A Literary Culinary Journal
by Simón de Swaan
A nickel will get you on the subway, but garlic will get you a seat.—old New York proverb
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Kids in the Kitchen: Teach Your Kids How to Shop for Foodby Jonell Galloway
Going to the farmers market can be made into an exciting, weekly event. Summer offers lots of fresh fruit that they can choose to make their smoothies, to put on their breakfast cereal, or to make fruit salads. Vegetables are tastier in summer than in winter, and there is a larger selection, so it is also an occasion to encourage them to try more vegetables. If they choose fruit and vegetables themselves, they will feel more part of the process, and are more likely to eat them.
Start by discussing the fruits and vegetables that are in season with your child before you go to the market. For the Lake Geneva region, you can look at our MarketDay photo albums, published regularly, to get an idea of what you can expect to find. If you are planning on making a meal together, choose the dishes and ingredients together when making your shopping list. If it’s fruit for snacks or smoothies, let them decide which ones they prefer.
It is a good idea to put up a food pyramid and a seasonal products chart somewhere in the kitchen, so you can refer to it when planning meals with the children, and also to explain why they must eat food such as green vegetables or fruit, for example. More suggestions are available in our 9 May 2009 post A fun, interactive guide for teaching your children good eating habits.
Explain the importance of buying local when possible. It is not only cheaper, but fresher, and therefore has more vitamins.
Once you’re at the market, let them start looking for the items on the list. When they’ve spotted them, explain how to choose, by color, smell, touch, ripeness, etc., but make sure to ask the vendor if it’s all right to touch first.
This is also a time to let them look for products that have a local origin written on the tags, and to explain that if the products are local, they are also more ecological, because the cost of transport is less, and that in turn makes them more economical. It takes a lot of fuel to bring tomatoes from Holland in July and August when we have them right here in the region. Reduced transport also cuts pollution.
Buying from local producers allows children to have direct contact with the farmers, and to ask questions if they like. Farmers love to talk about what they have lovingly produced, and this in turn encourages children to appreciate farmers’ hard work and the satisfaction that it brings them. There is a reciprocity: the farmer gives you something he or she has produced with care, and you in turn get to satisfy your tastebuds.
Make kids part of the entire process by letting them help prepare the meal or dish afterwards. Once again, they are more likely to eat it if they help prepare it.
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Jane and Antonio’s recipe is based on foraging and what they imagine post-neolithic cooking to be, foraging and all, but with a modern twist, i.e. the olive oil.
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Knepfle is originally from Alsace in France, but it is also eaten in Switzerland, in particular in the Jura region, which borders Alsace.
You can buy them at the supermarket, but they’re much better when you make them at home.
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I was not born with a hunger to be free. I was born free. Free in every way that I could know. Free to run in the fields near my mother’s hut, free to swim in the clear stream that ran through my village, free to roast mealies [corn] under the stars … It was only when I learnt that my boyhood freedom was an illusion … that I began to hunger for it.–Nelson Mandela
Photo courtesy of The Guardian
“Only the truly food obsessed would read such a statement and consider the stomach from whence it came, but I did and the result is a gastro-political biography entitled Hunger for Freedom, the story of food in the life of Nelson Mandela,” he told Ana Trapedo of The Guardian.
When in prison, he wrote to former wife Winnie: “How I long for amasi (traditional South African fermented milk), thick and sour! You know darling there is one respect in which I dwarf all my contemporaries or at least about which I can confidently claim to be second to none – healthy appetite,” he told Trapedo.
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by Renu Chhabra
Ponder well on this point: the pleasant hours of our life are all connected by a more or less tangible link, with some memory of the table.–Charles Pierre Monselet
Summer afternoon and a glass of cold milkshake! Mango milkshake. Something I am always ready for. Why wouldn’t I be? It brings back memories of my childhood — fun and comforting memories.
Growing up in India, summer meant boxes of mangoes showing up in our house throughout the season. Not just one or two varieties, but several of them. Different sizes, tastes, and textures to relish, and we all had our own favorite.
It was the summer fruit to indulge in — messy but syrupy sweet and wonderfully juicy. Most of all, it was fun to sit around the table; and enjoy this tropical fruit and celebrate the season.
And with such abundance pouring in, we were treated with mango ice cream, mango custard, mango salad, and not to forget mango milkshake, the simplest of all for warm summer days. Simple because it can be put together in no time.
Its creamy texture and sunshine yellow color always lifts my spirits. Simply said, it’s a happy reminder of my childhood. Little moments that enable us to travel miles away!
I have accented the mango shake with cardamom in this recipe. Cardamom, as I call the soul of Indian desserts. Just a hint of it makes the recipe sing fragrant notes. A little goes a long way; otherwise it gets bitter. Like we say, “Too much of a good thing can be bad.”
I used honey as sweetener, but you can use sugar or agave to taste. The amount will also depend on the sweetness of the mango.
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by Laura Kelley
I have long been fascinated by concepts of “I and other”, or the many ways we separate what is familiar (self) from what is not familiar (non-self). By defining what is not self, we are in fact defining self. One can hear small children do this when misclassified by gender; most adamantly declare that they are not members of the opposite sex. “I and other” are also evident in beautiful symbolic ways when considering the movement of ideas and beliefs through societies. The newly introduced idea is at first foreign, complete with unfamiliar trappings. As the idea flows through society and is adopted, the foreign elements are shed and replaced by the familiar.
Depictions of Buddha: Caucasian and Asian
One place to see this is operation is at the Boston Museum of Fine Arts, which houses an expansive collection of Asian art. As Buddhism moves out of India and across Asia, first to the west and then the east, early iconography clearly depicts Buddha as Caucasian (Gandahara style), even when the work is from the Himalayas, Burma or Western China. As time passes, and Buddhist ideas are adopted across the east, however, religious iconography begins to depict a wide variety of races and ethnicities. Noses become smaller, epicanthic lids are added as the face changes from Caucasian to Asian. Expressions usually remain contemplative and serene, but the varying shapes of the faces are evidence of the triumph of the ideas across space and time.
The “I and other” concept is also of interest in historical cookery, especially when one group is attempting to recreate the cuisine of another. I’ve been looking at early recipes for Indian curry written by non-Indians. So far, I have a small collection of English and American recipes from the 18th and 19th centuries that show curry powders and recipes developing from recipes that merely reminiscent as Indian in the eighteenth century to those that are nearly indistinguishable from modern recipes broken out by geographical region by the end of the nineteenth. The earliest amongst them (so far) is a recipe from Hannah Glasse’s The Art of Cookery made Plain and Easy, first published in 1747.
The Art of Cookery, 1774
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There’s no better time to eat your way through Paris than in June. It is abundant with local fresh fruits and vegetables, sunshine and flowers. It’s a sensual experience that one must experience at least once in a lifetime.
This slide show gives you a glimpse of just how beautiful and sensual it is. Enjoy.
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Husband Peter and I recently took a jaunt to Strasbourg with our German “family”, the Joerchels, to eat in a cozy little bistro in the heart of Petite France, the canal district of Strasbourg. Here’s a sample of the architecture and atmosphere of Petite France.
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This photo appears in Alessandro’s ongoing exhibit, Italian Food Rambling, on this site.
My first love for photography started with a little theft: as a little boy I stole my father’s Vöiglander and I started taking pictures on my own, just using my instinct. At that time my father’s camera seemed to me the best camera possible in the whole world, until I reached junior high school and I gave it up for a Bencini all my own. But my little theft came all back to me; my girlfriend to whom I had lent my camera never gave it back to me: that can be considered petty theft, no?
Growing up, I robbed again: in high school I stole time I might have devoted to photography and dedicated myself to my other passion, music. I studied drums and played jazz music. But it was just an infatuation, because I went back to my first love and never left it again. And as a pledge of love, I gave up my history studies in college, causing great distress to many people, but not to myself.
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Meet Jonell Galloway, a freelance writer and editor specialized in French cuisine. 
