Category

|
[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…

|
It’s funny: the smarter I get about the food, the harder it is to figure out what to eat. Eating didn’t used to be this hard. If I wanted a chicken club sandwich for lunch, I’d eat a chicken club sandwich for lunch. I didn’t worry about whether the bacon came from an industrial pig,…

|
If there’s one question I get asked all the time, whether in my blog comments or over Twitter, it’s: “How do you not weigh 500 pounds?” It’s usually in response to a post about a very decadent meal or a recipe that involves several sticks of butter (like Craig’s birthday cake). The question implies that…

|
On Saturday, this blog turned eight. If you had a baby on the day that I started my blog that baby is now eight; in other words, your baby is not a baby. And neither is this blog. At the beginning, the blog seemed like a means to an end–a way to get noticed in…

|
No one looks at a coil of barbed wire and thinks, “I would like to eat that.” Yet there are eaters among us who see a plate of frisée and think that very thought. Psychologists have a word for these people: masochists. How else to explain the inexplicable desire to consume razor-like stalks of pale…

|
[Photo credit, Dallas Observer] By this point it’s old news that Sam Sifton, restaurant critic for The New York Times, has stepped down from his job after only two years. It’s a pretty short run for a restaurant critic, and his reasons for stepping down have been explained matter-of-factly: he’s going to become the Times’s…

|
There’s a lot of talk these days about the future of cookbooks. On Eater National, yesterday, Paula Forbes made the case that “the end of print is in clear sight” and that the only cookbooks that might survive are the “art object” cookbooks, those “huge, photo-heavy tomes.” Maybe I’m naïve, but I find this hard…

|
A few weeks ago, I ate a burger at a place called the Roebling Tea Room which my friend Rachel Wharton had written about in Edible Brooklyn. She wrote that Roebling was a chef hang-out with the kind of food that chefs like to eat. And sure enough, when the burger arrived, it was a…