pig is a spiritual moment. “There’s definitely a level of fear during the boucherie process,” he explains. “During it, people are extremely moved. Something is sacrificing its life for us. There’s some sort of blessing over this. For about 10 to 20 minutes, there’s no talking.”

Story by VICTORIA KNIGHT BORGES | Photography by DENNY COLBERT P R E - FA L L 2 0 1 4

he practice of a boucherie has existed since the moment humans figured out they were carnivores. In the Southeast, specifically, the tradition of the boucherie was brought over from Nova Scotia. The practice formed with the help of German, Irish and Caribbean immigrants and has evolved into what it is today — a party for the sole purpose of cooking and consuming an entire animal, in many cases a pig. Traditionally, boucheries took place in the late fall, so meats could be preserved during the cold season.

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During a period when electricity was scarce, time was of the essence for meat preservation. Because an entire pig was more than enough food for a family and the boucherie process was physically impossible for any one person, farmers sought the help of the community — individuals looking for work to feed their families. Today, boucheries have been reintroduced into the culinary world as a farm-to-table trend, sourcing meat locally, supporting community farming efforts and rediscovering the simplicity of a

fresh piece of meat. Chef Nicholas Alicea, former chef de cuisine at BLT Steak Atlanta, incorporated the iconic practice into a boucherie tasting series. Alicea grew up in a commune in northern Europe where the community grew their own food and raised and butchered their own meats. “What I learned while living in Denmark is how important it is to know where your food comes from,” he says. “It’s one thing to get a piece of meat or animal from the grocery store or even a local butchery; you have no connection to where the animal came from.

When you raise an animal, you can understand that its purpose is to provide for the family — that’s important. This concept is what I wanted to incorporate into BLT Steak Atlanta.” Beyond the culinary revival, boucheries are transforming the way people think about the South. “Boucheries are our culture’s most genuine expression of the farm-to-table movement,” says Rodriguez. “The South is getting the recognition behind the integrity of its food. We are finally outgrowing the stigma

of the red-checkered picnic. Yes, we can make great fried alligator or fried chicken, but we can also make amazing grattons and boudin.”

using the whole animal and seasonal ingredients to create interesting and exciting dishes for our guests,” he says. “BLT Steak prides itself on sourcing from local farms as much as possible.” “The boucherie practice was almost extinct until a few years ago,” Rodriguez adds. “While it’s important that this kind of culture evolves and doesn’t remain isolated — it’s also important that we hold on to traditions. This brings us back to our roots, and we can’t let go of that.”

THE BOUCHERIE PRACTICE WAS ALMOST EXTINCT UNTIL A FEW YEARS AGO Chef Joseph Macy, current chef de cuisine at BLT Steak Atlanta, couldn’t agree more. “Boucherie is about showcasing the quality of the meat and sustainable, lesser-known cuts, and

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ELE MEN TAL Photography by COLBY BLOUNT Styling by BELINDA MARTIN Model: KRISTIN RATCLIFFE for New York Models Hair and Makeup by KATY ALBRIGHT Assistant Stylist: MICHAEL BRADY

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Dress and Jacket: Robert Rodriguez Shoes: Stylist’s Own

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Dress: Tracy Reese Shoes: Calvin Klein

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Blouse: Harare Skirt: Harare Hat: Stylistâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Own

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Dress: Ted Baker (Following page) Jacket: MiH Jeans Earrings: Stylistâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Own

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FOOD & BEVERAGE

Story by GINA YU | Photography by CHARLIE WATTS

GOING BANANAS THE HOUSEHOLD FRUIT IS IN TROUBLE

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hink banana pudding. Ooey, creamy, comforting to the core. Then think banana bread. Cinnamon and chocolate chips; the works. Now take a step back and think about the banana itself. Unlike apples, where there are Fuji, Gala, Golden Delicious and the classic McIntosh, there isnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t a second thought to picking up a bundle at the store. Yellow, crescent-shaped, predictable in flavor â&#x20AC;&#x201D; it tastes like a banana, feels like a banana and smells like a banana. But what does that even mean? P R E - FA L L 2 0 1 4

I T M E A N S T H A T W E C O N S U M E A VA R I E T Y O F B A N A N A T H AT I S H A R V E S T E D A N D P R O D U C E D I N A W AY T H A T Y O U , M E A N D Y O U R N E I G H B O R ’ S B R O T H E R I N A L A B A M A A L L G E T W H AT W E E X P E C T. MASS PRODUCED AND MASS DISTRIBUTED. No, bananas aren’t manufactured in steel factories, painted in taffy-yellow lacquer then shipped out — though it’s starting to feel that way. Corporations like Del Monte, Dole and Chiquita thrive on an agricultural process called monoculture. Providing sprawling strands of an identical breed of crop, the process is more efficient and economical, but it doesn't necessarily make sense ... or taste very good. Let’s take it back again. Back to the first half of the 1900s. There was “Big Mike.” The first variety of banana to be cultivated on a large scale; it was the banana that our grandmothers and grandfathers knew. More flavorful than the bananas on the market now, this was the monoculture banana of the 20th century, known otherwise as Gros Michel. Big Mike was loved by many. The banana symbolized the success of taking a produce, growing plots and plots of the same crop, letting it sit in massive bins, travel across the world, then endure sitting on grocery store shelves and household banana hangers for weeks. But then it didn’t. A Panamanian disease called Tropical Race One (TR1) virtually wiped out the entire breed. The pathogen wilted leaves and infected plants from the inside until they toppled over and died. As the corporations saw their fields rot and crops fail, they moved from Costa Rica to Guatemala, then to Colombia and Ecuador, and the invasive fungi followed until the Gros Michel banana was nearly extinct. Mike Peed wrote in The New Yorker that the global South actually grows and consumes around 1,000 varieties of bananas. But the vast majority isn’t what the banana export market supports. A little over 80 percent of bananas are consumed right in the region they are grown. The bunches tend to be small

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with thin skin, basically inappropriate for travel — especially thousands of miles across the world. So what exactly are we eating now? The Cavendish. Portable, capable of mass yields and about 99 percent of all exported bananas today. The variety was chosen to resist TR1, though sacrificing in flavor and texture. Not many noticed the difference. But like any virus you avoid, things only get worse: enter Tropical Race Four (TR4). It’s stronger, quicker and affects more varieties of bananas. TR4 infects a plant’s vascular system, strangling their water and nutrient supply, restricting their ability to carry out photosynthesis. The fruits are stunted and eventually die. It’s insanely contagious. Whatever comes in contact with the contaminated dirt can carry the fungus to other crops, and the spores left by dead plants can survive for decades.

Peed notes that scientists say the fungus has been in the soil for thousands of years. It just took the planting of identical fields of Cavendish to unleash it. As terrifying as the blight is, it isn’t the problem. It’s the export market that supports monoculture. Dan Koeppel, author of “Banana: The Fate of the Fruit that Changed the World,” says the solution is in genetic modification. Scientists are working to incorporate the hepatitis B vaccine and

more vitamin A from fish. The simple version of this history lesson goes as follows: one banana was mass produced, it died by virus, so another, tougher one was mass produced, which awakened a stronger version of the virus, and now the options are down to genetically altering the fruit (then mass producing more of them) or bio-diversifying. GMO’s aside, the global conversation isn’t about the bananas. It’s about hunger. In an attempt to “efficiently” feed populations with monocultural agriculture, organizations are struggling to find solutions for rice and potatoes as well. So many farms are going back to the roots of how things used to be, planting multiple types of crops together (and with more varieties). This way, plants are stronger. Studies have shown that when planted near differing varieties, the plants have a better immune system — sans fish genes. And it’s more economical. The plots are filled yearround with seasonal crops, instead of leaving them bare for half the year, and this creates healthy competition for the roots. Trying to absorb maximum soil, the roots become thicker and able to produce robust crops (and more of them, too). Planting the same crop next to each other, over and over, exhausts the soil of its particular nutrients. But get varieties together, and the product adapts and fights off harsh climate changes and sweeping diseases. Whatever happens to the banana, pay attention. The Gros Michel isn’t around anymore, but the world deserves more than what is becoming gross. For the great love of banana pudding, keep an eye on them, because in the next years, they are about to dramatically change, or disappear from the grocery store altogether.

FOOD & BEVERAGE

Data DINNER LAB CHALLENGES CONVENTIONAL NOTIONS OF T H E E AT I N G E X P E R I E N C E

Story by JAIME LIN WEINSTEIN | Photography by CHARLIE WATTS

n these times of underground supper clubs, monthly mystery dinners and rodizio-style restaurants like Kevin Gillespie’s Gunshow, variations on the traditional edible experience have become commonplace — not just among culinary connoisseurs, but on the calendar of everyday diners. Even still, Dinner Lab, it seems, has cornered the market on today’s experimental dining. “We need to get a membership!” a woman across the table says to her husband as we (approximately 50 diners) take a seat, before the first course has even been served. It’s springtime in Atlanta, and we’ve been

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sipping cocktails on the main porch of the Goat Farm Arts Center, a renovated 19th century industrial complex where artists, creative entities and small tech startups now reside — in addition to the goats. Plus a llama, two donkeys and a flock of rather vocal chickens. (Full disclosure: Eidé Magazine happens to be headquartered here, too.) This is Dinner Lab’s latest unconventional dining location in Atlanta — one of 10 current markets including Austin, Nashville, New York and L.A. Previous meals have been served in an empty warehouse, an underground art gallery, a boxing arena and even a helipad.

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ptly named, the concept does have similarities to a scientific experiment — data analysis included. It basically works like this: you buy a membership, which costs between $100 to $200 depending on your city, and that gives you access to the calendar of events across the country. Members can then purchase up to two tickets to an event in any city ($50 to $95 each, which includes at least five courses, tip and unlimited alcohol) where food is the medium for strangers to dine around common tables and share cuisine crafted by up-and-coming chefs. Here comes the laboratory part: Diners are asked to complete comment cards during the meal that rate dishes based on taste, creativity and drink

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pairings, allowing the chefs to tweak recipes and improve on their menu concepts. It all feels a little bit like one of those nerve-racking cooking competitions where chefs are thrown into a new environment and asked to create a meal for a room full of critics, but with more preparation and less stress. (The critics are local residents after all, not the likes of celebrity chef Tom Colicchio. And no one is kicked off at the end of the night.) The social dining experiment has grown exponentially since its debut in New Orleans in 2012, and now they’re using their platform for a new project: the Dinner Lab Tour. Nine chefs will be bringing their menu to events — also open to non-members — in all 10 cities and at the end, those little feedback cards will be used to de-

duce which menu was most successful in which market, and provide one chef with the funding to open their own brick-and-mortar restaurant in that locale. “It’s the first data-driven restaurant concept,” explains Brittany Norton, New Market Development Manager. And in a world of devastating restaurant mortality rates, it appears a smart alternative to the current restaurateur-driven business model. Chef Daniel Espinoza (The Drawing Room, Mexique, Carmichael’s Steak House, all in Chicago; Bistro des Saveurs, France; The Ausable Club, Upstate N.Y.) is the contender serving up dinner at this stop of the tour. “Welcome to my Mexican fiesta,” he says before explaining the menu he prepared, which included Tlayuda, a chicken carnitas flatbread

that I couldn’t have devoured faster, and “Deep in Cider” — “Yeah, it’s a sexual pun,” Espinoza quips — apple mousse with cider cajeta gelée, walnut compote and cinnamon churros. Espinoza was chatting with guests so sincerely throughout the meal that, but for the apron, one might not have believed he was the chef. He even offered the recipe for his requeson cheese (that came paired with purslane, beets and pepitas for the second course) when the man sitting next to me inquired about the sweet, creaminess of the dairy product that he had never tasted before. It’s all indicative of another feature of the Dinner Tour, and Dinner Lab events in general, that the modern diner has come to appreciate: intimacy. Counter seating, open kitchens

and chef ’s tables may not be new to the culinary scene, but now we want our cooks even closer. No longer relegated to the kitchen, Dinner Lab chefs personally present each of their dishes to the guests themselves, and are available to talk with diners about them, offering a greater sense of connection between the artist and the consumer. In which case Espinoza gets bonus points — he provided his own playlist for our dinner, which included a mix of traditional music from Mexico and rap from Kanye West — “Hey, I was born and raised in Chicago,” he jokes, clarifying the dichotomy. But you can’t eat the scenery, or the chef, or the music, and Dinner Lab makes sure that the food impresses as well. “If food doesn't

make you smile and happy, I think you’re eating the wrong things,” Espinoza concisely reasons at one point during the night. He definite-

“IT’S THE FIRST DATA-DRIVEN RESTAURANT CONCEPT,” ly prepared the right things for this event. At the end of the evening, after having enjoyed our meal, we were all rooting for Espinoza and hoping he would get the chance to open a restaurant in town. And the overeager diner across the table still wanted to get that membership.

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Story by ASHLEY BRECHTEL, BROOKE HUTCHINS & CHRISTINA MONTFORD

FOOD & BEVERAGE

A LOOK AT HOMETOWN FAVORITES THAT ARE FEW AND FAR BETWEEN ANYWHERE BUT THE SOUTH.

he sticky, sweet taste of a popsicle from the Mom and Pop corner store. That first bite of greasy goodness of a burger from your hometown drive-through. The last slice of cake from the bake shop owned by your mom’s best friend. These things are your childhood — they shaped your tastes and helped raise you. You loved them and that didn’t go away just because you grew up. No, even as you moved on to bigger and better places, these meals still made you salivate just thinking about them on the plane ride home. Every town has its delicacy. The “thing” that you can only get down the street and to the right, if you ask one of the natives. We’ve rounded up a few of these specialty items from the South that are guaranteed to bring you right back to those days on your grandma’s porch. So, strap in, ’cause your taste buds are going home.

Alabama

Florida

Alabama Sunshine Hot Sauce

Kermit’s Key West Key Lime Pie Shoppe

In the South, we like it hot. We are talking balls-to-the-wall, need-a-glass-ofwater spicy. And if you’re from Fayette, Ala., then you know hot, because you grew up with Fred and Sally Smith and their Alabama Sunshine Hot Sauce. Fred began making this special sauce from the peppers in his backyard for his friends and family. Fast-forward to today, and this fiery condiment is a well-known favorite. If you’re not in town, you can get your spicy fix by ordering it online. (alabamasunshine.com)

You may be able to enjoy a slice of key lime pie in a New York City diner, but it’s just not going to be the same as going down South — way down South. Kermit’s Key West Key Lime Shoppe is home to all things key lime, from cookies and salsa to tea and olive oil and, of course, their renowned key lime pie. Awarded the best of its kind by the Food Network, Kermit’s pies just have that extra tart sweetness that cannot be matched. The secret? Using the fruit of a key lime tree, not the traditional limes you find in most grocery stores. (keylimeshop.com)

Avondale Brewing If you’re sitting on a porch throwing back a cold Miss Fancy’s Tripel, then chances are you’re in Birmingham, Ala. Each of Avondale’s unique brews is inspired by some piece of the rich Avondale history: the labels of all six beers are relics that tell the stories of this quirky city with each twist of the cap — like the resident ‘Miss Fancy’ elephant that once roamed the streets. As they like to say at Avondale, “Trunks Up!” (avondalebrewing.com)

Joe’s Stone Crab Although it began as a humble lunch counter nestled on the shore of Miami Beach in 1913, Joe’s Stone Crab is responsible for pioneering the movement of stone crab on the menus of restaurants everywhere. It all started one day when a Harvard marine biologist questioned if the restaurant owner had ever thought to cook up the abundant stone crabs found on the Miami shore, and the rest is history. With dining guests from Frank Sinatra to Jennifer Lopez, Joe’s Stone Crab has continued with its proud tradition for over 100 years. (joesstonecrab.com) P R E - FA L L 2 0 1 4

Georgia King of Pops There is nothing quite like those oppressively hot 90-degree summer days in Georgia, and when that temperature rises, we’re all looking for a little relief. Thankfully, there’s King of Pops to help us cool down. These fresh, all natural ice pops can be spotted all over Atlanta; Festivals, grocery stores and even popular restaurants are giving Atlantans their fix of frozen heaven. Move away and you’d be hardpressed to find a Banana Puddin’ popsicle (with pieces of Nilla wafers inside!) or a Blackberry Ginger Lemonade pop (sweetened with organic cane sugar, of course). The masterminds behind these summery treats search through South Asia, South America and Europe for the most authentic ingredients to ensure that every product wrapped in that familiar popsicle-crowned logo surpasses expectation. (kingofpops.net) The Varsity Want to eat greasy comfort food at the world’s largest drive-in fast-food establishment? You’ll have to be in Atlanta, Ga. With their signature paper hats and iconic Frosted Orange, The Varsity is a staple to anyone who calls Atlanta home. From the moment you walk in and the people behind the counter yell, “What’ll ya have?” you’re in for a true Southern experience that no place north of the Mason Dixon could offer. Try to order two chili dogs, a fried pie and a Frosted Orange in Boston or Seattle. Not gonna happen. (thevarsity.com)

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Louisiana

Mississippi

Elmer’s Chee Wees

Scott’s Hot Tamales

Affectionately known as “The Big Cheese of New Orleans,” Elmer’s Chee Wees are flavor-packed cheese curls with Bar-BQue, Green Onion, Hot-N-Spicy and Jalepeno varieties. If you’ve ever lived in New Orleans and moved away, you know just how impossible it is to find your Chee Wees anywhere else. The company’s owners are the fifth generation of the Elmer family to go into the food manufacturing business in New Orleans. We hope this long-standing tradition means that our beloved Chee Wees aren’t going anywhere. (elmerscheewees.com)

It doesn’t get more personal than a friendly face smiling behind a small roadside stand in Greenville, Miss. Scott’s Hot Tamales is just that, offering award-winning tamales made with beef brisket, cornmeal and their one-of-a-kind secret seasoning. The steaming tamales are individually hand-wrapped in corn shucks and waiting for you in Mississippi, where they’ve been doling out tamales since 1950. (scottshottamales.com)

Barq’s Red Creme Soda While Barq’s Root Beer has made a name for itself nationwide, the authentic Red Creme Soda flavor is nearly impossible to find outside of Louisiana. Sure, you may occasionally spot it along the Mississippi Gulf Coast, but this creamy, carbonated treat flows bountifully in good ol’ Nawlins and surrounding parishes. If you’re lucky enough to spot this unique flavor, we suggest you grab a few cases. (barqs.com)

The Crown A Magnolia State tradition, this Indianola, Miss. restaurant has drawn crowds with their “New Southern” cuisine for generations. The Crown’s main dish specialties change weekly, with each plate taking a new spin on Southern classics. You can’t leave without trying their famous Catfish Allison, a twist on the typically fried dish with poached farm-raised catfish fillet gratinéed with parmesan cheese, butter and green onion sauce. Save room for dessert — you’ll be invited to try a bite of each of their six homemade pies. (thecrownrestaraunt.com)

North Carolina Biscuitville With over 20 locations dotted all over North Carolina, Biscuitville is a biscuit lover’s heaven. And we’re not talking about just any biscuit. They’ve got the buttery, golden kind filled with a delicious helping of any combination you can dream of: savory ham, eggs, bacon, chicken, sausage, etc. Forty years after they opened their doors with the simple goal of serving up fresh, homemade biscuits, Biscuitville now uses about 28,600 pounds of flour a week to keep their well-earned place in their loyal customers’ morning routines. (biscuitville.com) Bakers’ Peanuts The Baker family has taken a circus treat and turned it into a Southern delicacy. From their Carolina Cajun Peanuts to their Redskin Peanuts, Bakers’ Peanuts has thought of every possible way to bring these snacks to the next level. And in true Southern fashion, they even have a fried peanut option. You can devour these gourmet legumes at select locations across the South or order them online. (bakerspeanuts.com)

South Carolina Confederate Jasmine Bitters Talk about local — Confederate Jasmine Bitters are made from actual confederate jasmine tree petals collected from Broad Street in Charleston, S.C. Created by Gram Howle, head bartender at Charleston’s renowned Husk Restaurant, the bitters were a way to add a little extra handcrafted, local flavor to his drinks. His list of bitters has since grown with the start up of his original Newtonian Beverage Company, which offers several different apothecary-esque flavors with an assortment of local roots, fruits and flowers. The bitters can be found at many Charleston-area bars and restaurants. (newtonianbeveragecompany.com) Belle’s Country Links These are not your average sausage links. Belle’s Country Links are the perfect combination of spicy and sweet, and can only be found at one of Charleston’s most popular low-country restaurants, The Glass Onion. Made from all natural pork and paired with a special blend of spices, it is not uncommon for folks to ask for an extra helping or two on the side — and then order some more to take home. (ilovetheglassonion.com)

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Tennessee

Texas

Goo Goo Cluster

Pittsburg Hot Links

It all began in 1912, with the first combination candy bar the world had ever seen. The original Goo Goo Cluster, made with real milk chocolate, caramel, peanuts and marshmallow nougat, has since had so much success that it now boasts equally irresistible pecan and peanut butter varieties. And thanks to its creator, the Standard Candy Company in Nashville, this confection is in high supply in the Tennessee area. If you’re in the South, you can still find them as a novelty item at Cracker Barrel Old Country Store and Restaurant. Go further north and the Goo Goo Cluster becomes few and far between. (googoo.com)

This spicy sausage is a Texas tradition dating back to 1897, when a German immigrant came to the U.S. with a recipe for the best sausage links that Pittsburg, Texas had ever seen. The original Pittsburg Hot Link restaurant was once the popular spot of stopovers for train crews on the nearby railroad lines. Before long, truckers and travelers alike began stopping in with hopes of recreating the flavors of these iconic sausages to bring back to their own towns — all without success. This Lone Star State tradition can be enjoyed at the original Pittsburg restaurant or shipped out to those who just can’t stand being apart from the links’ spicy deliciousness. (pittsburghotlink.com)

Charles Vergos’ Rendezvous Charcoal Ribs In the South, we know that good food requires some finger lickin’. And if you’re in Memphis, you know that it doesn’t get better than the barbecue served up at Charles Vergos’ Rendezvous. What sets it apart from the rest? Old-fashioned barbecue pits fueled by hardwood charcoal slowly cook the ribs before they are hand-patted down with a special mixture of vinegar, water, salt, barbecue spices and, of course, a thick slathering of the secret Rendezvous seasoning and a dollop of their signature barbecue sauce. With dozens of “Best Barbecue” awards from all over the nation, this authentic barbecue institution has served up their mouth-watering ribs to everyone from The Rolling Stones to Bill Clinton. (hogsfly.com)

Dublin Bottling Works Soda The oldest soda bottling facility in the state of Texas, Dublin Bottling Works has been crafting original soda flavors like “Fru Fru Berry” and “Dublin Retro Grape” for the past 120 years. This family-owned company has a simple secret when it comes to maintaining the quality of their one-of-a-kind sodas: leave out the high-fructose corn syrup. A decision to keep pure cane sugar in their sweet concoctions is what keeps the fans of this unique bottling company coming back to the small town of Dublin. (dublinbottlingworks.com)

Honorable Mentions There are items and places that all Southerners hold dear. It’s part of our cultural identity and we feel the loss when we’re away from them. Whataburger Whoever said “everything is bigger in Texas” was definitely referring to Whataburger. Founded in Corpus Christi, this fast food mecca is home to a mouthwatering Honey BBQ Chicken Strip Sandwich that must be held with both hands. The Honey Butter Chicken Biscuit is king, and the spicy ketchup is a religion with so many followers that it’s now sold in grocery stores. Today, there are over 700 locations spanning Arizona to Florida and boasting the giant “W.” (whataburger.com).

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Waffle House It’s 3 a.m. and you’ve got the munchies. The gas stations are closed and you promised yourself you would rise above the call of McDonald’s. What do you do? Find the nearest Waffle House. Founded in Georgia and lovingly known as “WaHo,” this 24-hour establishment has been feeding the masses with its dollar menu and “All-Star” breakfasts for decades. Where else can you get a pecan waffle and hash browns smothered, covered and diced from a guy named Sal who moonlights as a truck driver on his days off? The yellow Waffle House sign is a beacon of light to all who see it, saying, “Welcome home, friend. You’ve made it.” (wafflehouse.com) Sw

Sweetwater Brewing Company The water really is sweeter in Atlanta. And it comes inside of a colorfully labeled, psychedelic bottle. With its laid-back vibe and “Don’t Float the Mainstream” motto, SweetWater Brewing Company was ranked 19th among the top 50 U.S. craft brewing companies based on sales volume in 2013. The company offers public tours of their brewery regularly, where you can taste their popular 420, Motor Boat, Happy Ending and other varieties. Even with such widespread success, SweetWater stays close to their Atlanta roots, hosting local events like their annual 420 Fest with live bands, hundreds of people and, of course, plenty of brews. (sweeetwaterbrew.com)

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DESIGN

Per Cut Parsing out the hidden cost of cheap knives and the real value of quality cutlery. Story by TODD COOKE

Photo by CHARLIE WATTS

knife is the natural extension of your arm in the kitchen. So whether or not it’s one’s ambition to be on “Top Chef,” it’s fair to say that if you find yourself spending a decent amount of time slicing and dicing, one of the first things you should invest in is proper cutlery. Eric Ripert, the head chef of New York’s Le Bernardin, went so far as to design a custom Louis Vuitton case to house his own chef ’s knife. But since not all of us share the same love affair as Ripert with our cutlery — nor do we likely share his budget — shelling out thousands of dollars for the sharpest blade might not seem the most practical when a knife from the dollar store can get the job done (sort of ). Aside from all the beauty of the object and its exacting functionality, what it really comes down to is cost per use. At least, this is the opinion of 17th generation Yoshimoto bladesmith, Murray Carter. Carter is one of very few craftsman in the world capable of producing knives using age-old techniques whose methods date back for generations. Now based in Portland, Ore., Carter specializes in three-laminate carbon steel knife manufacturing, whereby Hitachi white carbon steel — the finest cutlery-grade steel in the world — is sandwiched between two layers of low-carbon steel and carefully honed to a razor-sharp edge. His training was acquired over the course of 18 years in Japan, one of four countries with a particularly storied history of manufacturing blades. The other three are Germany (home to brands like Wüsthof and Henckels), England and France (specifically the city of Thiers, renowned for their coveted single-blade razors). For expert bladesmiths, the creation of a single blade is a grueling process with dozens of steps (60, in the case of Carter). Forge-welding, forging the shape, annealing, quenching, tempering, grinding, polishing and honing are just a few of the necessary ones to create the finished product. Everything, down to the type of fuel used to heat the forge, is of importance. Carter, for example, uses only pine charcoal in his forge, which is a type of coal that has had its impurities (predominantly sulfur and phosphorous) removed. Likewise, the water, used to temper (or cool) the blade, is kept just shy of body temperature. It is also critical to source the finest carbon-steel that can be found on the market as the raw materials for a bladesmith’s knives. In two- or three-laminate construction, soft and hard steels are forged together to create the final product. Carter presses his two hands within an inch of each other, caked with soot, to demonstrate the way that steel in a high-quality laminate blade is sandwiched like an Oreo cookie: high-carbon steel, the hard metal that allows for the blade to take and hold a sharp edge, is welded between two layers of soft steel, which give the blade its exterior skeletal-like durability and toughness. Most importantly for Carter and other bladesmiths like him, though, is that each blade is forged individually and by hand. P R E - FA L L 2 0 1 4

ven small, local artisans without the certifications like Carter understand the importance of quality cutlery. David Sturgis, former chef and one of the founders of L’Idiot, a knife-making trio based out of Atlanta, is also no stranger to the strain of crafting a one-of-a-kind blade. “It’s one of those things that I’ll never stop learning, but I mean he (metalsmith and L’Idiot partner Mark Hopper) has been doing it for 25 years and he’s still figuring out some of it,” explains Sturgis. “There are so many steps in the process that if you do get to the end and you’ve done all of them well then you end up with a really beautiful piece … And you have this beautiful thing you can look at that’s also a super efficient tool, which will last a really long time.” What most of us are used to being peddled in the kitchen aisle of Costco, however, can barely fit in the same category as the kind of blades that Carter or L’Idiot are crafting. Most industrial knife manufacturers take homogenous steel — that is, steel with the same structural composition throughout — and simply shape it into a knife, using what amounts to a series of compromised steps in the interest of achieving a drastically reduced sticker price and industrial-grade efficiency. But, when knife shopping, finding a bargain shouldn’t be your top priority. Mass produced knife manufacturers have different objectives than that of the likes of an expert bladesmith, and while their product is inferior in many respects, the shortcuts they take are mainly a result of modern consumerism (remember those 60 steps in Carter’s knifemaking process? His time, materials and expertise results in a knife that can cost up to $1,000.) Ultimately, there are six criteria by which Carter suggests one evaluate a knife. In order of importance, there’s: the ease of sharpening, durability, blade geometry, ergonomics, the ability

of the blade to take a fine edge and, finally, the ability to hold that edge. Evaluated together, these determine the knife’s long-term value, so that with each successive use, the cost per cut ends up far exceeding any knife from Bed Bath & Beyond. While things like full tang (when the blade extends the full length of the handle of the knife) are also important, more often than not, they are invoked by marketers in ways that are more confounding than illuminating. In order to get back to the heart of the knife and bypass all of the fluff surrounding branding, Sturgis and his partners at L’Idiot have gone a more unconventional route. “We are doing almost anti-marketing,” he says. “I want people to realize that they can’t just get our knives anywhere, and then have to find us and kind of figure it out. It becomes part of the story. Part of the process of their relationship with that tool. They have to seek it out.” Indeed, a chef shares a certain bond with his instruments. Each tool he uses helps bring his vision to life. It is for this reason that knife artisans like both Carter and Sturgis put so much time and care into each product. In every knife, there is a piece of the bladesman. “Every blade I make I cannot help but be stirred by the knowledge [of that history], and to push toward excellence, because I know that that’s what I owe the metal, the blade, my customers and everyone else,” says Carter. “I couldn’t do anything less than put my whole heart and every ounce of knowledge and skill into each blade.”

For more information, visit cartercutlery.com and lidiotexperience.tumblr.com.

Photo by CHARLIE WATTS

Photos courtesy of CarterCutlery.com

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DESIGN

Life, Meaning Ugliest A

Painting

World in the

S T O R Y

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B Y

A U S T I N

H O L T

When I was 21, I lived in an old hotel-turned-apartment building on the Gulf Coast.

t was a strange place, filled with eclectic characters: the Lithuanian couple who would have shouting matches into the wee hours; the guy who rode his bike in circles around the dilapidating brick structure, never really going anywhere; the old woman who purportedly offered her own particular brand of service in exchange for cigarettes (I cannot personally attest to the accuracy of the latter claim). But this is a story for another time. Anyway, the concrete walls of my single room were painted a hideous shade of robin’s egg blue, which had begun to bubble and peel in places from repeated rounds of post-hurricane humidity. I splurged on a bucket of white paint to remedy the offense, and when all was said and done, and my cobbled-together thrift store furnishings were installed, I discovered that one of the walls was blank. This shitty room needed something equally shitty to pull it all together. Fast-forward a couple of months. A shop that specialized in selling the forlorn remnants of foreclosed and liquidated estates had posted a banner above its front door: “Going Out of Business — Everything 75 Percent Off.” I had seen the banner a couple of times already, and knew this place didn’t have long to go before the locks were bolted permanently. So one balmy Saturday afternoon, I walked into the store. A single room was stripped of most of its previous offerings, with the remainders clustered around one wall off to the side. A frumpy, profoundly bored woman in an

aluminum folding chair scarcely looked up from her Nora Roberts book as I walked in and began hovering around the few remaining items for sale: a preposterously large, ornate wooden trunk with Indian carvings; a small side table with one mismatched chair; a fluted, faux-Ming dynasty vase; a rolled-up, threadbare Oriental rug; and a painting. The painting was huge and hideous: a deluded mashup of Monet sketchings, hallucinogen-induced Yellow Submarines, Dr. Seuss knockoffs and influences of Picasso’s Shitty Period (before Cubism, after Blue). These traits were loosely tied together by a color palette that reeked of a 1980s dentist office, but on the whole, the piece still gave off the appearance of being only half-finished, as if the artist had a terrible epiphany, re-questioned his meaning in the world and decided to settle for a career in something more worthwhile, like hummingbird farming, or underwater basket weaving. But no … not quite. This wasn’t just a forgotten canvas. This was encased in a gilded, wooden frame, which could not have been inexpensive to procure. There was a wire mounted to the back. The texture in the dried oils still retained clumps of cat hair from what was possibly the most Technicolored feline who ever lived. Someone once owned this painting. Somebody, at some terrible point in the not-too-distant past, had displayed this abomination proudly in their home. Someone, maybe the artist, or maybe someone else, had laid eyes on this artistic atrocity, and found something beautiful in it. Someone loved this painting.

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“Excuse me,”

I said, startling the frumpy woman from her dime store erotica. “Sorry. It’s just … This painting.” “Yeah,” she said blearily. “It’s something else, isn’t it?” She returned to her book. “Yeah,” I echoed. “Something else. This is all you have?” I circled my finger in the air, indicating the rest of the vacant space. “Sure is.” “Hmm. This …” I pointed back at the painting. I could feel myself becoming lost in a dreamlike haze. “This is the most awful thing I’ve ever seen.” “It’s pretty bad,” she returned, averting her eyes from the page for only another second before diving back in. She must have been at a good part. “It’s horrendous.” “Mm-hmm.” “How much is it?” She looked up, arching an eyebrow. It was the first indication of emotion I had seen from the woman since walking into the store. She folded a small dogear in the book, stood up, and began to walk over, resting the tome atop the preposterous trunk. “Well,” she said, with an exhalation. She joined me aside the painting, sharing my disquieted gaze. “It was $500. But it’s on sale. So $125.” “Hmm. Where’s it from?” “Some estate in Baton Rouge.” “Who painted it?” I was coming close to exceeding my quota of askable questions. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

“We need to burn that thing,” Alex said. “We need to take it outside, right now, and we need to throw it into the fire.” Alex has never been a fan of this painting. Standing in the kitchen, she motioned her wine glass toward it, sloshing a little onto the floor in her vehemence. “Oh, shit. Austin, where are the paper towels?” This is the fifth home Alex and I have lived in together, and every time, I’ve managed to beg, bargain or cheat my

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I couldn’t quite place it at the time. Even now, a decade later, I can scarcely come up with a working theory as to why this piece was so alluring. It was a brutal car accident, applied in the medium of oil to canvas. But the more I looked at it, the more the realization cemented itself: If I said thanks, and walked out of the store empty-handed, I would regret it, for reasons I will probably never be able to explain. I would have hated myself for it, but only slightly more than I already hated myself for being attracted to this thing in the first place. I had counted the contents of my wallet before leaving home. I weighed the gravity of this statement carefully, but it had to be said: “I have 54 dollars and 23 cents.” “Alright.” A few minutes later, I walked out of the store with this terrible thing hoisted awkwardly under my arm. I didn’t want anyone to see me with it. I kept the image facing me, mercifully removed from the view of any passing motorist. When I arrived home, I hammered six nails into the hard concrete above my bed, cracking the drywall in a few places. Satisfied that the support was adequate to avoid late-night impalement, (How was he killed? Painting fell on him.) I hung the monstrosity. It covered most of the available space on the wall. In the relative smallness of my shitty home, it seemed enormous, looming over the space. The roughly hewn people in the foreground, chatting among themselves errantly, seemed to mock me a little. In their miniscule, dotted eyes, I saw a perverse glee. They were pleased that another hapless soul had been pulled into their world of aesthetic torment. But dammit, it pulled the space together. So it had that going for it, which was nice.

way into hanging this thing on the wall. This time, it had snagged prime real estate in eyeshot of the kitchen. Our fanciful cocktail party had devolved into a standard Saturday night binge fest, as carefully crafted cocktails and meticulously chosen wines had given way to a flood from the handles of cheap stuff and boxes of “Two-Buck Chuck” scattered about the room. After the fourth or fifth drink, after all, you don’t really care about cucumber gin, home-

made bitters or well-oxidized tannins. The usual suspects were all there, and while they were all well acquainted with the division that existed within our household over this thing, this was the first time the conversation had steered, en masse, to a full-fledged discussion. “I don’t know. There’s just something about it.” Betty folded her arms and leaned against the counter. “Something about its bigness, I guess.” “Its bigness is exactly what makes it so

awful,” Alex said. “If it was small, whatever. But it always just takes up the whole wall, and it’s just … there. And ugly.” “It inspires me,” I said. This had become my irrefutable boilerplate for the painting’s continued existence in our lives. Sean piped up from the corner, sprawled in an armchair. The accumulated exhaustion of his day spent tubing down the Chattahoochee River had begun to catch up with him, and it was only a matter of time before he became the first casualty of our gathering. “I will give you cash money, and an even larger painting, in exchange for that one.” “Shut up, Sean,” Alex said. This wasn’t the first time he had made this offer, but we were both fairly certain that the result would not be to Alex’s liking. Colloquials aside, there were, in fact, worse paintings in the world — there weren’t a lot of them, but Sean was industrious. He would be able to find one. “I’m with Alex on this one,” Aaron spoke deliberately. “I mean, just because it’s big, and just because it’s an original painting, doesn’t mean that it’s art. And, I mean, c’mon. It’s just awful.” “Well, why not?” Betty chimed in again. “Why isn’t it art? What about it,” she said, casting a quick glance to the wall, “What about it makes it not art? I mean, yes, it’s an ugly painting. Categorically so. But should that exclude it as art?” I appreciated Betty’s ability to play devil’s advocate. Kimmie was two drinks in thus far and, as such, was on the very cusp of tipsy. “That’s the role of contemporary art! Regardless of its original intent, the meaning is always changed when it’s observed and dissected. Art can never be —” “Uggh! God!” Johnny Jamestown had just retrieved a carton of grapefruit juice from the fridge, and was uncapping a fresh handle of Sky. “See? That’s the thing. Art doesn’t have to have a point. It can just be pretty.” “Thank you, Johnny Jamestown,” I said. “See?” I panned across the rest of the room. “Someone’s on my side.” “I didn’t mean that. It’s a horrible

painting. Okay. Let me go back. Art doesn’t have to have a point — it can just be. Do you think Jackson Pollock ever intended for his —” “I was talking!” Kimmie screeched the last word, bringing the conversation to a halt for a moment. “Art can never be owned by the artist. It’s open to interpretation.” “Fine,” Johnny said. “What hidden meaning do you perceive in this thing?” He motioned to the pastel mess on the wall. “Okay.” Kimmie approached the painting hesitantly. “Like,” Jimmy started, “If an artist specifically says that his art has no meaning, then I don’t think it’s fair to draw any conclus —” “Talllk-innng!” Kimmie drew out the word before returning her attention to the canvas. “I see a group of aristocrats, idly talking, going about their own business, oblivious to the chaos taking place in the world around them, as represented by the unease in the architecture behind them. The one on the left: see? She doesn’t have any arms! She represents the limited role of women in an aristocratically dominated, hierarchically male class system in which she is a participant. Though she seems content with her station, she’s separated from the rest of the group, showing her inability to incorporate herself fully into a world that inherently and institutionally treats women as inferior. It’s actually a powerful statement about class and gender.” The room was quiet for a moment. For an instant, the painting had taken on a new meaning. “Bullshit,” Paulie coughed the word into his hand. “Paulie!” His girlfriend, Jennifer, slapped his arm. “Don’t be an ass!” “Listen, I’m sorry,” Paulie returned. “But I just don’t see why everything always has to come back around to bashing the great, white male.” “It’s not man-bashing,” Jennifer quipped. “It’s an observation.” “An observation of what?” Paulie said. “Johnny’s right. I really don’t think that whoever painted this shitty painting had the insight to make class and fem-

inazi gender distinctions. No offense, Kimmie. But that would be like saying … that the squiggly buildings are, like, a reflection on the impermanence and anonymity that can be exerted by an urban setting, and the deluded sense of comfort that its inhabitants feel in such an environment.” Again, the room went silent. “See what you did there?” I asked. “What?” “Ha!” Kimmie shouted, brandishing an accusatory finger at Paulie. “You just drew meaning from it!” “What, no, I didn’t — that’s not what just happened,” Paulie hemmed and hawed. “I was saying that the observation I just made up is complete bullshit, and —” “It is sad though, isn’t it?” Betty had adopted a nearly dreamlike reverence for the painting, as she began explaining, head rested on her palm as she leaned on the counter. “In the middle of such a busy place, the people are filled with such a sense of false contentment. It’s almost like a longing. I think it’s terrible.” “The hell?” Paulie threw his hands in the air as he turned to the fridge for another beer. “No. That’s not what I meant. I made it up.” “It’s art,” I said. “It’s supposed to be bullshit.” “Thank you,” Paulie conceded. Johnny Jamestown finished mixing his cocktail with his index finger. “Art doesn’t have to be bullshit. It’s not bullshit. But it can be very quickly turned into bullshit, even if it’s good, all because people like to turn it into bullshit. I’m sorry. I just don’t see how a portrait by Jan Scholz can be considered art, which it is, in the same way as this can be considered art,” he pointed his grapefruit juice-covered finger back at the painting, “which this most certainly is not.” “But who are you to make that distinction?” Aaron posed the question, again, deliberately. “You just said!” Johnny shot back “You just said! ‘Just because it’s big and painted doesn’t mean it’s art!’” “No, that’s not … It’s not what I … Shit.”

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The conversation continued like this for a while. Each new question was answered in paradox. Re-evaluations led to new revelations. We longed for answers, which the painting would not relinquish. New friendships were created, along with new understandings. Some of us loved it, and some of us hated it. Some of us went on under the belief that paint on a canvas can be meaningful, some of us Ubered home still under the firm conviction that, as several people had pointed out that night, art can just be bullshit. I wonâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t be so grandiose to say that we were all changed in some terrific way by the painting. But the irony that

we had spent an hour dissecting the nature and value of art in contemporary society, through the lens of what was universally agreed to be one of the most atrocious pieces of art ever conceived, was not lost on us. We had all found something different in this disaster of a painting, and I would like to think that we were all better for it.

Or not. Because it might have just been bullshit.

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The Graivier Center P L A S T I C S U R G E R Y & M E D S PA

Where innovation meets artistry.

THE EYES OF AN ARTIST. THE MIND OF AN INNOVATOR. THE HANDS OF A WORLD CLASS SURGEON.

Dr. Miles Graivier is a highly skilled surgeon, industry innovator, teacher and humanitarian. He successfully combines the science of medicine with the artistic opportunities of plastic surgery. He has been in private practice in Atlanta for over 20 years. While his business has grown and become a renowned plastic surgery facility, The Graivier Center maintains an intimate setting. Dr. Graivier and his select team of nursing and administrative professionals strive to uniquely enhance the natural beauty of each patient â&#x20AC;&#x201C; boosting confidence and elevating self-image.

WA L L

FLOW Photography by COLBY BLOUNT Styling by TIAN JUSTMAN Models: SAFFY CARSON, JILL CHRISTMAS, CHINA DUNCANSON, CHARLOTTE HINTON, DANA KELSON, MAGGIE PIERSON, ANNIE SHU & CARLTON WOODCOCK, All for Factor Models Hair Styling by RACHEAL ANDREAUS & BETHANY MARSTON, for b. You Blowdry & Beauty Bar and RACHEL CARTER & BETSY ROUSU for Dyer & Posta Salon Makeup by ERICA BOGART for Urban Decay Styling Assistant: ALISA HUTCHINSON

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Gown, $1,450, ABBEY GLASS, at Showroom Ampersand. Necklace, $1,800 and Elephant Evening Bag, $300, both vintage, both at Miz Scarletts. Wallcovering, Sunbird by MATTHEW WILLIAMSON, at osborneandlittle.com.

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Corset, $3,400, EAVIS & BROWN LONDON, at Miz Scarletts. Skirt, $1,800, CAROL HANNAH and Belt (used as hair accessory), $275, CARLEE SIZEMORE, both at The Sentimentalist. Wallcovering, Platinum by STROHEIM WALLCOVERING, at Fabricut, Inc.

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Gown, $1,999, MICHELLE HADIDA, at michellehadida.com. Necklace, $1,868 and Cuff, $1,000, both BILLIE HILLIARD, both at billiehilliard.com. Wallcovering, Maharani by SARISKAR, at osborneandlittle.com

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Gown, $3,475, CAROL HANNAH and Headpiece, $195, TWIGS & HONEY, both at The Sentimentalist. Wallcovering, Japonerie by VERDANTA WALLPAPERS, at osborneandlittle.com.

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Gown and Evening Coat, $9,000, ZUHAIR MURAD, at Miz Scarletts. Wallcovering, Chelsea Chinoiserie Collection in Pitch 94 Dyed Silk, DE GOURNAY, at Ainsworth-Noah.

Gown, $1,999 , MICHELLE HADIDA, at michellehadida.com. Earrings, $198, BILLIE HILLIARD, at billiehilliard.com.

Gown, $295, vintage 1960s, at The Sentimentalist. Wallcovering, Poppies Red by GRAHAM&BROWN, at grahambrown.com.

Gown, $4,900, JENNY PACKHAM and Earrings, $800, BUTLER AND WILSON LONDON, both at Miz Scarletts. Wallcovering, Windswept Blossom 22 Carat Gold Guilded Silk, DE GOURNAY, at Ainsworth-Noah.

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(left to right) Salmon Gown with Green Bow, $6,400, DIOR, at Miz Scarletts. Gold Hair Comb, $280, TWIGS & HONEY, at The Sentimentalist. Black Gown with Fur Detail, $800, YSA MAKINO, at Miz Scarletts. Bronze Hoop Earring, $248, BILLIE HILLIARD, at billiehilliard.com. Yellow Gown with Black Overlay, $3,600, BELLVILLE SASSOON, at Miz Scarletts. Bronze Stud Earrings, $198, BILLIE HILLIARD, at billiehillilard.com. Light Blue Pleated Gown, $4,500, HALEY BEYER, at haleybeyer.com. Gold Quartz Choker, $478, BILLIE HILLIARD, at billiehilliard.com. Gold Faux Fur and Leather Coat, $2,175 and Navy Okobo Gown, $1,375, both TIAN JUSTMAN, at tianjustman.com. Gold Strapless Gown, $2,036, SARAH SEVEN, at The Sentimentalist. Crystal Headpiece, $195, TWIGS & HONEY, at The Sentimentalist. Black Jacquard Gown, $530, MEGAN HUNTZ, at Showroom Ampersand. Pearl Necklace, $300, vintage, at Miz Scarletts. Blackberry Cocktail Gown, $1,625, Bamboo Earrings, $65 and Jade and Amethyst Necklace, $475, all TIAN JUSTMAN, all at tianjustman.com.

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A R T S & E N T E R TA I N M E N T

This Hereâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s the

CHAMBER CARTEL

Experimental soundscapes are their trade.

Story by MALIKA GUMPANGKUM | Photography by MAX EREMINE

From left to right: Jean Gay (Cello), Paul Scanling (Conductor), Gabriel Monticello (Bass), Victor Pons (Percussion), Caleb Herron (Percussion, Artistic Director), Thomas Avery (Guitar), Tracy Woodard (Violin) and Amy O'Dell (Piano).

lassical music ushers to mind claustrophobic imaginings of older musicians, regimentally dressed in blacksand-whites, performing Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony or Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture for the millionth time. But traditions in art also exist to be challenged, ultimately by a younger group of creatives banding together. The French Impressionists defied the obtuse and glorified realistic standards set by the historical Académie Royale. Jean-Luc Godard subverted the tired-out conventions of mainstream cinema with the La Nouvelle Vague movement. In-yer-face theatre witnessed a band of 1990s young British playwrights calling for a more experiential, political and ultimately non-mainstream mode of dramatic expression. However, in the 21st century, it seems, there is a severe scarcity of artistic movements. But in Atlanta, Chamber Cartel is reanimating the classical music scene by performing experimental contemporary music written by only new and emerging composers around the world. If they sound like renegades, it’s because they most certainly are, smashing all stereotypes and preconceived notions of what classical music can be. “It was a dare,” is artistic director and percussionist Caleb Herron’s candid answer as to how Chamber Cartel, a classical chamber ensemble of about twenty ragtag, misfit, underground musicians, came into being. It’s a promising answer — quite fitting for the experiential ethos of the Cartel. The hearty laugh that suffixes the answer is that of certain self-deprecating geniuses. I had the privilege of sharing a bar table with the Cartel after their latest concert performance, “Riding with Death.” It was close to midnight by the time I got down to chatting with Herron about his brainchild and passion project. Southern barbecue, cold draft beers and live bluegrass music lent a mellow, casual atmosphere to our conversation that was often punctuated with moments of silly, geekish jokes and laughter. “It’s not the first time I’ve been called a genius,” he flippantly responds to a fellow Cartel fan at the table before he laughs again.

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Herron’s journey to Chamber Cartel has an epic number of chapters.

e earned his Bachelor of Music Performance in percussion at Georgia State University, studying under Dr. Stuart Gerber. During his time at GSU, Herron worked with controversial composing legend Karlheinz Stockhausen. In addition to collaborating with some of the movers and shakers of contemporary classical music, he assembled and performed in two ensembles: Cerberus, an aptly named percussion trio, and Bent Frequency. “I’ve always been one to start things,” the musical pioneer professed. After graduating from GSU, Herron pursued a Masters in percussion performance in Alaska. It was a prolific four years: with his musical comrades and artists-in-arms, he formed Ensemble 64.8, named for the latitude it was founded on. And he even conducted the pep band for Sarah Palin’s homecoming. But four years proved to be too long; summers in Alaska, Herron explained, are particularly depressing because there are only three hours

of sunlight in a day. In that time, he dealt with a break-up and grew a frighteningly massive neckbeard (“Will the beard make a comeback?” I ask the now clean-shaven percussionist. He’s thinking about it.) He moved back to Atlanta and plummeted into a dark time of creative burnout. “I was just floating around, searching for things to do.” Fellow creatives can sympathize; writers block, whatever the medium, is a bitch, and having to be employed to practice and give meaning to your art is tough shit. But even English rock star Sting recently confessed to suffering from an 8-year creative drought. Then, Herron discovered Invent Room Pop — a monthly event in Atlanta where six musicians who’ve never met each other play in duos and trios, which are randomly determined by hat drawings. There he met Robert Kee of Eyedrum (a non-profit organization developing an interdisciplinary approach to the arts by incorporating a wide range

The Cartel’s performance was filled with wonder and captivating zealousness; beyond that was the special imagination and sheer audacity of the repertoire they chose to pour their high-proof spirits into. A piece they performed by John Avery called “The Space Between One Stone and the Next” begins with an atonal flute that filled the hall with mystique. A loop machine was connected to the flute’s melodies. The flautist performed her solos only to have those measures echoing back to her a moment later, as if a fading memory, as the silence reflected the distance between two incarnations of

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of contemporary art, music and new media in its gallery space), who was a key person in the genesis of Chamber Cartel. Now back to that dare: Kee challenged Herron to seek out an ensemble and perform, in concert, an all-new repertoire every single month — something unheard of, especially with pieces of such modern complexities. “My initial response was ‘Fuck you,’” Herron laughs. But by November 2011, after doing absolutely nothing for two years, he formed Chamber Cartel. Since its inception, Cartel has kept up its mission to put on a concert every month, performing more than 40 hours of contemporary classical music over the years. The response has been overwhelmingly supportive, and their audience keeps growing with every concert. “L.A. has a scene, New York has a scene, Boston has a scene, Chicago has a scene … We’re building a scene in Atlanta. We are building a scene that inspires people,” he declares.

the same, melodic idea meeting one another in the universe of the concert hall. The Chamber Cartel enabled me to understand this stunningly beautiful and poetic concept. I never knew such metaphysical music could be inspired by, or inspire, contemplative thoughts of multiple universes and infinities. Films and orchestra conductors and poets always claimed that infinity and God could be heard only in the music of Beethoven. But this was different. “I can play other gigs, but … I don’t want to,” Mr. Herron says with a pirate smile. I say, play on.

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A R T S & E N T E R TA I N M E N T

Story by TOVA GELFOND Photography by DAVID RAMS Makeup by TRACY EWELL Hair by TERI CLAIRBORNE for Clairborne Salon Shot on location at Alan Castro’s private estate in Atlanta, Ga.

Real Satisfaction S T E P H A N I E S Z O S TA K O F U S A’ S N E W D R A M A “ S AT I S FA C T I O N ” D I S H E S O N F O O D , FA S H I O N A N D T H E J O U R N E Y TO S TA R D O M .

He presses her body up against the wall. Her breaths short and labored; hair jostling back and forth; body close, fitting arms and legs into interlocking friction. The air is tense, suspending questions in the atmosphere tossed against muddy emotions and raw intrigue. Halfway into the pilot episode of USA’s new show, “Satisfaction,” I find myself biting the flesh on top of my index finger. And then she’s caught, right at the top of the stairs, down a hallway — just moments after I become completely engaged in this plot.

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’m hours away from my studio visit to the USA set of the new show, where I’m sitting down with Stephanie Szostak, star of the series and the woman I’m watching cheat on her husband on screen. There’s always some enigmatic and effortlessly sexy way about Szostak in her roles. Memorably, as Jacqueline Follet, the threatening editor of French Runway magazine in The Devil Wears Prada, her stripes of bleach-white hair translate European confidence at a glance. When I arrive at the studio — a complex of flat, stucco-sided buildings in soft pink and cream tones — I peer over the drop-arm gate at the security desk at a sea of concrete and trailers reminiscent of a post-modern major film studio compound in L.A. But we’re in Atlanta, just minutes away from downtown’s Coca-Cola skyline, where the new Hollywood has found one of many homes. After opening glass doors marked appropriately, “Satisfaction,” I’m ushered through long, unexciting corridors decorated with brown envelopes of re-written scripts and schedules, to a break room that feels like the ugly step-closet of a lunch room in grade school. The immaculately designed TV set, equipped with a to-scale, faux, middle-American house (fancy picture frames included) is at a sound stage a mere golf-cart ride away. I’m embarrassingly late (after showing up at a shooting location instead of the studio) and apologetic. I find her perched in a folding chair, hugging the edge of a brown foldout table. Szostak is arched over a stack of stapled scripts, her lips moving silently in practice. She looks up and stands with welcoming exertion and hugs me warmly, though we just met. “I just had some time to read lines, it was great!” It’s a kind thing to say, but seems genuine. She’s lovely in an unfamiliar, rather worldly way. A couldbe Parisian-girl-next-door, but it’s a completely different neighborhood. Unforcedly sexy — even in a racerback fitness top and workout pants — with rich, dark eyes and easy bangs. Petite and fit, her lean muscles lengthen her stature. She has to be on set later in the evening, so I’ve imposed on her work day. It’s lunchtime and she starts talking about local eateries — her new Atlanta favorites: Abattoir for bone marrow and sweetbreads; Rathbun’s for steak and drinks; JCT Kitchen for Southern specialities. “But to me it’s not Southern Southern,” she says of her local haunts. “It’s not all fried. It’s infused by this modern thing of going back to real food. People are now enjoying meat, and you feel like you’re gonna go to the butcher and get pieces.” She’s a veritable Zagat guide for the city’s most sophisticated menus and you’d never tell by the looks of her. Foodies this deep in the scene rarely have this skin and muscle tone (yoga five days a week

takes responsibility for her physique that shows no sign of motherhood). “I could talk about food forever.” It’s lunchtime; we look around the break room indiscriminately. There’s a sink, a fridge — all the makings of food options, but we decide not to opt in to this lunch route. “I could listen to you talk about food forever,” I think, but keep the sentiment to myself. Her accent, stemming from a French upbringing and developed over years of travel, is soft, rounded and sultry. Her tongue rests on the vowels, elongated ‘e’s and rhythmic consonants in a pattern of tonal intrigue. An attribute that was thought to hold her back from the field of acting when she first thought about delving in. “[I told people] I would love to take a real acting class, and everyone was like, ‘No, no you have an accent,’” she says. Though it never proved to be a deterrent. Born in the suburbs of Paris, Szostak’s American, Iowa-raised father and French mother brought her up to live with more of a citizen-of-the-world than an ex-pat-in-Paris mentality. “My parents saved all of their money for summer vacation,” she recalls. A time when travel across the U.S. was affordable, Szostak toured the span of states, uncovering a wildly fantastical obsession with America year after year. “It was the best memories. So I knew the United States in a way better than I knew France. We went to the Grand Canyon, Yellowstone, California.” I’m ashamed to tell her she’s seen more of the country than I have. “I remember telling my best friend in elementary school, ‘In America, when it rains, the raindrops don’t wet you.’” An idealism that only prospered in diary entries with plans to move across the Atlantic. So when the time came to choose a university years later, she attended William & Mary in Williamsburg, Va. (though her English was poor at best), where she studied marketing and played on the golf team. “You probably would’ve been cushy as a CEO,” I say in response to her academic pedigree. “All the business marketing, you’re bilingual, the golf skills, the good looks.” “Yeah … ,” she thinks, letting memories fill her smile. “But I didn’t know any better.” “If you were a guy, you’d be wearing sweater vests and charming other CEOs.” She laughs. “I had no clue what I wanted to do, and I thought that’s the best way to get a job is to study business … but I graduated and moved to New York and got a job at Chanel.” Getting a job at Chanel, the most iconic fashion house of all time in New York City is the “job a hundred girls would kill for” — a feeling she would reprise when on a fashion film years later. She was an assistant in the skin care department who moved up the ranks over two-and-a half years, but unlike so many unlucky fashion lackeys, she felt the position was incredibly rewarding. “I loved it and I was creative and I remember giving [my boss] my ideas, but I remember looking at my boss, and my boss’ boss, and thinking, ‘That’s not what I want to do.’” But the fashion certainly stuck — everyone at Chanel was impeccably dressed, and sample sales (although extraordinarily out of her budget) provided her with pieces that line her wardrobe today. P R E - FA L L 2 0 1 4

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I don’t know if I could ever leave a life at Chanel. Or tolerate it for that matter. But her exit from fashion was like a tunnel cut directly into acting like a dam flowing water evenly, and in one direction. And it happened quickly. While fashionably employed, Chanel sent Szostak to work on a training brochure for the company. She was asked to step in on the photo shoot, when the photographer asked her what modeling agency she was with. “And I said ‘Oh I’m not a model,’” her hands cross back and forth in protest as she tells the story. “And he said, ‘Oh you could be.’ ‘No, I’m too short and I’m too old,’ I said. ‘You’re not, actually,’ he said.” She smiles at me, taking a pause. “It just stayed in my head and I thought maybe I could make the same amount of money doing modeling as doing this and then figure out what it is I want to do.” Looking at her, it’s such a feasible transition. She has the disposition for it, and she’s fun. Light. Seizing the opportunity, she figured she could model part time and then work in her husband’s office as the Excel spreadsheet guru. IMG Models said no, but Wilhelmina Models offered her a spot in “new faces,” even though she would be lumped in with 16-year-olds, and she was married. So a humble and excited Szostak ended up booking job after job, loving the chance to play, try on clothes, get into character, when she got sent on commercial auditions — ultimately leading her to a rudimentary acting class. And she was hooked. I watch her translate love of acting through movement. Her hands are small, thin, agile — they move through the air as she speaks, like a conductor of an orchestra. Telling a story with woven motions and flexed fingertips. It’s not, however, overeager. She’s relaxed in her seat and her motions are slow. Graceful. Like movements through gelatin. She was fortunate enough to be recommended to Sondra Lee, a teacher for working actors. “So I called her up and she was the real deal,” she says. “I went in her class and just remember seeing people work and being blown away. The first time I got up and did a monologue, I was like, that’s it. This is what I’m gonna do.” Her eyes seem glossy retelling her moment, even in the fluorescent hum of the back room. Her breakthrough — the tipping point from layman to character experimenter. “As a first time actor, when you forget yourself in a monologue, and you know, I cried, but you don’t know what’s happening … (breath) … the character takes over.” She’s lifting her hands higher for emphasis. “So that feeling of disappearing and having something that you don’t know come up brought joy, and I needed to feel that.” The thing about Szostak is that she has the chops to expect and support her presence in the industry as a substantial one, but in truth, she hasn’t been doing this long. Casting in The Devil Wears Prada was her first studio role ever, where she

worked with Meryl Streep. “She was almost always in character,” she shares. “It never left her. The demeanor of Miranda. But at the same time, I had the tiniest role.” She shakes her head in a comical way. “I was there for three days and we had a flashback scene with no dialogue coming into a restaurant and we were just talking. Talking about the scene and she asked me questions about my life, and she opened up about her life. So nice. I never felt like I was some day player, which I was.” Since then, roles in Iron Man 3, Dinner for Schmucks and Gimme Shelter have put her on the map. Then the appearance of “Satisfaction,” where she plays a woman with a seemingly perfect life who cheats on her husband. With an escort. The story becomes tangled as her husband discovers her infidelity and responds in force by becoming an escort himself. Plotlines are unquestionably sexual en route to larger themes: relationships, communication, self discovery, grey areas of love. “In real life, even if we are mad, it might be a split second of mad. Just a look,” she explains, pinching her fingers together demonstrating an inch of mad, “it’s all different colors happening at once and that gets to me easier and easier as the season progresses because you know your characters, you have a past. These things kind of evolve on their own and then they’re alive inside of you and you don’t have to search for them.” The journey of such an explorative script is that it’s meant to provoke thoughts and larger familial questions made apparent by USA’s promo line: “Would you be willing to risk your marriage in order to save it?” Viewers will be tuned in to the steamy sex scenes and jungle of emotions to find out (I, included). The afternoon is winding down as she shares warm sentiments about her kids visiting her on set and her stage daughter (Michelle DeShon) who has become the truest of friends, and we connect on TV shows on our hit list (“House of Cards” for me, “Breaking Bad” for her). She’s a few hours away from hair, makeup and an evening on set and she’ll have to be on location soon. “It’s fast-paced,” she says nodding. “You know, tomorrow we start a new episode, and I’ve read it twice, but now I’m really starting to dive into it,” her finger grazing the edges of her stack of papers. It’s hard to leave the ugly room, the fluorescent lighting — even with a grumbling stomach. Szostak is comfortable, easy and polished. I find myself drawn to the minutia of the moment, her laissez-faire femininity that pulsates through an irregular pace. She has managed to acquire a lavish dose of true satisfaction in her life through love and her craft. It’s been a very limited window into her mind and her world — not so unlike watching the pilot episode weeks before it airs. You know so much, but understand so little. Or where it’s going to lead. Down a hallway and up a staircase to her sexual exploits for one. But from there, I just hope to be satisfied.

“SO THAT FEELING OF DISAPPEARING AND HAVING SOMETHING THAT YOU DON’T KNOW COME UP BROUGHT JOY, AND I NEEDED TO FEEL THAT.”

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Through the Eyes of

KATHRYN PRESCOTT MTV’s new star talks “Finding Carter,” photography and strong female characters. Story by TOVA GELFOND

t’s all a matter of perspective; through the eyes of a character or the lens of a camera. For Kathryn Prescott, lead actress in MTV’s teenage drama “Finding Carter” and celebrated photographer, they are analogous ways to interpret and examine the human experience. Her newfound role as Carter Stevens — a girl who finds out her mother kidnapped her from her birth parents at the age of 3 and is propelled into a new world with her biological family — is a complex one. Prescott (best known for

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her role as Emily Fitch in the cult-followed British series “Skins”) was drawn to the intricate, complete female roles and familial undertones within the script, scattered with humor for punchy relief. And while her character is merely 16, the creation of a parallel experience through this younger identity forges an examination into family relationships and an appreciation for life in a way Millennials will respect — elaborate themes that are similarly prevalent in photographic art as well as scripted dramas.

WE ASKED PRESCOTT TO SHARE AN INSIDE LOOK AT HER LIFE FROM HER PERSPECTIVE, AND HER CAMERA.

Eidé Magazine: What does a day in your life look like — though we’re sure every day is different. Kathryn Prescott: There’s, now, no real, set schedule [on “Finding Carter”]. We have crazy hours. On Monday, I got up at 9 p.m. to go into work at 10:30 p.m. They have to give us a certain amount of hours to sleep and get ready before they can call us in the next day. So everyday, if we run over, then that means that we have to get up later the next day. So we have crazy weeks. We start on Monday getting up at 9 p.m., and then by the end of Friday, we’re shooting until 7 a.m. on Saturday morning. It messes with your brain because you can’t sleep. You don’t get used to doing nights, because you’re only doing nights like three nights a week. EM: With “Finding Carter,” this role is very deep, which means you have to be in a really intense place with your character for so long at night, in the morning — all the time. How do you cope with that? KP: Actually, a crazy schedule helps with that, because you feel all over the place anyway. And since I’ve been playing this character for three months now, it gets easier to stay in it all the time and when I’m on set. EM: How did this script and this character find you, and what were your first impressions of reading it? KP: I read it like 10 months ago. I got sent the script when I was in England. I taped myself doing the audition for it ... I really liked the script and character because of the shocking statistic that a lot of female characters in film and TV are usually only there because of their relationship to male characters. If there’s ever two women leading a show, it’s usually because they’re after the same guy. And it’s really weird when you think about it. But I read this script and all the female characters in this are complete characters on their own. Their storylines are not about chasing after a guy. Their storylines are about their own lives and their relationships to their family and friends. And their romantic relationships come secondary.

EM: The script is very unique. How did you prepare for this role? KP: The character is supposed to be a twin … And I’m a twin in real life, so that really helps. All the scenes that I had playing my twin, it just helped a lot thinking about my relationship with my own. I didn’t really read books about child abduction because the character didn’t spend her life reading books about it either — it just happened to her. EM: What do you feel are the differences between you and your character? KP: Carter’s 16, and I just turned 23 — so there’s that. I do think she’s much older for her age because she has this great single mom who has opened her eyes to the wider world, and then she comes into this new family and finds out all this stuff, so she has to grow up faster. But she’s still very much a 16-year-old girl … Carter definitely dresses younger than me. When the costume designer was deciding how she was going to dress, we were thinking about how so many teenage girls on TV don’t wear the same outfit twice, and that’s not really realistic. So she wears clothes from H&M, and she wears the same jeans all the time. She doesn’t have four walk-in closets full of clothes. EM: For someone who didn’t know about “Finding Carter,” in your words, why should they tune in? KP: It’s unique for MTV. They’re starting to do more scripted drama. It appeals to a huge amount of people because even though it’s about a 16-year-old girl, it’s also about relationships in the family. So anyone who’s had family issues ever — which is everyone — could watch it … It’s also hilarious. There were scenes I couldn’t even film because I was laughing so much. I think because the show is so dramatic they thought it needs some comedy, so there are funny scenes in it. It’s also about finding yourself … She’s finding who she thought she was and who she is now in this environment, with all these new people.

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Fireworks in Nashville for July 4th.

EM: How do you spend your time when you’re not working? KP: When I’m not working, I do photography. I would probably be doing photography if I wasn’t acting. EM: What do you love about photography? How does that fulfill you? KP: Acting is a hard thing to do. You’re creating something, but you can’t act on your own in a room because no one is there to watch it. But photography is something that once you create, you always have. I like that aspect. I used to do a lot of landscape photography when I started and always said that I thought I wasn’t that interested in photographing people, but as soon as I started taking portraits of

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View from the MTV tower in New York.

people, I wasn’t that interested in landscapes anymore. Taking pictures of people is my favorite thing … because taking pictures of people is all about trust and getting someone to show you their personality. I was talking to a photographer the other day and he was saying, “You can tell when the only portraits that work are ones where the person being shot trusts the person taking the photo.” That’s the actual skill of taking portraits. It’s about being good with people, getting to know people and not objectifying them to make an image out of them and that’s what is so cool. You can take a picture of twins who are exactly the same. And take another with the same camera, and it will be a completely different photo. You can’t take the same photo ever again.

An old building in Berlin, probably my favorite city.

EM: It sounds so intimate, getting to know somebody in that way for a portrait. KP: That’s the hard thing about it. I’m kind of still too scared to go up to people on the street because you are kind of objectifying them being like “Hey, can I take your picture?” The trick is making it about not objectifying them. It’s getting to know them and talking to them and after awhile being like, “You’re really interesting, and you’ve got an interesting face. Can I take your picture?” I think that’s the way to do it. I think the best photographers and the best directors are the ones that immediately are open and they don’t hold anything back about themselves. Those are the people who create the safest environment in which you can have your photograph taken or act in … rath-

Graffiti/art in New York.

er than if you meet a photographer that makes you feel instantly like they’re above you, like you have to impress them. EM: Do you have any interest in doing exhibitions of your photography in the future? KP: Yes. I’m already thinking about the next one. Like you said, it’s really hard to do it while I’m [acting]. But when I get back to L.A. I would really like to do another one. I’ve been speaking with a charity organization in L.A. called HHCLA [Homeless Health Care Los Angeles]. They work with people on Skid Row. It’s a really good organization. I think I might do something in collaboration with them, but I’m not sure yet. I have to figure it out when we finish this!

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T R AV E L

Y O U R I D E A L VAC AT I O N AWA I T S I N T U R KS A N D C A I CO S I S L A N D S

Story by BONNIE HERRING | Photos courtesy of brilliantstudios.com

hether it’s the memory of looking off in the distance and seeing nothing but a sea of blue, or the ingrained image of Leonardo DiCaprio shirtless and tan in The Beach, there is something about the thought of a solitary island that brings at once a feeling of serenity and adventure. Removed from the rest of the world, it’s a setting made for soul-searching of the life reinvigoration kind. As it turns out, you don’t need a secret map à la the 2000 cult film to find tropical bliss. It’s waiting just 550 miles

off the coast of Miami in the Caribbean paradise of Turks and Caicos. Located just below The Islands of the Bahamas, these island groups are easily and quickly reachable by plane. And while proximity and convenience can lead to overdevelopment and subsequent tourism overload, these non-commercialized islands have created a sanctuary seemingly undiscovered by the vacationing public. Crystal blue waters frame the sandy beaches of a place where time appears to stand still. The Turks and Caicos Islands are actually comprised of 40 islands and cays, only eight being inhabited. But

the most well-known of the islands is Providenciales, where I recently stayed. Affectionately referred to as “Provo,” Providenciales is the most populated and developed of the Turks and Caicos Islands, with a little over 1,500 residents settled into a 38-mile area. The island also attracts the most tourists each year with its award-winning 7-mile stretch of white, sandy beach, Grace Bay. Although Providenciales is now a hub for many businesses and tourist-centered services, its unsuccessful attempts at growing cotton once left the island desolate and forgotten. That is, until the modern tourist moveP R E - FA L L 2 0 1 4

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ment kicked in around 1984, bringing Club Med’s all-inclusive magic to Grace Bay, transforming the area and once again welcoming travellers, like me, back into its midst. A short ride through town and a small, winding road lead us to our beachside villa paradise. Our two-story stucco villa sat gracefully perched atop a cliff, surrounded by thick, green palms creating a natural privacy screen around our new abode. As I pushed open the heavy, wooden french doors leading out to the villa’s patio, the gentle Caribbean ocean breeze immediately greeted me like a hug from a long lost friend, and gently danced through the villa’s rooms, breathing life into the space with each sway of the long, sheer curtains. Fixing my gaze ahead on the dream-like landscape, the entire villa felt very much like a continuation of the paradise surrounding it. Huge, floor-to-ceiling open windows beckoned the serenity to come inside, and large hammocks practically begged for naps. Two private chefs prepared dinner for us in a kitchen overlooking the water. It wasn’t too long before we kicked back in the poolside loungers, sipping cocktails and taking in the pure tranquility of the villa as if we were on the set of a Hollywood movie.

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In addition to relaxing poolside, the activities on the island are vast — whether you live for adrenaline or lazy days. One of the most popular activities is a relatively new sport: kiteboarding. Combining the best of both worlds, kiteboarding pairs the simplicity of flying a kite with the extreme rush of wakeboarding and windsurfing. The boards can get up to 40 feet in the air, depending on the skill level of the user. For a more conventional adventure, Turks and Caicos has some of the most legendary scuba diving locations in the world. With walls made of star coral and an assortment of small aquatic life, like butterfly fish and barracudas, Northwest Point is a scuba diver’s dream. West Caicos boasts over two dozen dive sites filled with sponges, stingrays and even sharks and spotted eagle rays. French Cay is known for its scorpion and spade fish, while Grace Bay provides divers with ultra-blue waters spotted with sand chutes and Nassau groupers. If relaxation is higher up on your list of priorities, you can hop on an island tram and let the salty air waft over you as

you explore the town from the comfort of a cushioned trolley, or opt for a humpback whale tour, like we did. The whales love entertaining spectators as they travel through the area on their way to mating waters in spring. And of course, there’s always something about the beach’s warm sand and cool water that just rejuvenates the soul. Although I approached my weeklong island getaway with the desire to trade in my worldly woes for sand and strawberry daiquiris, I found that Turks and Caicos gave me more than that. What I gained from the seven days I spent on that beautiful island far exceeded the glittering beaches and exotic fish that now fill up the camera roll of my iPhone. I found that, as humans, we need balance. We need days spent lounging around and slipping our toes in the sand for hours on end, but we also need a good, heart-pumping adrenaline rush every now and then. Turks and Caicos was peaceful, yes, but it was also exciting, breathtaking and an adventure I won’t soon forget.

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Apple Pie Evan Kleiman [evankleiman.com]

Story by SHEYDA MEHRARA | Photography by JAMES RANSOM

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POTATO LATKES Taylor Cocalis Suarez + GOOD FOOD JOBS [goodfoodjobs.com]

Strawberries & Bitters Nathalie Jordi

[peoplespops.com]

s a child I begged my mom to make delicate, roasted chickpea flour cookies like my madarjoon’s (Persian for “nana”). She took pleasure in the fact that I craved a pastry so personal to her own childhood — and took even greater pleasure when I would come home irritated with other Persian mothers who had no idea how to make it the right way. It’s still one of her most coveted recipes, and people have started to question whether the secret ingredient is some sort of illicit drug. Even when she does share the list, others haven’t perfected her recipe because it’s “more of a feeling,” as she would say. She senses when the mixture needs more rosewater, if it feels too dry, or that she should add a touch of cardamom for brightness. Recipes were once hailed as treasures. The scrap of paper scribbled in code revealed memories so intimate to both the old and new cook. Only decades ago, chefs relied on handwritten or orally shared recipes. There was a sense of possession that came with years, if not generations, of experimentation to perfect a morsel. You weren’t just getting a recipe, you were reading someone’s manifesto. The list of ingredients, as simple as they might have been, came together to represent something as good as currency. Therefore, recipes were bartered in exchange for something of equal or greater value to the cook. An individual could be judged in their social circle simply by the recipes they had accumulated. Community was built through these trades, and the proof of these relationships could be found in a neatly orga-

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nized box atop the refrigerator. Perhaps the best example is kept in the National Archives — a shared recipe card between world powers Queen Elizabeth II and President Eisenhower. In August 1959, the President and his wife, Mamie, visited the Queen at Balmoral Castle in Scotland, and subsequently fell in love with the drop scones that were served. Five months later, Elizabeth sent Eisenhower the sought-after recipe and a personal letter as a memento for his time spent at Balmoral. Although the recipe was typed, the handwritten additions included a measuring unit in teacups and a suggestion for using treacle (sugar syrup) instead of fine sugar. Then came the advent of the Internet, and it changed the way we digest recipes. The growing popularity of food blogs thereafter brought with it a pinnacle in the culinary evolution. Consequently, the act of coming together in person to pass along these food stories has waned. It’s just more convenient to go to the screen instead of calling your aunt or looking for that aged scrap of paper. Think of the last time you wanted to try a recipe. You more than likely Googled it. You clicked on the first couple of links that SEO deemed worthy until you found what looked most appealing to the eyes. Websites like epicurious.com that allow a user to comment and tweak a published recipe begs the question of whether or not there’s still a place for the stalwart, traditional forms of recipes. Would Queen Elizabeth II’s recipe for drop scones still be special, or even considered hers, if hundreds of users proposed their recommendations?

EVOO ICE CREAM Diana Hardeman & MILKMADE [milkmadeicecream.com]

EVOO ICE CREAM

Diana Hardeman & MILKMADE

MAKES 1 QUART

1. Cook whole milk, ¾ cup heavy cream, sugar, sea salt over medium heat.

Equipment Needed

2. Set up an ice bath by placing a small bowl in a larger bowl partially filled with ice and water. Pour the remaining ¾ cup cream into the smaller bowl and set a strainer over the top of the smaller bowl.

ice cream machine mesh strainer candy thermometer

For the ‘Scream 1 ½ cups whole milk 1 ½ cups heavy cream ½ cup sugar ½ tsp sea salt 4 egg yolks ½ cup extra virgin olive oil

For the Chocolate Swirl 1 cup sugar ½ cup water ½ cup cream 3½ oz cocoa powder 1 tsp vanilla

3. In a separate bowl, whisk together the egg yolks. 4. Once the milk and cream mixture is steamy, temper the egg yolks by gradually pouring some milk into the yolks, whisking constantly. Transfer the warmed yolks and milk back into the saucepan. 5. Cook over low heat, stirring constantly, until the custard reaches 160ºF, or when it’s thick enough to coat the back of the spoon. 6. Strain mixture into the small bowl of cream on the ice bath. Add the olive oil and stir to mix. 7. Refrigerate custard for at least 8 hours, or overnight. Freeze in an ice cream machine according to the manufacturer's instructions. 8. Add the chocolate swirl: whisk together cocoa powder, sugar, water, and cream in a medium saucepan. Heat over medium heat, whisking frequently, until it just begins to boil. Then remove from heat and let cool. Once cool, swirl chocolate sauce into ice cream immediately after it has finished churning.

Kitchen Letters arrive twice a month with a recipe card (shown) and a note from the chef detailing their story.

Food52 stylist and founder of KTCHN13, Bryce Longton, thinks so. With her intention to guide people back into the kitchen, KTCHN13 aims to bring a personal touch back to the time-honored convention of recipe sharing. The endeavor started with the service Kitchen Letters in September of 2013, the first medium of KTCHN13 to foster community over the kitchen table through anecdotes, tips and tricks. Twice a month, a subscriber receives a recipe through the mail — we’re talking old school postage style — from chefs and artisans around the country, along with a personal letter. “I feel like this megaphone,” Longton says. “I’m constantly inspired by food startups, and I want to be able to share these great discoveries with people who are willing to listen and learn. I want people to feel comfortable in the kitchen.” With this singular fascination and a belief that people are more inclined to try individual recipes, Longton sought out culinary movers and shakers like the Mast Brothers of Mast Brothers Chocolate and Dominique Ansel, mastermind behind the unprecedented Cronut. It’s her way of connecting the artist to the consumer, and calling them back into the kitchen. Stories like the one penned by her friend Diana Hardeman of MilkMade Ice Cream, a monthly membership that delivers two fresh-crafted pints of ice cream to its subscribers, are the reason why she believes classic recipe sharing is far from extinct. In Longton’s mind, people crave the story. “[Diana] was going on the ‘Rachael Ray Show,’ and she was telling me about the night before the

appearance. She decided she wanted to do an olive oil flavor of ice cream, but as she’s making it she realizes that it’s turning into butter,” Longton explains. “She had overturned the ice cream she was making for Rachael Ray, had to start all over again and was mortified.” Mistakes aside, olive oil butter sounds delicious; but Hardeman’s anecdote provides insight into how we learn our best recipes from our mishaps. The takeaway from her story is more than “don’t overturn the olive oil ice cream the night before you go on a nationally televised cooking show.” Shared recipes in any form become a journal that charts the progression of a personal culinary journey. “We aren’t stuck in the day and age anymore where ‘How to Cook Everything’ or a Julia Child cookbook is the only resource we’re limited to,” Longton says. “It’s become natural to share, and I don’t think that’s a bad thing at all. Fewer and fewer people are keeping things to themselves, but it doesn’t make it any less yours when you share it with those around you.”

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SOCIETY

Daytime UNRAVELING THE MODERN DAY SOAP OPERA

Dirty Story by ASHLEY BRECHTEL

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I N A L A N D FA R , FA R AWAY,

arly, a stunning blonde who is currently dating a reformed serial killer, just told her four-timesover ex-husband, Sonny, (who is also the town’s mob boss) some shocking news: the man he recently killed for murdering his fiancé was, in fact, innocent. The real killer is the woman he just had an affair with despite the fact that she’s been dating Sonny’s son. Meanwhile, on the other side of town, a drug bust just went down and so far, the ring leader’s identity is only known by the millions of viewers who tune in Monday through Friday. This is all happening in Port Charles, a fictional New York town, which is the setting for the daytime hit “General Hospital.” This popular show began in 1963 and over a half-century later it ranks as the longest running American soap opera still in production. “General Hospital”’s success can, undoubtedly, be attributed to its ability to deliver a constant stream of sex, drugs, lies and people coming back from the dead. Seriously, no one ever stays dead. Ever. Soap operas began on the radio in the 1930s to cater to the millions of presumably bored housewives. Knowing exactly who their target audience was, advertisers peddled cleaning products during commercial breaks. Couple that with the dramatic story lines that unraveled each episode and the term “soap opera” made perfect sense. The daytime drama concept took off after its transition to television in 1946 and by the 1950s housewives all across the country made sure to tune in to their favorite “story” each day. What set the soap opera apart from other types of programming was the continuous, intertwined storylines. Episodes were left open-ended with the promise of a resolution always on the horizon. Women everywhere were being drawn into the lives of these characters and their circumstances day after day and always left wanting more. By the late 1960s it was apparent that the soap opera was a success and the big three networks all had their hands

in the cookie jar. But during the late ’90s, soap opera viewership began to decline. With more women working outside of the home, the genre’s target audience was no longer available to stay tuned in day after day. Factor in the rise of talk shows, game shows and the popularity of the Internet and soaps got lost in the shuffle. By the mid 2000s, it was undeniable that soap operas were a dying breed. In April 2011, ABC announced that they were cancelling “All My Children” and “One Life To Live,” two shows that had been on the air for over 40 years. Today, there are only four daytime soap operas on television — a stark contrast to years past when soaps dominated the airwaves. It’s understandable that the genre hasn’t always appealed to the masses, and fans today refer to soap operas as their “guilty pleasure” or “dirty little secret.” After all, they are ridiculous. This is a world where everyone is beautiful and wealthy. Working moms wear designer dresses and stilettos to bring their children to the park — never mind that there was just a shootout at that very park the day before. Only in the world of soap operas can someone hold a pregnant woman hostage in a secret panic room in hopes of stealing her child one year, and be an upstanding member of society the next (oh, how quickly people forget). But aside from being a source of unabashed entertainment value, soap operas have actually contributed to some real societal changes over the years. For decades, soaps have stayed on the cusp of current events, the impact being that women weren’t just zoning out to watch vapid programming each day, they were being educated and challenged in their thinking. Storylines were (and still are) designed as a resource for women to use in their real lives; rape, domestic abuse, mental illness — all taboo topics that unfolded day after day to characters that viewers developed relationships with. And as plots evolved, so did people’s opinions about controversial issues like homosexuality, sexually transmitted diseases, mental disorders and a host of other issues not usually discussed aloud.

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In 1962, for example, Agnes Nixon, creator of several popular daytime dramas and writer for “Guiding Light,” lost a friend to cervical cancer. She decided to use this platform to gain awareness for the disease by writing it into the show. Diagnosing character Bert Bauer with cervical cancer was quite the feat considering that, at that time, words such as “cancer”, “uterus” and “Pap smear” weren’t allowed on television, ultimately making Nixon a pioneer for publicly discussing women’s health issues and preventive care. In the ’70s, with the Vietnam War in full swing, “All My Children” (created by Nixon) introduced character Ruth Brent Martin (played by actress Mary Fickett), an anti-war liberal who publicly protested against the war. Before this, no television show had ever discussed war. The protest speech led to an Emmy Award for Fickett — the first ever given to a soap opera performer.

mors were being addressed. Learning that you couldn’t catch AIDS through casual contact helped break down the stigma of a new and scary disease. And when “General Hospital”’s character Robin Scorpio-Drake found out she had AIDS in the ’90s it shattered stereotypes and shook nerves: she was a young, white middle-class girl who contracted HIV from her first love. A decade later and Scorpio-Drake still has a recurring role on the popular soap. Viewers have watched her become a successful wife and mother, despite her diagnosis. And then there’s the storyline of Terrence Frye, an African American character on “All My Children,” whose experience of being beaten by two white men in 1992 reminded people that racism was still a very real problem. This was especially relevant as just one year before, Rodney King made headlines when he was beaten by Los Angeles police. Yes, soap operas may be an acquired taste,

IMAGINE FOLLOWING A CHARACTER’S LIFE FOR OVER 40 YEARS.

Three years later, Susan Lucci’s character Erica Kane had the first legal abortion aired on American television, just a few months after the landmark Roe v. Wade decision gave women the right to choose. Particularly shocking was the reason for her decision: she didn’t want to gain weight and lose her modeling career. While the writers could have pacified the audience by introducing the abortion as a resolution to a life-threatening medical condition, they instead showed a woman simply making the decision to not go through with a pregnancy. This sparked both outrage and debate during a time when it was desperately needed. Then in the ’80s, not only did “All My Children” reveal that character Cindy Parker Chandler had AIDS, they also shared relevant information to the public about a very misunderstood disease. For the first time, viewers were learning about how the disease was transmitted and treated. More importantly, ru-

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but they are also a misunderstood one. If soap opera junkies don’t feel the need to hide their fandomness, they are at least compelled to defend it. However, that shouldn’t be too hard to do. Soap operas offer steady entertainment and a continuous story seven days a week, yearround. There is no off-season. Imagine following a character’s life for over 40 years. No other form of television entertainment can boast the same results. And while the digital age may have attributed to soaps’ downfall, the Internet does make it possible for avid fans to stay abreast of what’s happening on their favorite daytime drama, housewife or not. With Hulu and network websites, viewers don’t have to be in front of their television at the same time every day. In fact, when “One Life To Live” and “All My Children” were cut from ABC, they were picked up by Hulu to the delight of their faithful followers.

SOCIETY

Gabriel García Márquez, Banned Books & Porn IN OTHER WORDS, HOW ONE AUTHOR S H O W E D M Y W O R L D T H AT S E X I S A R T.

Story by JOANNA BERLINER

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"The year I turned ninety, I wanted to give myself the gift of a night of wild love with an adolescent virgin.”

(“Call me Ishmael,” it looks like you’ve been topped.) So begins Gabriel García Márquez’s racy final book, “Memories of My Melancholy Whores.” It was the only book of his I hadn’t read at the time of his death this past spring. I cried when I heard the news. Dramatic, perhaps — but I’d spent my entire adult life in awe of the master of magical realism. He was my Alexander McQueen; my John Lennon. The night his death broke, I bought “Memories of My Melancholy Whores” and told my regimented no-later-than-midnight bedtime to shove it. In the name of mourning, I had whores to read about. Or, rather, a 90-year-old man and his adoration of a prepubescent prostitute. Several hours later, book complete, I was moved. It was racy, yes. But it had also proven to be far more than its title. What so easily could have been back-of-the-shelf porn was, true to its author, a lyrical story of an old man’s first taste of love. As John Updike put it in The New Yorker, it’s really “a love letter to the dying light.” I had to share. So the next morning, blearyeyed, I packed the book into my work tote and dropped it off on the desk of my direct report, an exceptionally sharp copywriter, with a note:

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“Just a little light reading.” The deed was done. The Aftermath: 45 Minutes Later Back at my desk, I flipped. Something in my gut — or was it HR’s required “harassment training”? — alerted me: not safe for work. I mean, this is a book that debuted in Iran in 2007 under another name, “Memories of My Melancholy Sweethearts,” so the local publishers could get it past censors. (All 5,000 copies sold before the authorities realized what they let slip through the cracks.) It’s a book that, in 2009, turned the conversation in Mexico City to sex between old men and young girls, sparking bitter debate over child trafficking and the glorification of the sexual exploitation of children, halting a movie based on García Márquez’s book mid-production. Was I, by giving this strange, little story to my subordinate — a woman who spends her life writing words — acting in bad taste? Was passing along these sexually bold, beautiful words the same as silently dropping off a copy of “Fifty Shades of Grey,” pages dog-eared at every gag-worthy mention of “my inner goddess”? As forwarding a suggestive BuzzFeed list or handing her a Maxim magazine, centerfold proudly open? Where is the line between porn and art?

here, sitting at my desk ignoring the ping of emails piling up in Outlook, I suddenly didn’t know anymore. Taken over by what I can call nothing else but “word fear,” I rushed to her desk to snap that book right back up. Bless my heart, it was untouched and unseen. The rest of the workday, I moped. All my life, raised to truly believe in freedom of speech (thank you, forefathers), I thought I was above this. Words — even the raciest — are worth reading when they’re handled with beauty. Even if they go against every truth I’ve ever known. But the workplace complicates things. There is no defined “what to do when you want to give your coworker a book about whores” section in our company manual. So I did what we all tend to do these days when at an absolute loss: I Googled. And Google, as it always does, welcomed me with answers. Word Fear: A History Apparently, this “word fear” started thousands of years ago. In fact, the first-ever book was banned way back in 466 B.C. Athenians had just learned to read and write. (Before then, all reading meant reading out loud.) A philosopher by the name of Anaxagoras penned the first scientific publication, On Nature, declaring that the sun was actually a “white-hot stone.” Sure, it wasn’t porn, but at the time, the Greeks believed that Helios, god of the sun, was actually the sun itself. Which meant oops, Anaxagoras — too racy. The text was declared derogatory to the Greeks’ theological beliefs and burned. The philosopher was banished, just barely escaping death. After such a terrifying welcoming party for the written word, who are we not to fear it? For the next thousand years, the Vatican continued to perpetuate this fear — believing that they, not the individual, could define the line between heresy and art. During the Middle Ages, entire libraries were burned to the ground; manuscripts lost forever before the invention of Gutenberg’s printing press could manufacture copies in volumes too great for the Vatican to censor.

But this isn’t simply ancient stuff. In 19th century Manhattan, a man by the name of Anthony Comstock worked with states to censor everything from erotic dime store novels to the racy works of prodigies like D.H. Lawrence and George Bernard Shaw — an alleged 160 tons of “indecent” literature by the time of his death in 1915. And today? The American Library Association reported 5,099 book challenges — or attempts to remove books from a curriculum or library — between 2000 and 2009 alone. Let Freedom Ring: A Revelation I read all of this. And then I read some more. And when I thought I was done reading? I stumbled on Banned Book Week — an entire week in September dedicated to the freedom to read; to read anything, even what others feel is unorthodox or objectionable. A week for people who care about books and ideas to come together to support the concept that an individual should be free to choose the books they wish to read. And then it hit me. Thousands of miles away from the Vatican, I was the Vatican. By refusing to give my colleague the book, I was actually contributing to its censorship. I was no better than Athens banishing Anaxagoras or Comstock declaring D.H. Lawrence’s “Lady Chatterley’s Lover” unfit to read. Who was HR to decide whether a book written by one of the world’s most brilliant authors (call me biased) is worth a read? And who was I? If I truly valued freedom of speech, I would let the individual decide on her own. I would give “Memories of My Melancholy Whores” to my direct report and let her open the first page and pause over each and every word: The. Year. I. Turned. Ninety. I. Wanted. To. Give. Myself. The. Gift. Of. A. Night. Of. Wild. Love. With. An. Adolescent. Virgin. I would grant her the power to weigh in — porn or art? The power to report me as a heretic. To banish me from the office. Or to stay up the night reading and in the morning, bleary-eyed, pass those sexually bold, beautiful words along to someone else: “Just a little light reading.”

And that is exactly what I did.

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SWE ATER, $ 295 A N D SHIRT, $ 195 , BIL LY R EID, KN IT SHORTS, $ 9 8 A N D KN IT BOW T IE, $75, BOTH SAKS F IF T H AV EN U E COL L E C TION, ALL AT SA KS F IF T H AV EN U E.

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Photography by JR WEST Styling by TIAN JUSTMAN Model: BLAKE BALLARD for Click Models Hair and Makeup by JAIME KIMBROUGH Assistant Stylist: ALISA HUTCHINSON

K N I T P I C K S

QUARTER-ZI P BI R DSEYE SW EAT ER , $ 178 A N D JACQUARD CASHM ER E SW EAT ER , $ 2 2 8 , B OTH SAKS FIFTH AV EN UE COL L EC T I ON , BOT H AT SA KS FIFTH AVEN U E. SHIRT, $79 A N D PA N TS , $1 49, BOTH SUITSU P P LY, BOT H AT SU ITSUP P LY.

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K N I T JAC K E T, $1 ,04 5 , SW E ATE R, $ 595 AND K N I T PA N TS , $595 , A L L E M P O RI O ARM ANI , A L L AT SA KS F I F TH AV ENUE.

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K N IT JACKET, $ 3 49, SHI RT, $79 A N D KN I T B OW TI E , $6 5 , A LL SUITSU P P LY, A L L AT SU ITS U P P LY.

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C A B L E SW E ATE R , $1 2 9, S U I TS U P P LY, AT S U I TS U P P LY. S C A R F, $6 0, M A R I DA D I TR A DI NG, AT MA R I DA D I TR A D I N G .CO M.

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H OODIE, $ 129 A N D C A R D IG A N , $ 9 9, BOT H S UITSUP P LY, BOT H AT SU ITSU P P LY. SWA N TS PANTS, SY LIST ’S C USTOM C R EAT ION , TUTORIA L ON W EST KN ITS.COM .

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SW E ATS H I RT, $1 4 5 , M OST LY HEARD R A R E LY S E E N , AT SA KS F I FT H AVENUE.

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FA S H I O N

WHY SNEAKERS ARE

THE NEW STILETTOS H OW A C A S U A L L I F E S T Y L E I S S H A P I N G O U R FA S H I O N TA S T E

Story by JAIME LIN WEINSTEIN | Photos courtesy of CHANEL

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“A woman with good shoes is never ugly,” Coco Chanel once claimed. “They are the last touch of elegance.”

ut I wonder if the sneakers Karl Lagerfeld featured on the Chanel Fall 2014 Ready-To-Wear runway were within the realm of elegance to which she referred. Granted, these were not your average athletic shoes. Complete with Chanel’s iconic tweed, and at times extended with gaiters to become boots, they appear to be made for one’s daily to-dos, rather than the treadmill. Still, so-called “elegant” footwear of the original No. 5 generation was more likely to be pumps with a curved vamp and kitten heel. Lagerfeld wasn’t the only one. Raf Simons debuted slipon sneakers for Dior alongside Chanel during the couture shows this year. Rick Owen’s version of the modern trainer was leather and knee high. DKNY’s got a platform lift. Some may say that it merely reflects a trend (like butterfly prints or Birkenstocks). But it’s more than a passing phase when a style of clothing once reserved for working out becomes acceptable in our everyday wardrobe. It’s a change in fashion taste. It reflects the latest movement in a society with a penchant for comfort. And it’s been not-so-secretly developing over the past few years. As the digital age kicked our modern existence into high-speed, a casual approach to everything from communication (why call when you can text the same sentiment in 100 characters?) to en-

tertainment (why go to the movies when you can download films on the Internet?) took hold. And the rules governing fashion decorum followed suit. Wearing what’s fast and easy started to matter more than maintaining a formal appearance. Casual Fridays turned into casual every-days. Jeans were deemed acceptable for almost any occasion. And velour tracksuits from Juicy Couture became commonplace. Street-style culture was already embracing casual attire thanks to the growing influence of hip-hop and movements that coincided with it, specifically, breaking — an acrobatic dance style with an aesthetic that evolved out of functionality: oversized clothing like cargo pants and hoodies to conceal padding and for ease of movement, beanies to aid head spinning. Then a time-pressed, gym-obsessed generation welcomed luxury fitness apparel designed to go from work to spinning to the supermarket. (Overall apparel sales rose 2 percent last year in the United States, while activewear sales climbed 9 percent — to $33 billion — according to market research company NPD Group.) So it appears Chanel’s footwear is simply representative of luxury consumerism in this casual age. The runway show itself was staged at the Grand Palais-turned-Chanel Supermarché, where models walked down aisles

of Chanel-branded products (hello Coco Flakes!). Dr. Stanley Lieberson, Abbott Lawrence Lowell Research Professor of Sociology at Harvard College and author of “A Matter of Taste: How Names, Fashions and Culture Change,” calls it the “Ratchet Effect.” Basically, new tastes evolve from existing tastes, and the change is based on longterm movements in one direction (like the acceptable length of a skirt getting shorter and shorter over a certain period of time). A year-toyear shift may appear modest, but when examined from a prolonged perspective these changes become visible, revealing a new level of taste, and a new view on what can be considered “tasteful.” Of course, there are external forces present that contribute to the acceleration of a changing taste (mass media, television, celebrities), but the shift toward a more casual style of dress has been progressing for centuries. Think of pants, for a pre-television, pre-digital age example. Pants were once limited to the male members of society. The cycling craze in the late 1800s first brought the need for clothing with a greater freedom of movement than the long, heavy, multilayered skirts of the Victorian era allowed, ushering in the acceptance of “bloomers” as standard bicycle wear. With the arrival of World War I, many women took the place of men in the workforce

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Come Say Hi.

ARI GRAYNOR HOLLYWOOD IS CALLING

THE GENIUS ISSUE

IN SEARCH OF THE

SUITABLE MAN

SEPT/OCT 2012

eidemagazine.com

where they were allowed to wear trousers and overalls onslaught of criticism and disapproving messages directwhile working in factories. Females then increasingly ed toward Editor-in-Chief Anna Wintour, the issue flew started wearing pants for sports and other leisure activities off newsstands and the hashtag was quickly trending on (horseback riding, tennis). And the Second World War Twitter worldwide. Let’s not forget that Vogue, under the gave a boost in pant popularity as even more women were direction of Wintour, has long been at the forefront of changing tastes. She first shocked the placed in wartime jobs and often wore their husbands’ as a result of clothing ra“THE CHANGE fashion world when she put a model jeans on the cover in 1988, an tionings. By the ’60s, pants on women IN OUR FASHION wearing item of clothing that had never before were widely accepted across the globe. The change in our fashion tastes ex- TASTES EXTENDS graced the front of a fashion magazine. BEYOND THE Reflecting on the infamous denim covtends beyond the realm of clothing, too. Kim Kardashian and Kanye West notorier, she said, “It looked easy, casual, a REALM OF moment that had been snapped on the ously landed the cover of this year’s April CLOTHING” street, which it had been, and which was Vogue, but the outrage over the country’s “fashion bible” allowing a reality-television star and her the whole point … I had just looked at that picture and rapper fiancé to grace the cover was almost usurped by sensed the winds of change. And you can’t ask for more from a cover image than that.” another questionable character of taste: the hashtag. Maybe we’ll soon see Ms. Wintour wearing sneakers #WORLDSMOSTTALKEDABOUTCOUPLE it read under the “Kim & Kanye” headline. And despite the with her Chanel, too.

FA S H I O N

Story by JENNIFER SMITH WILLIAMS Photography by COLBY BLOUNT

FRINGE BENEFITS How Southern charm and French class helped forge a new designer.

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Pieces from the Aztec Collection

Story by JENNIFER SMITH WILLIAMS | Photography by COLBY BLOUNT

“So, I just took some old, vintage fabric that we had in the studio, ripped it up and hung it around my neck. That was the first scarf necklace.” Though it might have come from humble beginnings, Mignonne Gavigan’s namesake line is anything but. Her one-of-a-kind, beaded scarf necklaces now sell for upwards of half a grand, and the intricate beading and personal touch in each one are enough to set Mignonne Gavigan New York apart

from every other accessory brand. Plus, the line is a leader in innovative textiles. Where else can you get a statement necklace made of chiffon and adorned with metal sequins and ostrich feathers? But, it takes more than a flair for DIY to turn an idle craft project into a thriving business, and for Gavigan it was a conversation with her mom after finishing a political science degree that officially spurred her transition into fashion. P R E - FA L L 2 0 1 4

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Stripes, $375

Le Marcel, $725

“I had finished up classes at Paris-Sorbonne University and I was still living there, so I went to my mom for advice on what to do next,” Charlotte-born Gavigan says. “She asked me quite directly what I wanted to do, and I knew it was fashion. So she said, ‘well you should go to fashion school.’ And I did!” Gavigan went on to be accepted (and excel) at Parsons Paris School of Art & Design in the fashion design program. By the next summer, she’d moved to New York City and was finishing her degree there, while logging hours for Marc Jacobs and a local PR firm on the side. Born and raised in North Carolina, she says she was definitely bred with the Southern hospitality gene. Maybe that’s what sparked her journey through myriad scholastic experiences — that, and the fact that she’d always had a knack for drawing, building and creating (whether with high-end fabric or construction paper) helped. She even managed to find a fellow Southerner — now her husband — in the big city. The two sat next to each other at a dinner party with mutual friends, connected the next day and have been together ever since. They live in Tribeca and work in the city, but make it a point to get back below the Mason-Dixon line at every chance. “It’s totally helped me being from the South,” Gavigan says with a laugh, recounting stories of pitch meetings with her best friend and sales manager for the Mignonne Gavigan brand. “People on sales calls really responded to us, because we’re so nice and friendly. We would walk into these offices and they’d be enveloped after like two seconds of hearing us talk. They’d say, ‘You’re way too nice and way too friendly, but we love you.’ It was pretty awesome.” Gavigan has always felt that being from the South also gave her an edge on learning how to read people.

Like when she discovered her former business partner was ripping her off. The two met when Gavigan began talking with buyers about getting her brand out on the market. “I was so naïve. I mean, I was just drowning in work, so I was just happy to have someone to help me,” she recalls. But then things took a turn. “Ultimately, she called herself the designer and when we went to court over it, I found out that she filed for the LLC in her name. That tainted my view of other people. I am from the South, so I expect people to treat me as I treat them.” But for the girl who’s worked for Rachel Roy, Marc Jacobs, Khirma Eliazov and others, no infringement in the world could hold back her creative potential. She traded in her long hours, exotic trips and big name brands to re-launch her self-titled company and “the original scarf necklace.” Now with four classic lines and a seasonal rotating collection, she’s in the loop on this new niche in the fashion world. Last season introduced us to Kinsey Pink, a scarf necklace featuring seed beads and leather sequins (her personal favorite) and inspired by a vintage piece of upholstery she saw while on a trip that, to her, “just truly represented modern sensibility.” “You learn that no matter how cool, how aesthetically forward or couture something is, it still has to look good on the hanger if you want it to turn into money in your bank account,” she says, while demonstrating ways to layer the Spring/Summer 2014 collection’s Stripes Coral and Le Charlot Pearl collection’s Charo 4 Pearl in Black (a $670 accessory combo). “I love watching people’s faces light up when they put on something they like,” she says. “For me, fashion is a process of exploration. It’s always about wearing something that makes me excited.” Our décolletages have never been so thrilled, either.

“FOR ME, FASHION IS A PROCESS OF EXPLORATION. IT’S ALWAYS ABOUT WEARING SOMETHING THAT MAKES ME EXCITED.”

View the entire line at mignonnegavigan.com.

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Gavigan in her New York City apartment/studio.

k FA S H I O N

now Thysef, Be Thyself Nine rules to achieving great personal style from writer, art director and founder of Southern style blog, The Love List. BY JESS GRAVES

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Fashion is one thing, style is entirely another.

ashion is dictated; style is interpreted. It’s that quirk, that charm, that thing that makes your “look” particularly, well … yours. The modern definition of personal style has mutated into an amalgam of creativity and commerce, mostly driven by fashion blogs. Who knew some girl posing on the sidewalk in loud outfits would spark a revolution? The public appetite for fashion content to consume is ravenous, endless and strangely repetitive. There’s a major stench of FOMO (fear of missing out) swirling around, driving it all. The chase after prize items like Valentino shoes and Céline handbags, which have become so pervasive (and even in some cases, trite) as a result, seems exhausting to me. It’s a giant sartorial rat race, and one I’ve never felt compelled to enter. I have immense respect for the girls and guys who are out there generating quality content, driving fashion forward in a way that couldn’t have existed a handful of years ago. These folks are thought leaders, and I couldn’t do what I do had they not blown the door wide open for me. Influence is necessary to inform anyone’s taste. What muddles their message is the vain drivel, the Polly-want-a-handbags who aren’t

driving anything but clichés into the ground. Some simply take something that is supposed to be about the individual and convert it into a vast sea of sameness. In the process, they are cheapening the definition and value of great personal style. The good thing about this particular climate is that you can make a name for yourself purely by being yourself. And thank goodness that the real premium is not on labels but on originality: knowing who the hell you are, then bearing down and sticking to it. Those are the women who transfix you. They’re cool and they’re interesting and you can’t even really place why. Maybe that woman is a blogger, or maybe she’s an editor, or maybe she’s just the girl in front of you in line at Starbucks. In my opinion, the act of replicating someone’s personal style is kind of an arbitrary one. It’s the way something is being worn, not what is being worn after all. It’s the woman inside those clothes — her confidence, her attitude, her walk. These are not things you can buy or successfully emulate, because these things are inherently her. She might inspire you, but you cannot be her, because you are you — and thank God for that! These are my rules for finding your own style. Mine isn’t for sale.

“WHO KNEW SOME GIRL

POSING ON THE SIDEWALK IN LOUD OUTFITS WOULD SPARK A REVOLUTION?” P R E - FA L L 2 0 1 4

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k 9. Stop apologizing for what you like. We all have different ideas about how we want to present ourselves to the world based on who we think we are. Me? I’ve always been a tomboy, and I don’t see that ever changing. Are there people who comment they’d like to see me in a dress every once in awhile? Yeah. And maybe I’d look great, but I wouldn’t feel great. So instead of apologizing for the fact that I live in blue jeans and button downs, I own it. Which leads me to rule 8 … 8. Adopt a uniform. When I was a kid, I wore denim overalls over a plain white t-shirt damn near any time I could get away with it. Was it because I didn’t have a closet full of clothes at home? Nope. It was because overalls made me feel good. They freed me up to focus on other things because I was comfortable with the way I looked. I’ll still wear the same thing over and over (see rule 9). Plus, it makes getting dressed in the morning way less agonizing when you’re working from the same base. It’s like Deion Sanders famously quipped in GQ, “You look good, you feel good. You feel good, you play good. You play good, they pay good.”

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a time and place for an oversize sweater or a body-hugging black dress, I think it’s safe to say you can generally veer away from things that swallow you up or reveal too much. Modest is hottest because good fit will show off everything you want to emphasize in a much sexier (less overt) way. 6. Tune out the noise. Don’t let “blogland” give you fashion FOMO. Enjoy the webosphere for all its glory, then think about the things in your closet you reach for time and time again, and buy lots of them. Buy it because it feels you and feels good, not because someone else has it. For this reason, I have umpteen pairs of black pants, blue jeans, blazers and button downs. For this same reason, you will never see me rock a pair of Rockstud heels. 5. Stop worshiping labels. Speaking of Rockstuds, would you even like them if they weren’t Valentino? Ask yourself why you like something. Don’t buy it just because it’s Chanel. Buy it because it’s a gorgeous handbag you’ll invest in, wear a million times and pass down to your daughter.

7. Pay attention to fit.

4. Don’t be a shopping snob.

Something that fits your body just right is worth the investment in tailoring. It’s what turns a shirt you might never wear into your new favorite. Fit is up to interpretation based on body type, and while there’s

The high/low mix is no joke — it might be the single uniting force behind nearly every deeply stylish person. You are not too good for H&M or hand-me-downs. Ebay is awesome! Etsy rules! Goodwill is

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good! An old pair of my uncle’s Ray Ban Clubmasters has given me more mileage than any expensive trendy cat-eye mirrored lens whatnot I ever wasted my dollars on. My favorite pair of black pumps were purchased at Zara, and they sit in my closet next to Ferragamo as equals. 3. Recognize when you look worse. If your bathroom tile is stained a permanent shade of orange, step away from the spray tan booth. I’m all for a good blowout and I hate chipped nails, but being so “done” that the whole thing falls apart if you get caught in a little rain is not going to do anything but stress you out. 2. Be careful with trends. To quote the great philosopher Cher Horowitz: “Do you prefer fashion victim or ensembly challenged?” I’m all about things that are new and exciting, but a classic will never let you down, so spend accordingly. Choose one trend per outfit and make it subtle — a homage to the fact you’re aware of what’s current — and interpret it in your own way. Make trends your bitch, not the other way around. 1. Dress for yourself. If you take nothing else away, take this: At the end of the day, personal style stems from confidence, which only comes from knowing yourself. So first and foremost, make yourself happy. You’re the only one looking back in the mirror.

10th Annual Taste of Buckhead We invite you to join us for a night of culinary adventure and camaraderie. Hosted by:

September 18, 2014 at the Buckhead Theatre Tickets are on sale at: tasteofbuckhead.org

Chef Art Smith Southern Art

Chef Linton Hopkins Restaurant Eugene

VOTED ONE OF THE

TO P 1 0 0 S A LO N S IN THE U.S.

WWW. DY ER A N D P OSTA .COM

770. 51 4 .1 6 20 600 CHASTAIN R D. SU IT E 3 12 KEN N ESAW, G A 3 01 4 4

LIP

SMACKERS Photography by JIMMY JOHNSTON Styling by TIAN JUSTMAN Models: BECCA and MARYSE for Factor Atlanta Hair Styling and Makeup by KATIE BALLARD

he link between what sustains us and beauty — you’ll see it just by glancing at the bottom of a lipstick tube. No doubt a name like “Candy Apple Red” or “Very Berry Purple” is printed there. Or take the Marc Jacobs Fall 2014 show where many of his models rocked grey lids with chocolate liner, or the Anna Sui models with bold green and blue lids resembling some-

thing right out of the produce section, and see that food inspires more than just mealtime. But the vegetation we aspire to emulate in pigment actually features the capacity to enhance our skin and hair with vitamins and minerals. Inspiring colors are just the beginning — the underlying power of these fruits and vegetables can be harnessed for the greater good of your beauty routine*.

*Note: please consult your physician and/or dermatologist before beginning a new skin care or dietary regimen.

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GOLDEN BEET Beta vulgaris

Great For: Glowing Skin The great purifier, the beet clarifies the blood and helps clean out toxins from the body — the result of which is radiant, glowing skin. Detoxifying by adding beets into your regimen will help you naturally achieve the supple skin you’re aiming for in a highlighting cream. Drinking beet juice regularly will help facilitate the skin’s coveted luminescence and administering it to the skin will offer hydrating results. P R E - FA L L 2 0 1 4

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POMEGRANATE Punica granatum

Great for: Dry Skin The omega-5 fatty acid called punicic acid, found in pomegranate, is extremely hydrating and penetrates deep into the skin. This makes pomegranate oil especially beneficial for treating dry skin, and helps prevent the loss of moisture over time. Drink plentiful amounts of the juice or apply pomegranate seed oil to the skin weekly for best results.

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KIWI

Actinidia deliciosa Great for: Skin Firming Copious amounts of vitamin C in this little green wonder help the body produce more collagen, which is the structural protein found in skin that plays a major role in firmness and elasticity. Kiwi extract, in fact, stimulates the growth of collagen and helps the dermis appear smoother. Enjoy eating the fruit on the regular. The inner pulp can also be added to almost anything (almonds, yogurt, etc.) and applied to skin as a treatment. P R E - FA L L 2 0 1 4

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ENOKI MUSHROOMS Flammulina velutipes

Great for: Even Complexion These fungi are full of the anti-inflammatory, antioxidant vitamins and amino acids that benefit the skin. Research has found that mushroom-based skin products show an impressive reduction in skin inflammation, calming redness in the face, even in cases of rosacea. Some mushroom varieties feature kojic acid, which slows melanin production at the skinâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s surface and acts as a natural skin lightener. Of course, adding mushrooms to your diet is simple (think pizza and stir-fry), but topical skin care will offer the greatest benefits and natural skin care brands like Origins and Dr. Weil have proven results.

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RED KALE Brassica napus

Great for: Dark Circles Also flush with vitamins A and C, it seems only appropriate that kaleâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s hidden superpower is, in fact, vitamin K. While the combination of vitamins plays a vital role in repairing tissues beneath the skin, vitamin K has been proven to reduce inflammation and bruising, which, when applied to under-eye areas, diminishes dark circles. The most direct method for utilizing kale is topically, and kale eye creams are popping up all over the market. But juicing the leafy green is also a great way to give your body a shot of Kâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s power. P R E - FA L L 2 0 1 4

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CHILI PEPPER Capsicum annuum

Great for: Hair Growth Peppers can be irritating to the skin, but the heat and the chemical capsaicin also increase blood circulation, which can aid in hair growth. Some take ground, dried pepper, mix it with olive oil and apply it to the scalp to help blood flow to the root follicles.

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INDIAN BITTER MELON Momordica charantia

Great for: Acne Bitter melon has been recommended by herbalists for the treatment of acne because it kills bacteria, has anti-inflammatory properties and has even been found to reduce swelling of the skin. If you can get past the bitter taste, drink 2 ounces of the juice daily. P R E - FA L L 2 0 1 4

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DRAGON FRUIT Hylocereus undatus

Great for: Anti-Aging An ample source of antioxidants, the vitamin-packed dragon fruit aids in fighting free radicals, which accelerate the aging process. The superfruitâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s speckled interior, rich in vitamin C and a load of Bs, also helps skin appear tighter and more resilient. A mask can be made from blending the fruit into a paste and mixing it with yogurt. Twenty minutes later, skin will look fresh.

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SUGAR CANE

Saccharum officinarum Great for: Exfoliation Sugar cane extract is a plentiful source of glycolic acid, which gently removes layers of dead skin cells on the surface. Cane juice can be applied to the skin like a face mask and/or scrub.

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YSL e SAINT LAURENT ‘CASSANDRE’ QUILTED LEATHER TASSEL BAG, $2,390

With the recent release of the film “Yves Saint Laurent,” it’s no wonder Saint Laurent Paris is on the forefront of everyone’s mind — which is right where it should be. One of the tastemaking titans, the brand has been shaping what we deem “fashionable” since 1961. Even with a change in creative director in 2012 and a total branding overhaul, the fashion house continues to produce timeless pieces. Take the new Cassandre Bag, the perfect combination of elegance and modern style, and just another reminder that no matter the season or trend, a classic is never in bad taste.

CALL AND MAKE AN APPOINTMENT

678.538.2401 5975 Roswell Road, Suite C-311 www.bYOUbeauty.com