Call it denial having taken this long to write about it. Call it anything you want but there will be NO MORE Gourmet magazine in anyones mailbox ever again and that will take a lot of getting use to. It was always the first food magazine that I opened each month, the others could wait. Of course it's shocking and sad, the end of an era and no more Ruth piloting the ship. And I will most miss her.
I have to admit that I was less then happy when she became the "new" editor, the magazine changed so dramatically or was it overdue to become more modern? Less elitist, less snobby, more real, perhaps? Well, Ruth you sure changed it! Last year I had the pleasure of spending a few hours with Ms. Reichl at a literary writers weekend in Camden, Maine. As part of the weekend event the hosts invited us to a Saturday night "church supper" Maine style. In the big, white Congregational church nestled among the oldest grove of Maple trees in full color was the venue for the event. Various restaurants in the area were picked to make each different course for the dinner.
A few years ago I became a head chef flunky at the Culinary Stage of
the Los Angeles Times Book Festival. It was a way to keep up my prep
cook skills, meet some heroes (Suzanne Goin, Lidia Bastianich, Martin
Yan, Mary Sue Milliken & Susan Feniger, Govind Armstrong, Nancy
Silverton) and TV star chefs (Giada DeLaurentiis, Tyler Florence, Dave
Lieberman, Cat Cora). The stage’s consulting producer, Michael
Weisberg, took a leap of faith and allowed me to bring along Patricia
Zarate and a few of her girls from the Homegirl Cafe to assist the
celebrity chefs. This will be their third year at the Culinary Stage.
My twin brother’s name is Paul Newman and when we were growing up in
Beverly Hills in the 1960s, because Paul had his own phone line, and
because he was listed in the phone directory, we often got calls from
fans thinking it was the home of the movie star. When you’re a
teenager and you’re desperate for something to feel superior about,
this fit the bill quite nicely.
Oh those personal chefs of Palm Beach – those white jacketed, croc-shod, Bluetooth-eared, clubby bunch that troll the aisles of our local supermarket! Is it simple envy that knowing they wield a knife better than I that has made me feel less than human as I wheel my cart past them? Probably. But, today there was victory! Today, There was Deliverance! Equality – nay – Superiority! (They don’t have to know I usually cut my finger when I cut a bagel – and you don’t have to tell them!)
Shortbread is simply the most delicious biscuit ever conceived by mankind (though I suspect
womankind had more to do with it!).