Today’s post comes on the heels of two commingled happenings. First, My Head of Culinary is trouncing about in Parma checking out brown cows and pig legs. Second, The Food Book Fair kicks off it’s 2017 edition. So, a book on Italian Street Food is more than appropriate. If any of you have spent any time in Italy, as Paola, the author of this guide to goodness, has, you know getting a bad meal is tough anywhere on the boot. But, the culinary road less traveled lies in the nooks and crannies that are street food. A rice ball, a porchetta sandwich or a panini from a stand or off the beaten path vendor with a tiny hole in the wall (literally sometimes) shop are the true diamonds in the rough of this food gem country. Paola Bacchia was born Australian but has always looked to Italy as her Italian migrant parents made it impossible not to. Her book chronicles the recipes of these undiscovered street classics in a way that only an enamored 1st generation non-Italain can. If this book redlines your drool factor, Paola hosts a cooking school in Melbourne, Australia and annual workshops at the Anna Tasca Lanza Cooking School in Sicily where you can taste some of the beauty this book reveals.
More Culture Stuff
We’re back from our Nordic adventure. If you’ve been following the IG story you know. Now that we’re settled back in BK, expect an onslaught of Nordic and North Euro finds and events on the blog this week. Kicking it off is this bible of new, and old, Nordic cuisine from the man who made it an unignorable culinary trend. Of course, Magnus Nilsson doesn’t call it trendy. He just calls it his childhood food. Part of his notoriety and the cuisines attention stems from his restaurant Fäviken in Sweden. Currently ranked the 25th best restaurant in the world and with two Michelin stars, it’s almost impossible to get a seat. Incidentally, it’s almost impossible to get to as it’s a 7-hour drive from Stockholm. All part of his plan and experience. In comes The Nordic Cookbook. Broken up into sections, you can find classic Nordic favorites and New Nordic expressions woven together as you flip the pages. Ingredient lists read as you might expect. Lingonberry, juniper, pine, pig trotter, fiskbullar and blodpalt, to name a few. Winter is coming in quick. Perfect time to grab this book and make some hearty, comfort cozy for you girlfriend.
If there’s one book you load up on your kindle before landing in the Crescent City make it Eat Dat. It’s been a long, long time since we saw a food guide as comprehensive as this. It makes sure all the famous restaurants are included while rounding out the 250 spot hit list with places locals might haven’t even heard of. Things are changing quickly in New Orleans. Hopefully Michael Murphy will keep the book as updated as possible. For now, be sure to pick up a copy when you’re prepping your JazzFest bag.
You might know chef Ripert from his acclaimed and record holding, New York City restaurant Le Bernardin. You might know him from cameos on No Reservations with his pal Tony Bourdain. You might know his as the charming french guy with the piercing blue eyes who picked up your wind blown umbrella while struggling down 51st Street. I know him as the guy who loved my mom’s chicken cacciatore recipe after I told him the contents of the mini sandwich I served him during a Michelin awards ceremony. And, you may not know him at all. In either case, his memoir, 32 Yolks, will fix that. Starting at the beginning and ending sometime around now, follow Chef Ripert’s ups and downs in and out of the kitchen. Truly avec Eric.
Here at FT HQ, we’re used to chicken of the fried, roasted, baked, and, well, eaten variety. But that doesn’t mean we can’t talk up the alternatives, like David Ezra Stein’s “Interrupting Chicken”, an illustrated story-within-a-story book geared towards the sleepy little chicks in your life. Let’s hope this funny, not-so-cautionary tale about a young chicken named “Chicken” who can’t stop interrupting his bedtime story succeeds in easing your clutch into quick and uninterrupted slumber instead of, well, the opposite. If, on the other hand, you’re reading this to your brood in Bushwick after a drink and draw, all bets on sleep are off. You know as well as we do you’ll finish the story at Roberta’s.