The timing was perfect. I just spent a week at a yoga retreat and it was held in a Shaker community. We stayed in simple accommodations and the menu was vegetarian. I have never tasted such wonderful beans, tofu, vegetables and the occasional sweet. Was it the fresh air and lovely company? Everything was flavorful and had us all asking what seasoning was used.
The simple joy of savoring food that someone else has prepared with thought ♥️♥️♥️♥️
Yes, prepared with thought - or the fancy word "intention". It sounds so simple and obvious, and then you start to think - wow, how much food do I eat that was not made with intention?
Your observation about NYC is so spot on. “Fast Food” in the city meant something so different to us there. An amazing bagel or kinish, a skewer of fabulous meat, it was something you got from the vendor quickly but someone had made with wonderful ingredients. Flavor wasn’t just salt and sugar.
I’ve had to eat gluten free for nearly 20 years but I can still remember savoring a warm bagel or an amazing baguette. How many textures and sensations could one baked good hold😂😂😂😂
There were times about 15 years ago when I had to come back to NYC for a Russian visa renewal every 3 months, and I had no money, was living month to month, job to job. I counted every penny on those trips and the $10 cuban sandwich, the Szechuan dumplings for $4, they made a huge impact on me. I always knew they were there and delicious, but they took on a whole new meaning during those brief glimpses of the NYC I left.
For me it was pierogis at Odessa, borscht at Kiev, and a slice At Ray’s. 1985 East Village Making $250 a week and paying $250 a month to sleep on a futon in the living room of a friend on Avenue A.
I lost a lot of weight when I moved to New York and gained a whole new respect for international cuisine ❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹
Maybe an egg cream from Gem Spa or Rays Candy store? (I was a Ray's guy).
Odessa, I wrote some of my first novel at the back counter. I loved the noise and the chaos as much as the kielbasa platter. Kiev, another haven. We ate dessert there after playing a gig sometimes, a slice of apple pie for what, like $2?
Bittersweet, I want to go back, but it’s no longer there, And if it is, it’s not quite the same, better to stay put, Savoring our here and now, going back to memories and savoring the sweetness Of the time that once was.
In Atlanta there's an area called Chamblee-Tucker where large immigrant populations have settled. Mexican, Salvadorian, Korean, Vietnamese, Ethiopian & etc. Each group seems to have a restaurant as the centerpiece of their enclave. These restaurants are very authentic, some don't even have English menus. A certain amount of prep is in order before you go to one of these places or you might end up ordering a shoe covered with cheese. But man, there are great things to be had in this part of the city.
Now living in Chattanooga I don't have ready access to that kind of variety. Atlanta ain't New York, but Chattanooga ain't Atlanta, so I have an idea of what you're talking about. But over the last decade some authentic ethnic restaurants have popped up, mostly latino places. There's a Salvadorian tapas joint I particularly like. With all this anti-immigrant bullshit going on here in the States I'm worried about the future of these places. It appears millions of Americans want vanilla, chocolate and strawberry and don't think they'll miss the other 28 flavors. I'll damn sure miss them if they disappear. Sigh.
Yes, America - home of the mundane middle, whenever possible. There are hold-outs, fortunately.
The authenticity approach does not yield those results here. Just because you are from Mexico or Turkey or Spain, it does not ensure you are a great cook of the dishes you grew up on. We have a massive imposter problem here - amplified by a consumer base that has never tasted the "real" version of the dish, so they have no reference. Meanwhile, they get bombarded with ads for "AUTHENTIC" dishes from (x) place cooked by (x) person and they pay hand over fist for tv-dinner, microwave vision of that dish. I find it completely maddening, and it isolates me. I am stealing the dream and turning it into a sad story when I chime in. And on top of that, these places open and close in 3-6 months and disappear.
I remember a place in the East Village in the 90s called "Miracle Grill" on 1st avenue. The kitchen was tiny and they cooked southwestern food, not Mexican or tex Mex, but with some crossover ingredients. The chef was some Irish guy from Boston, and I could care less who he was or where he was from, because the food was drop dead delicious, and I had been to Arizona, I knew what dishes he was cooking and what it should taste like. His name? Bobby Flay. Yeah..... authenticity is one road, but not the only road. Sometimes your fascinations, your curiosity and hard work are what puts great food on a plate.
I consider myself an orphan chef, with no family recipes I inherited. I never knew my grandparents, and I am self-taught. That means there is no way to explain my cooking in simple terms.
You have me salivating 🤤
The timing was perfect. I just spent a week at a yoga retreat and it was held in a Shaker community. We stayed in simple accommodations and the menu was vegetarian. I have never tasted such wonderful beans, tofu, vegetables and the occasional sweet. Was it the fresh air and lovely company? Everything was flavorful and had us all asking what seasoning was used.
The simple joy of savoring food that someone else has prepared with thought ♥️♥️♥️♥️
Oh that sounds lovely.
Yes, prepared with thought - or the fancy word "intention". It sounds so simple and obvious, and then you start to think - wow, how much food do I eat that was not made with intention?
Your observation about NYC is so spot on. “Fast Food” in the city meant something so different to us there. An amazing bagel or kinish, a skewer of fabulous meat, it was something you got from the vendor quickly but someone had made with wonderful ingredients. Flavor wasn’t just salt and sugar.
I’ve had to eat gluten free for nearly 20 years but I can still remember savoring a warm bagel or an amazing baguette. How many textures and sensations could one baked good hold😂😂😂😂
There were times about 15 years ago when I had to come back to NYC for a Russian visa renewal every 3 months, and I had no money, was living month to month, job to job. I counted every penny on those trips and the $10 cuban sandwich, the Szechuan dumplings for $4, they made a huge impact on me. I always knew they were there and delicious, but they took on a whole new meaning during those brief glimpses of the NYC I left.
For me it was pierogis at Odessa, borscht at Kiev, and a slice At Ray’s. 1985 East Village Making $250 a week and paying $250 a month to sleep on a futon in the living room of a friend on Avenue A.
I lost a lot of weight when I moved to New York and gained a whole new respect for international cuisine ❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹
Maybe an egg cream from Gem Spa or Rays Candy store? (I was a Ray's guy).
Odessa, I wrote some of my first novel at the back counter. I loved the noise and the chaos as much as the kielbasa platter. Kiev, another haven. We ate dessert there after playing a gig sometimes, a slice of apple pie for what, like $2?
Bittersweet, I want to go back, but it’s no longer there, And if it is, it’s not quite the same, better to stay put, Savoring our here and now, going back to memories and savoring the sweetness Of the time that once was.
In Atlanta there's an area called Chamblee-Tucker where large immigrant populations have settled. Mexican, Salvadorian, Korean, Vietnamese, Ethiopian & etc. Each group seems to have a restaurant as the centerpiece of their enclave. These restaurants are very authentic, some don't even have English menus. A certain amount of prep is in order before you go to one of these places or you might end up ordering a shoe covered with cheese. But man, there are great things to be had in this part of the city.
Now living in Chattanooga I don't have ready access to that kind of variety. Atlanta ain't New York, but Chattanooga ain't Atlanta, so I have an idea of what you're talking about. But over the last decade some authentic ethnic restaurants have popped up, mostly latino places. There's a Salvadorian tapas joint I particularly like. With all this anti-immigrant bullshit going on here in the States I'm worried about the future of these places. It appears millions of Americans want vanilla, chocolate and strawberry and don't think they'll miss the other 28 flavors. I'll damn sure miss them if they disappear. Sigh.
Yes, America - home of the mundane middle, whenever possible. There are hold-outs, fortunately.
The authenticity approach does not yield those results here. Just because you are from Mexico or Turkey or Spain, it does not ensure you are a great cook of the dishes you grew up on. We have a massive imposter problem here - amplified by a consumer base that has never tasted the "real" version of the dish, so they have no reference. Meanwhile, they get bombarded with ads for "AUTHENTIC" dishes from (x) place cooked by (x) person and they pay hand over fist for tv-dinner, microwave vision of that dish. I find it completely maddening, and it isolates me. I am stealing the dream and turning it into a sad story when I chime in. And on top of that, these places open and close in 3-6 months and disappear.
I remember a place in the East Village in the 90s called "Miracle Grill" on 1st avenue. The kitchen was tiny and they cooked southwestern food, not Mexican or tex Mex, but with some crossover ingredients. The chef was some Irish guy from Boston, and I could care less who he was or where he was from, because the food was drop dead delicious, and I had been to Arizona, I knew what dishes he was cooking and what it should taste like. His name? Bobby Flay. Yeah..... authenticity is one road, but not the only road. Sometimes your fascinations, your curiosity and hard work are what puts great food on a plate.
I consider myself an orphan chef, with no family recipes I inherited. I never knew my grandparents, and I am self-taught. That means there is no way to explain my cooking in simple terms.
Well, family recipes have to start somewhere, might as well start with you my friend.
Right?!?!?!
Of course my kids know my recipes and make them much better in their opinion. :)
Lovely!
Scandis and Nordics will probably end up saving the world someday. ; )
Level heads and good eats, that's the way to surive the apocalypse.