humanity
Humanity topics include pieces on the real lives of chefs, professionals, amateurs, inspiring youth, influencers, and general feel good human stories in the Feast food sphere.
Spoiled Rotten
Once upon a time, we ate real food. This is NOT that story. This is a story of how we are all spoiled rotten! Let me tell you about a little experiment I did years back. Okay, it didn’t start out as an experiment. It started out as a doggie bag from a barbecue I attended in early Spring. Or should I call it a feast of processed meats? Every now and again, I have to admit, I do like the taste of a slightly charred hot dog right off the grill. Surrounded by a lightly grilled bun, slathered with dijon mustard and sweet relish. I guess it brings back memories of childhood. (Minus the Grey Poupon) Or maybe it’s the chemicals and preservatives and sugar that they put in those things so that we become addicted to them that was the issue.
What Donuts Teach Me About Life
Holy Holey Fried Dough Discs, Batman! Life is sweet, especially when you have these little gourmet discs in it. But what do donuts teach us about life? What else do they offer except flavorful calories and tooth cavity risks?
Lo MitchellPublished 3 years ago in FeastFarmer, Dishwasher, Millionaire
Imagine, for a moment, that you’re on your way to dine at one of the world’s best restaurants. Maybe you’re going to Mirazur, entranced by the glamorous French Riviera and breathtaking views of the Mediterranean. Or, possibly, you’ve chosen Lima’s Central, and you’re ready to experience an adventure through Peru via the restaurant’s elevation-inspired tasting menu. Or perhaps you’ve been hearing about René Redzepi on shows like Chef’s Table, Ugly Delicious, or Parts Unknown, so you’re off to Noma in Copenhagen to see what this New Nordic cuisine is all about.
Kristy Ockunzzi-KmitPublished 3 years ago in FeastWhose Up For Supper
Whose Up For Supper How would you like some bull head caught right out of a stream that ran just off my grandfather's land, or home made pizza that had homemade spaghetti sauce for the foundation of one of the best pizza's in my days growing up? How would you like some EEL...Yes I said eel for dinner or a green grape pie for dessert?
Tina MillerPublished 3 years ago in FeastMigitas
I still remember the first time I ever smelled my first batch of migitas. I was little must have been maybe 3 or 4, and was walking by the kitchen, my mom was cutting up some tomatoes that looked extra juicy on a white plastic cutting board. I remember sitting at the countertop mesmerized by that color. She cut up the tomatoes then grabbed some corn tortillas and with her hands started shredding them, I distinctly remember the sizzling of the pan as the shreds of tortilla hit the pan.
Celia SanchezPublished 3 years ago in FeastKitchen Tales
Beyond macaroni cheese and our weekly plate of liver and onions, I can't remember a single meal my mother cooked from scratch.
Kate McGovernPublished 3 years ago in FeastWacky Wednesdays
When my son was in Montessori I volunteered to be snack chairman for a year. That entailed getting a snack, milk, and juice for approximately twenty children in early care. Providing a morning snack, juice, and milk for upwards of eighty children during regular class hours. Then making sure the after-school group of twenty plus children had something. The school had a no-sugar policy. The toddler class was not allowed grapes unless they were cut in half to lessen a choking hazard. Also, the school was required to meet certain health guidelines on dairy, fruit, and protein and post the weekly menu on the bulletin board for the health department to inspect. I knew none of this when I volunteered for the position.
TG GilliamPublished 3 years ago in FeastThe Way of Toast
Camp toast. It’s like comfort food on the trail and so simple to make. Spread some almond butter on it and top it off with some fruit, and you have yourself a hearty breakfast that delivers on nutrition with minimal time expenditure.
Kennedy FarrPublished 3 years ago in FeastThe Bircher Muesli Mutiny
Howdy to all of you super-outdoorsy souls who are already planning your menu for this spring’s camping, climbing, rafting, bicycling, kayaking, or hiking trip. It’s a general truth that dehydrated meals are the way to go when you’re going to be carrying any kind of weight on your back or in your boat . . . and it’s also true that while some of these expensive, ready-made meals that you buy in outdoor stores are pretty darned good, others are, at best, kind of mediocre. Why not set mediocrity aside and start each day on the trail with a fresh and energizing cup of Bircher muesli? It’s easy to make, and it tastes great.
Kennedy FarrPublished 3 years ago in FeastBrandy Milk Punch
My foodie heart comes from the city where I was born, raised and lived for over fifty years. In New Orleans, it is always about the restaurants. My parents and my maternal grandmother Memére most enjoyed the seafood places that diced Lake Pontchartrain. These were popular, unique, crowded on Friday nights, and all independently run. But Lenfant’s was my most favorite, close to our home in Lakeview, an upper middle class New Orleans neighborhood that changed drastically post Hurricane Katrina. There were starched white table cloths in the old pink building at Lenfant’s, and it was located next to a noisy railroad track. Demolished completely in later years, my visual memory still holds a clear, unforgettable picture of us sitting and enjoying the best ever seafood.
Cooking for the neighbors
Wiping sweat from her brow, with hands triumphantly on her hips, Arya looked down at her counter. Plated and pretty, she completed the final recipe for her cookbook, her dad’s manti recipe. Armenian dumplings, smothered in a stewed tomato sauce, topped with strained yogurt and brown butter. The earthy cumin fragrance and the sharp scent of sumac lingered in her apartment. Her neighbors have grown quite used to the smell, and the deliveries coming from Arya’s apartment these past few months. At least twice a week, she heads to the Fausto’s apartment, decked in her wildly Jackson Pollack-ed apron, with a bit of fresh bread, baked goods, and sometimes full meals, when her feverish day of cooking ends. They are always grateful, and even give her honest feedback when she asks. Every recipe, and “Fausto feedback,” is recorded in her little black notebook: very used, with sauce and grease stains on almost every page. She bought that book the same day she lost her job, two months earlier.
Carnivore!
have a confession. I am a carnivore. I’m also extremely weird. Let me explain the carnivore part first. You see, I LOVE meat. I can eat chicken, literally, every single day and not get tired of it. Porkchops? Bring it on. Beef? Oh, heaven! And that’s just listing the basic. I think the only meat I don’t like is fish (and even then, some get a pass like canned tuna fish) and slimy seafood like oysters. And the only reason I don’t like ham is the salt content but when I can get my hands on a ham that is unsalted, oh, delish!
Carmen CorridonPublished 3 years ago in Feast