28 May 2013 (Mostly Food)

by jkatejohnston

Dear Max,

Reading Anna’s piece about the strawberries with balsamic reduction and homemade coconut ice cream made me think that most writing about food doesn’t have enough anger, scorn, greed, pettiness or vanity. Instead it has this finer-things-in-life tone that’s just unbearable. It describes a world without appetites or obsessions. Fucking foodie fucks. I hasten to add that Anna’s piece doesn’t have all those qualities at once. Just most of them. See http://shesgonechilaquiles.blogspot.com/2013/05/2-cans.html

Of course I have no problem with straight reporting. So I will just mention that yesterday we had our first good corn of the year. Which now sounds really boring.

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As we were walking back from the park yesterday Enzo said, “I still have a few tricks up my sleeves.” Then he looked down at his bare brown scratched-up dirty arms and added, “Which I don’t even have any sleeves.”

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Yesterday I got one of those nifty Zyliss rotary-style parmesan graters at Thrift Town for $2.99. Too bad that just that morning I’d bought a tub of already-grated parm, which Marcella Hazan says you should never do, but I’m a lazy slut. (Food writers never mention the advantages of lowering your standards. But I love Marcella.) So Enzo and I grated unsweetened baking chocolate and sugar into this fine grainy dark chocolate powder. Ate a bunch of that then put the rest into warm milk and made the best hot chocolate ever. It was raining a little, just enough to make the sidewalk smell like it. Enough for hot chocolate.

 

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