[Image from Roboppy’s Flickr via Slashfood.]
In this week’s New York Magazine, there’s a story about a 27-year old who spends most of her life and her money eating out at trendy, of-the-moment restaurants. To be honest, I didn’t read the article—that’s the side of the food world I have zero interest in (fad-following)—but one line (highlighted by Eater) stood out for me to the point that I’ve been thinking a lot about it: “The food blogs are still big, but they really had their moment in the early aughts.”
At first, I rolled my eyes. But then I scratched my head. I mean, I don’t agree with the time frame—if food blogs had their moment, they were in the late aughts—but the larger question that this glib statement poses is a good one: are food blogs over?
After attending last night’s Taste of New York event, I can say, with great certainty, that this year is the year of the octopus. I lost my little pamphlet that tells you who was serving what, but off the top off my head I can tell you that Craft, Dell’anima, and Insieme were all serving the eight-legged beast and each version had something to recommend it.
You know how for the past two years I’ve attended that New York Magazine Taste of New York event and you got really jealous when you read the posts here and here? Well there are still tickets to TONIGHT’s event so click here, sign up, and go. If you’re there, look for me and say hello–I’ll be wherever the dessert is. I love dessert.
Dear Craig Claiborne,
I am greatly enjoying your somewhat notorious autobiography, “A Feast Made For Laughter.” Sure, it’s a little creepy when you talk about touching your dad’s erect penis while sharing a bed, but I appreciate your zeal for people and food. Case in point: early in the book, you tell a story involving Parker House rolls. Your brother passes you a basket of them and instead of taking the basket from him, you start to reach your hand in and take one out and your brother, appalled, drops the basket to the floor saying: “When anyone passes you a basket of bread, you take the basket. Or at least you touch it as a gesture of thoughtfulness.”
This passage amused me because it’s a good story, but mostly it made me hungry–hungry for Parker House rolls. I cracked open “The Joy of Cooking” and found the most basic recipe in the world; a recipe that required only yeast, butter, flour, sugar, salt and milk. I’d write out the recipe here, but it’s so standard any internet search will suffice. And those rolls–which took a few hours to rise–were quaint and comforting, the kind of food you want an American food icon to eat. Thank you for inspiring me to make them; I look forward to the rest of your book.