Baltimore on Bourdain

Finally! The episode premieres Monday, July 27th at 10 p.m.

It feels like it's been forever since he was here, doesn't it?

So Much Awesome

Is Don Draper coming to Baltimore? Please?

Quotable Tuesday: Bourdain News

Two Bourdain blog quotes that definitely make me happy:

For an upcoming DC show, author George Pelecanos’s superb Washington based novels--and his work on the greatest dramatic series EVER on television, “The Wire” formed a kind of center of gravity.

One of my favorite things about No Reservations is the never-ending creativity that goes into the graphic elements of the show. That kind of variation in look takes time...and it adds a lot. Also:

What else is coming up? And where?

It’s (finally) back to Vietnam. The Philippines.. The Azores. Thailand. Provence. Sardinia. And a Detroit/Buffalo/Baltimore hybrid show which (I hope) will pay low rent homage to Curtis Hansen, Vincent Gallo and John Waters respectively (There will NOT be a Pink Flamingos finale, however). Ethiopia (we hope) Cuba. (We hope) . Back to Beirut (eventually). And beyond.

Baltimore! And John Waters' Baltimore (not David Simon's)! Ohhh that makes me happy.

Quotable Tuesday: Then and Now

Harvey Wallbanger
Then: Galliano, a vanilla-and-anise-flavored Italian liqueur, is the key ingredient in the Harvey Wallbanger, the era’s essential brunch cocktail.

Now: This fall, Galliano will reintroduce its classic formula. Mixologists are updating the cocktail, as in this Humpty Dumpty from Johnny Raglin at San Francisco’s Absinthe.

Have I been writing too much about the September Food & Wine? Maybe, but I can't help it. I actually meant to write about this yesterday, as Trendy Monday, but in my weekend blur I totally forgot about it.

But aren't the 70s back? I mean, if Mad Men has caused a renewed interest in the early 60s, then a combination of Bottle Shock and Swingtown (which Becky from Hatch has been all over, design-wise)and a whole bunch of people turning thirty (like me...two and a half years ago) has startled us into fond memories of the 70s.

I loved this "then and now" feature in F&W (including the Harvey Wallbanger quote from above - I picked that as a quote just because I remember, as a kid, thinking that "Harvey Wallbanger" was hilarious-sounding). Now, even though I was born in the 70s, I don't think I have an overly romantic view of the decade. I'm pretty sure I'm glad I'm living now, not a few years ago.

But everybody loves a little touch of disco, right? Right?

Artsy Wednesday: Grapes on Film

Bottle Shock, the cinema's (first) ode to the famous 1976 "Judgment of Paris", the blind tasting in which Napa wines cruelly and hilariously beat their French competitors, arrives in theaters this week. I wasn't even one when all the drama went down, and my parents always drank California wines, so it's hard for me to imagine a world where the New World really was thought of as lesser. So for me, this movie will be a history lesson and entertainment.

In the WaPo, reviewer Stephen Hunter likes the movie, with qualifications. This is the graph that got me:

What makes "Bottle Shock" so rewarding, however, is something subtler. Everyone in it simply loves wine, as drink, as science, as art, as culture, as civilized delight. I'm guessing that includes the director and the producers and probably the investors and the key grips and the guy who put out the doughnuts each morning. It's just so much fun to be in the presence of so many people obsessed with a gift from God such as the eternal tingle of pleasure that comes in those little green bottles!

Sounds like Sideways, plus Alan Rickman. Who makes everything better, and a little more evil, anyway.

Of course, we won't actually see it in the theater. But hopefully it'll be on HBO soon enough...

Trendy Monday: Mad Men

Retro can be trendy, right?

I came late to the Mad Men phenomenon, even though as a show, it's pretty much made for me. Cooper's cousin Sarah told me about it when she was watching the first season (when it was originally on) but I missed it that time around. Fortunately, I've been able to pick it up quickly over the past couple of weeks.

There are all kinds of things I love about this show. It's aesthetics are amazing - the interiors are understated and perfect (except for the zebra walls in the restaurant in the series premiere. They were not understated. But wow, were they perfect.) And the clothes absolutely kill me (that outfit on Cutthroat Bitch - it's amazing.)

And of course, there's the plot. I've read a lot of reviews that compare the show to The Sopranos, and I see it. It's that kind of television - the writing is good and sometimes a little knowing, but it never winks at the audience too broadly. The characters drive the story and they're interesting, tragic, conflicted and somehow sympathetic (not unlike Tony Soprano). Plus, there's the advertising.

Right out of college, I went to work for a small agency as an account exec. Four years later, I left there for a just slightly larger agency, where I worked in research (as it turned out, that second job was more like working for a research company with a little advertising on the side, but still I was working side by side with a bunch of ad people). During that time, I worked with several big NYC agencies - the same ones who are mentioned in passing on Mad Men.

Like a lot of young ad people, I read a million books about advertising written between 1920 and 1970. I have a decent amount of knowledge of the time represented in the show. The creator, Matthew Weiner, he gets things right. But what he gets most right - the thing that makes me really love this show - are the people.

Things, of course, aren't as explicitly sexist or smoky anymore (though they still are fairly boozy and, well, I'm not aware of any agencies with rules against inter-office dating). But the specific personalities of the people who get into advertising...they're the same. The conflicted creatives who love the money, and sort of thrive on manipulating the public, but kind of wish they could just be pure poets - when they're in that sort of company. The tension between creative and research. The bumbling and overly hungry account people who draw consistent ire from the creative director. The underlying belief (at least when you're with a pack of ad people), that agency people are so much smarter, more interesting and more fun than people in other professions. This is pretty of true. (To be fair, there are also some legitimately cool people in advertising. A few.)

The show just gets it so right. And it looks so good while doing it. It deserves its trillions of Emmy noms and all of its accolades.

And, um, how is this about food? Well, it is. Weiner's attention to detail is pretty phemonenal, and that is, I think, what elevates the show beyond the garden variety television drama. Last night, during the season two premiere, Don and Betty are at the Savoy on Valentine's Day - Don's surprised her with a room. They're kind of drunk (as usual) and they call room service. Initially, Don asks for a BLT and a bowl of vichyssoise. Then Betty says, "no, no - two shrimp cocktails." She changes her mind again, so Don hands her the phone and she orders a half an avocado filled with crabmeat and a petit filet, rare.

Perfect. That's just perfect, exactly right period food. Food that exactly underscores the mood of the scene.

Little things like that are what make this show almost too good.

It's a Game!

Look at the food, name the movie.

Hopefully you'll do better than my one correct answer.

Artsy Wednesday: Casino Royale

Can a James Bond film count as "art"? This morning, at least, one's going to.

I've made no secret of my childish escapist fantasies involving jewel theivery, art heists and other glamorous and almost certainly fictional lifestyles steeped in international intrigue. So it should be no surprise that I love James Bond. Cooper doesn't share my enthusiasm, but he was interested enough in what he'd heard about the new Casino Royale to record it a few days ago.

Last night, we settled in with some leftover broccoli and cheddar soup (crumbled with bacon on top and served with a salad of baby romaine, goat cheese, pistachios and a pomegranate vinaigrette, all of which was really nice if I do say so myself) and watched the blood bath/poker tournament/fashion show that is Casino Royale.

We both really liked it, too. It's long, but it moves quickly, probably thanks to the high body count and pretty scenery. By the end of it I was, once again, ready to chuck it all and join the CIA.

But...how is this about food? Well, there was caviar. And funnily enough, during the caviar scene, where James is having a late post-poker dinner with Vesper Lynd in a crazy roccoco restaurant somewhere in Montenegro, Cooper looked at him and said, with some disbelief in his voice, "But he's eating caviar?"

I was like, "um, of course he's eating caviar. Look at where he is. He's wearing a tux. What else do you eat then?"

The only way I can explain Cooper's reaction to the food - which was entirely appropriate - is that it was a result of the disconnect caused by the poker. Instead of baccarat, or a similarly fancy and elite game, the movie's center was a Texas Holdem tournament. With a $10 million buy-in, yes, but still - the game that everybody in America plays in their basements, or on their computers. I think maybe Cooper was lulled into a sense of familiarity with the character, thanks to the game, only to be jarred right out of it when Bond returned to his high falutin Bond ways, elegantly stuffing caviar into his mouth.

Poker disconnects aside, though, it was a totally enjoyable movie. And now I will spend the day pretending that I am much more international and dramatic than I ever will be.

TV This Week

Just a few quick thoughts after a marathon night of catching up on this week's TV.

Top Chef: I'm not really sorry to see little miss I'm-always-crying-anyway go home from Chicago. She's made a few comments that make it clear she's not really cut out to go too far in the competition. Like when she said she's not a competitor. And last week, when she was all "Chocolate and wasabi? Ewwww! If that's what they want, then I can't give them what they want." Sorry, Zoi. Apparently you were pretty perceptive.

30 Rock: There was pizza. And scotch. I'm just so happy to have the writers back.

The Office: While I was kind of bummed that the episode was set outside the office with a smaller group of characters (no Kevin?!?), the dinner party itself fully delivered the kind of tension that I love about the show. Also, awfully close to the Stuff White People Like dinner party? Yes, I think so.

Again, I'm just so happy to have the writers back.

Eco-fficially Mainstream: Emeril Goes Green

TMZ Doug also happens to be Discovery Channel Doug...he works there. (As an aside, I think it might be the best, nicest, most family-friendly company ever. But I digress.) So in addition to sending me regular gossip updates, he also keeps me up to speed on what's happening in the TV world.

This week, TV and food and Discovery all happen to coincide. Emeril just announced a show on Discovery's new network, Planet Green. The show, "Emeril Green", will be filmed at a Whole Foods in DC and will focus on fresh, seasonal foods.

My thoughts, in no particular order:

1. I'm not a gigantic Emeril fan - I'm not very "BAM"-y and I didn't watch his shows on the Food Network. But by all accounts, he's a decent guy, an extremely hard worker and an excellent cook. I'm happy to see him land on his feet after FN treated him so shabbily - not that I doubted for a minute that he would. I also kind of hope this show's a success, purely so FN feels a little pain.

2. Whole Foods in DC, huh? That's awfully close to where I live (within an hour, at least). And at least one of the DC locations is very close to where my sister lives. Again, not a huge fan of the Emeril character, but I still may try to see him live sometime, if that's an option.

3. Planet Green. OK, so I'm on record as being totally over the trendy "green" movement. That hasn't changed. But I guess maybe a dedicated cable channel is a sign that green has moved past trend? I suppose we'll see. Regardless, I'm sorry to see Discovery Home go away, if only because I've been holding out hope that Garage Takeover would shoot some new episodes and Cooper and I could have our garage turned into a kickass guest house or something. Guess I'll have to give up that dream.

Overall verdict? We'll see. The author of one of the articles Doug sent me, I think he was from Television Week, expressed some concern that Emeril would have to change up his cooking style to keep the show "green". That wouldn't have occurred to me, since I don't equate fresh, seasonal cooking with tasteless, boring, vegetables-only fare. But I'm sure that perception exists in some pockets of the country. If nothing else, Emeril's a great way to reach everybody and their sister to dispel the myth that seasonal=bland.

So...go Emeril. BAM!

Life-Changing

As a corollary to my last post about being geeky and still (mentally) carrying out the daydreams of my middle school years, I got totally sucked into this Pajiba post about albums and movies that changed people's perspectives about music and film.

In the main post, the blogger mentions Joshua Tree, which I certainly can respect. I was actually lucky enough to avoid any terribly embarrassing musical alleigances (despite NKOTB's rise to infamy coinciding with my thirteenth year), but I did get two tapes for Christmas in eighth grade that set the stage for my musical taste in the years to follow. They were U2's Rattle and Hum and Kick by INXS. I still think they're pretty amazing albums, even after listening to both of them every single day for years and years. I was absolutely obsessed with INXS forever (up to and including their terribly concluded TV show). And U2's catalog was pretty much the soundtrack of my high school and college years. In fact, at a wedding a few weeks ago, as the bride and groom danced to Love Rescue Me, from Rattle and Hum - maybe the best wedding song ever - my friend Mark said to me, "I sort of think everyone should dance to U2 at their wedding." I agreed, and we did (U2 and The Corr's cover of Ryan Adams' "Where the Stars Go Blue").

I don't think there's one single movie that forever changed my take on movies, but I did agree with some of the commenters' descriptions of watching Pump Up the Volume. I didn't actually feel like an outsider in school, but I do still remember how much energy I had after watching that movie. And listening to the soundtrack - another eighth or ninth grade purchase.

And here's how this is about food: I think that food is for me what music or movies are for some other people. Meals, food literature, food TV, even offhand mentions of food in entertainment - these are the cultural markers I use to shape my worldview. Not exclusively, of course - I mean, I'm married to someone who speaks in movie quotes approximately 50% of the time - but to a large extent. I remember vacations because of what I ate. Holidays are about what's on the table or in my glass. Food rituals are my celebrations and mark my milestones.

But when did this happen? When I first started Mango & Ginger, I wrote a series of posts about my awakening to the world of food. The first one was called Learning to Eat. I just reread it, wondering if back in 2005, I knew when or what it was that got me interested in food. In the post, I vague credit an omelet I had on my first trip to Paris as the trigger. I do remember that omelet - it was delicious. But was that really it? Because I'd had a number of really good and memorable meals prior to that point - like the Chateaubriand at The Williamsburg Inn the night I graduated from college. Or the boeuf Bourgignon I used to order at Cafe Bretton all the time in high school. Even the prime rib I got almost weekly, from the time I was about six, on, at Busch's Chesapeake Inn (RIP). Or maybe it was something I had at home - we definitely didn't eat badly.

I wish I could point to a specific turning point. I think if I could, I'd better understand what, exactly, I expect from myself out of my interest in food. How to achieve my foodie goals.

And that concludes another really, really geeky post.

More on Kitchen Nightmares

Best Week Ever is all over the food these days, huh?

This made me laugh. Funny because it's true and all that. Really, really true. But I still like the show.

Oh - but I do wish BWE had mentioned how Chef Ramsay's chef jacket is, like, Express-for-Men-caliber fitted. It kills me.

All Over the Place

I'm getting backed up with posting again. I have my running list of things I want to post about, and I put them off and put them off. Then I run across an article about Seurat or DaVinci or whatever and I write about that...instead of hitting my list.

And then I write a post like this one - covering a couple of bases:

• You might notice some updates to the sidebar, and there are a few more on the way. I've joined an advertising network for food blogs. It's attached to a social networking site called Foodbuzz. It's really very cool - if you're at all into food, or looking for recipes or for restaurant reviews or just something new to read, you should check it out.
• This is kind of cool: in the same issue of Style magazine that profiled the Baltimore food blogs, our architect's kitchen was featured - hers is the fifth picture. In related news, our addition is flying along - the roof and siding are finished, deck is in the works, they'll be coming through the wall into the kitchen and dining room just after Thanksgiving and our cabinets will be delivered December 17th. There's a lot of excitement here. And soon to be a lot of dust.
• I think it's fun for my friends that I have a blog. Not so much so they can read it, but so when they come across something interesting, they don't have to write about it themselves, but they have somebody to share it with. My friend Sarah called me last week just to say: "I think pears are so underrated. I didn't think I liked them much, but I just ate one and it was so good. The texture was perfect." Personally, I agree, but I always knew I liked them. Sometime within the past year, I made a cool salad of pear, apple and Manchego cheese, all cut into evenly sized matchsticks. It was inspired by an apple and Manchego salad I had at Pazo almost two years ago. It's so unexpected because every piece looks pretty much the same - white, hard and stick-ish - but they all taste and feel different. You never know what you're going to get. I thought it was very cool. Almost too cutesy and clever, but Cooper liked how it tasted, too.
• Right now I am watching Gordon Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares. Seriously, who are these idiot chefs? That's all I ever think when I watch this show.

And that is all.

Conversational Marinade

Not surprisingly, I love a good food analogy. I also can't resist the sort of navel-gazey writing that examines the way we communicate and how it's evolved over time.

So naturally, I'm all over this post from Scott Adams. After watching a classic Marx brothers movie and realizing that it's not very funny by today's standards, Adams did some thinking about how our concept of what's funny has evolved over the past sixtyish years. He arrives at the idea that today, humor isn't often the meal in and of itself - it's the seasoning. Our most successful TV shows, for instance, are dramas or reality or whatever - infused with humor. But few outright comedies are all that successful.

Interesting thought, right?

Marketing Makes Me Hungry

Despite my years of employment in advertising and market research, apparently I am outrageously susceptible to marketing ploys.

This morning, Trader Joe's tricked me into buying a head of very special romaine lettuce that I do not, in any way need. I already have three heads of romaine PLUS a bag of baby romaine in my refrigerator. And yes, lettuce is a highly perishable good.

How did they trick me? Simple. By naming it "Rockstar Lettuce." So cute I couldn't help myself. Unfortunately, I'm not kidding.

Then, at lunchtime today, I wanted to kiss whichever genius came up with the Yoplait Kids/Dora cross promotion. Yes, I did have to take a break from feeding Dixon every ten seconds so he could make out with the yoga container, but Dora's smiling face and oddly compelling eyes did convince him to eat something other than guacamole and string cheese. So mommy is happy.

And now I'm convinced I'm on the verge of a gigantic Indian food kick, all thanks to Wes Anderson. I probably won't even see The Darjeeling Limited until it's on HBO, but my embarrassing addiction to Anderson's quirky and preening aesthetic all but guarantees an immediate uptick in curries chez Pollard.

I'm such a sucker.

Eras End, Food Remains

It's been a big week so far. Apparently, every single American with a blog watches The Sopranos. And every single one of them also has an opinion on the finale. As for me, I am in the minority that liked the ending immediately. I thought it was perfectly appropriate and fascinating. I'm also in the "Tony didn't die, but it doesn't matter because he lives in a hell of his own creation" camp. But that is not what this post is about.

For the past month and a half, as I've watched Tony Soprano and Family/family complete their journey (ha - Journey - get it? Don't Stop?), I've also been preparing for the end of another saga: I've been rereading the Harry Potter books. I started my reread about the time that this final season of the Sopranos debuted and, as a result, I've been uber-conscious of the similarities between the two entities ever since.

[As an aside, I'm a little sad. Tony and Harry have helped define the first part of my adult life - they both came on the scene just after I graduated from college and have been with me as I started my career, met Cooper and got married, started my own company, had a baby. Their departure is bittersweet for me, and not just because I'll miss the stories. At some point, I'm going to have to accept that I'm a grownup.]

When I started really thinking about this post three weeks ago, there was only one article out there comparing the two. In the past few days, however, a bunch have sprung up - clearly I'm not the only one obsessing about this stuff. This Newsweek article sums up a lot of the similarities that I see between the books and the show, though I'd add a few things:

- Interestingly, since both the books and the show are set in a world that is blatantly outside the mainstream, they are both ultimately about how the struggle of good vs. evil plays out in real life. The eternal struggle is set within less grandly dramatic, though equally interesting, story arcs. Tony Soprano's famous draw is that, though he is a mildly conflicted gangster, viewers can connect with him through his role as father, husband and son. His is the great story of the American family. From the first Harry Potter book, we have known that Harry is not all good and pure on the inside - he fears his own internal Slytherin tendencies. Despite how removed HP readers are from Harry's magical world, we identify with the stops and starts of his adolescence, with his self-doubt and his growth. His is a coming of age tale.

- Both stories make me conscious of just how important place can be. Can you imagine Harry without Hogwarts? Or Tony without New Jersey? There's something so perfect and integral about the settings of each story that makes the location almost an additional character.

- Since Sunday night, the Internet has been blazing with messages to David Chase. Some great, many not so great - but a lot of them. Similarly, HP devotees hang on every public word uttered by JK Rowling. Through these series, the creators have revealed things about themselves - about what's important to them and the decisions they choose to make - and their readers have responded. I can't even count how many times I've read "that ending was so David Chase" or "JK Rowling won't kill Harry - it wouldn't be like her."

Now that I've gotten all that rambling off my chest, let me bring this back home to food. Some time ago, I wrote about the role of food in Harry Potter. Upon rereading, I think my analysis holds up. JK Rowling's food is functional as a magical element, a forger of relationships and scene-setter, and as a joke.

The role of food in The Sopranos is so enormous that it's overwhelming. It would take someone with way more patience and time than I have to do a comprehensive analysis of food in the whole series. It's amazing - food is such a core part of being an Italian-American that it couldn't be any other way. But its not all trays of ziti after the funerals - Chase uses food as more than just a scene-setter or a way to flesh out a character. Food is so inherently a part of the characters' lives that it is regularly connected to their unhappiness or frustration. The symbolic nature of food in the series is hotly debated - onion rings as communion wafers, Lincoln Log sandwiches as, well, the obvious. After the episode when AJ almost drowned, a commenter named Erik on Matt Zoller Seitz's amazing blog said:

Note that Tony was eating right as he saw AJ drowning. Also, AJ actually addresses food (and specifically meat) when they are at the dinner table - asking Tony et al. how they can eat food of such disturbing origins. Yet - also note that AJ told Meadow that one of the main reasons he couldn't move out was his mother's cooking. He, like Carmella (and to some extent Tony), is profoundly disturbed by how the proverbial food gets put on the table, yet they are unwilling to go hungry...Remember that Tony and Melfi finally begin to think that the root cause of Tony's panic attacks was the association with food, and the violence he witnessed as a child (his dad maiming the butcher.)

But even more important than the role of food as a root cause or symbol, I think, is the role played by the ritual of the family dinner. Many seasons, including this last, have ended with a family dinner of some sort. The loss of sit-down family dinners in our busy American lives is often lamented. But the Sopranos manage to get to the table. And yet they are, I'd hope, more inherently screwed up than most American families. So will sitting down for onion rings and ice cream help us? If not, what can?

Entertainment like The Sopranos or Harry Potter has amazing power. It infiltrates our culture (how many other books are well-known enough to get a shout-out on The Office?) and it infects our lives. Both the shows and the books will be on my mind for years to come - while I'm on the sofa, at the stove, or - and most likely - at the table.

UPDATE: This kills me - I love it.