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35 Articles

Pro Party Flex?

A warm batch of gougères, formed ahead of time, frozen, and baked off just as guests arrive. —Ryan McCarthy An assortment of vintage champagne coupes—everyone gets to choose their vibe for the evening, and nobody loses track of their glass! —Alex Testere A bowl of crème fraîche, topped with trout roe and served with Ruffles potato chips (ridges are essential!). —Frances Kim Front Cover Wild Game, Photograph, Gentl and Hyers Back Cover Three Wisconsin Cheeses, Oil on wood, Mike Geno Frame, LoraLiu/iStock via Getty Images Plus…

Pro Party Flex?

Dear reader, HELLO AGAIN! After a spring spent celebrating our print relaunch, Team s av eu r buckled down to spend the warmer months humming away at this, our second issue as an indie publication. I couldn’t be more excited to share it with you. As temperatures dip, many of us feel a primal need to come together over a meal, and this issue brims with rib-sticking feasts meant for sharing. In our opulent cover story, editor-at-large Shane Mitchell shifts her keen eye to the wild in a survey of game recipes rooted in the American South. (If there’s a hunter in your life, now is the time to invite them to dinner.) Writer Jasmine Ting interviews Filipino American chefs who break down the multi-island nation’s joyful kamayan tradition, as…

Introducing Our Contributors

Dwight Garner Author and New York Times Book Critic (New York, NY) At Assassination Custard, a (since-closed) 10-seat “hole-in-the-wall” in Dublin, Ireland, Garner relished gently cooked veal liver with fenugreek butter sauce. “The chef, Ken Doherty, is, like me, an offal person,” he says. Joan Nathan Cookbook Author (Providence, RI) Touring for her recent cookbook, My Life in Recipes, Nathan was “blown away” by the passionfruit financier at Warda Pâtisserie in Detroit, whose pastries are influenced by the owners’ Algerian roots. Felix Nankivell Illustrator (Sydney, Australia) For Nankivell, the hands-down winner was “steak frites at Le Bistrot Paul Bert in Paris. There is something so simple and elegant about steak and fries covered in cream, butter, and cognac.” We have to agree! Dr. Jessica B. Harris Culinary Historian and Author…

Introducing Our Contributors

The Honey Palate

C.MARINA MARCHESE has made it her life’s work to teach the world about bees. Known to many as the Honey Sommelier, the Connecticut beekeeper founded the American Honey Tasting Society and is the first U.S.-based member of the Italian National Register of Experts in the Sensory Analysis of Honey. She’s also the foremost English language expert on the topic, and was recently tasked with writing an atlas. “There’s no other resource out there on honey that gives a global perspective,” she says of the new compendium. “It really fills an important gap.” Beyond revealing shortcomings of industrial production and spotlighting honey’s many uses, The World Atlas of Honey offers deep history verging on the anthropological. Did you know that apiary symbolism was found inside King Tut’s tomb? Or that, to…

The Honey Palate

CRAB CAKE COOK-OFF

AN ATMOSPHERIC RIVER dumped rain on the Northern California harbor town of Fort Bragg. Volunteers spread straw over mud under the big tent as a DJ played sea shanties. In googly-eyed crab hats, my co-judges and I visited booths to begin tasting entries: A Thai-style crab cake atop a papaya salad strewn with peanuts; a crab cake dressed with pineapple slaw from a local Mexican restaurant. We came to judge the dishes of 12 local chefs vying for top honors in the 30th annual Seafood & Sips crab cake cook-off, a popular event that benefits Mendocino Coast Clinics, a community health nonprofit. The competitors pulled out all the stops as they collectively prepared over 1,500 pounds of fresh Dungeness crab. The crustaceans arrived aboard the Second Wind, a crab boat…

CRAB CAKE COOK-OFF

Sniffing Out Appalachia’s Blue Ridge Truffle

MUSKAT HAS BEEN FORAGING in and leading tours of the western North Carolina forests for over 30 years, helping oth-iners discover the wild edible treasures hiding his proverbial backyard. Muskat, known widely as the “Mushroom Man,” had long hoped to find truffles in the Blue Ridge Mountains. In 2007, his dream came to fruition when, while leading a small group through the woods, a young boy on the tour approached the forager with a golf ball-size object in his hand. When Muskat leaned down and sniffed, he immediately recognized the cinnamon-like funk. in the mountains, but until then, no evidence had been recorded, inspiring some to refer to it skeptically as the “Big Foot truffle.” Now, Muskat has proof that the Blue Ridge There had long been whispers among locals…

Sniffing Out Appalachia’s Blue Ridge Truffle

ANYONE WHO’S EATEN SICHUAN PEPPERCORNS knows you don’t simply taste the distinctive spice—you feel it. The ingredient’s instantly recognizable prickly sensation activates on the tongue, electrifying our experience of any dish, savory or sweet. Native to China and Taiwan, the Sichuan peppercorn, or huājiāo, is best known for bringing the má to málà—the flavor profile characteristic of Sichuan province’s beloved cuisine. When paired with chiles, the spice’s numbing effect acts as a calming foil to the chiles’ fiery burn. Both the earthy, potent red variety and its mild and floral green sister are foundational ingredients in Chinese five-spice, chili crisp, and myriad braises, noodle dishes, and stir-fries. (See “Tackle the Tingle,” p. 158.) Now, nearly 20 years after the U.S. government lifted a ban on the peculiar peppercorn, it’s springing up…

Threads of Heritage

STAINED THE COLOR OF RAW, RED earth, the meandering lines of designer Rachael Elliott’s Crossroads scarf (see photo, p. 4) tell a story—one of oceans crossed, ancestral lands, and the journey of the humble black-eyed pea. A staple crop from West Africa, the legume found its way to the Americas via the trans-Atlantic slave trade, often smuggled into jewelry or tucked into braided hair, an urgent attempt by enslaved people to retain a piece of their home. “Imagine going off into an unknown land, and all you have is a seed,” Elliott says. “And to hide it in your hair—which, as Black women, connects so many of us—it’s a very powerful thing.” For Elliott, whose maternal family is Liberian, this connection to her heritage was a motivating force behind launching…

Threads of Heritage

ON ELLISTON PLACE

WALKING INTO the Soda Shop on a Saturday with Dad was an instant serotonin boost. Inside the bustling restaurant, the clank of silverware and music from the jukebox mingled with greetings from smiling waitresses, pens behind their ears and order pads at the ready. With Dad leading the way to our table, I’d watch as ice cream floats and milkshakes materialized behind the counter, each topped with whipped cream and a neon-red maraschino cherry. The pies—a whole glass case full of them—begged to be sliced into. My twin sister Alice and I would slide into a booth and peruse the menus we’d seen a hundred times before, already attempting to persuade our Dad to let us order dessert. Since it opened in 1939, the Soda Shop has been a community…

ON ELLISTON PLACE

/fläm-'bwär/ noun; from the French flamber, “to singe or to blaze” Also: flambadou, capucin a cooking tool designed in the French Middle Ages for fat-basting during open-hearth cooking consisting of a metal or iron funnel or scoop affixed to the long end of a rod or stick. Used by “artisans de feu,” the tool was placed in the embers of a fire; once the funnel glowed red hot, it was filled with a piece of fat (often lard, tallow, or butter). The cook then drizzled the melting fat over the meat, basting the roast as the fat liquified.…

THE SKIN OF THE FIRST specimen—dubbed “Lemongrab,” from Warren, Vermont—is electric yellow with a hazy glow, almost as if lit from within. Pomologists, scientists who study the cultivation of fruit, call this irregularity scarf skin: The apple’s epidermis has separated slightly from its flesh, allowing light to refract in the spaces between. The effect is otherworldly; the fruit resembles a tiny planet, its whorls and flecks shifting like atmospheric storms. “Denbow Etoile,” “Bowdler Bitter,” and “Tonguelasher” are next on the table, three of the 160 wild apple varieties on display at Matt Kaminsky’s annual Pomological Exhibition in Williamsburg, Massachusetts. Each entry is diced and displayed on a paper plate alongside toothpicks for sampling. Pens and paper are provided for visitors to jot down their tasting notes. Observations run the gamut…

PAN-ROASTED PORK CHOP WITH APPLES AND MUSTARD-ONION GRAVY

Serves: 1–2 For orchardist Matt Kaminsky, a simple preparation of wild apples quartered and basted in butter is an excellent way to make the most of the fruit’s unusual and diverse flavor profiles—particularly when paired with a bone-in pork chop. In this recipe, any small, tart apples will suffice, but be sure to leave the skin on for the tannic complexity it brings to the dish. Position a rack in the center of the oven and preheat to 400°F. Pat a 1½-in.-thick bone-in pork chop dry with paper towels, then season generously with kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper. In a large skillet over medium-high heat, melt 1 Tbsp. unsalted butter. When it begins to foam, add the pork chop to one side of the pan and 2 tart…

PAN-ROASTED PORK CHOP WITH APPLES AND MUSTARD-ONION GRAVY

My Manhattan apartment does not have a dishwasher. We’ve debated installing one; there’s room, just barely. I always pull back at the last minute. I like doing the dishes by hand, the more the merrier, the crustier the better. Sometimes music will be playing. I’ll find myself moved by it, the way the English novelist Barbara Pym was, as she wrote in a 1943 journal entry, when she caught herself weeping to Yehudi Menuhin on the radio one evening while her hands were “immersed in the washing-up water.” More often, there will be silence. I get my best thinking done here, far from a blinking cursor, my raw hands plunged into the soapy warmth. I’m not, in general, the tidiest human being. My favorite haiku, which I keep meaning to…

FROM THE GROUND UP

“WINE IS STORYTELLING,” says Brandy Grey, a former journalist who pivoted to winemaking. One of the few Indigenous vintners in North America, Grey is motivated to represent her father’s Cherokee Shawnee heritage and to share the history of tribes in Oregon, where her Greywing Cellars is based. But stories can shackle as well: Conversations about the scarcity of Indigenous winemakers inevitably shadowbox with the “drunken Indian” trope—a stereotype that Native peoples have a genetic predisposition to alcoholism. This false narrative has made a lot of tribal funding in North America contingent on sobriety; alcohol was banned on U.S. reservations until the 1950s. As Grey notes, it can also be difficult to break into an industry frequently predicated on generational wealth. Winemaking has long been a culture of family dynasties; for people…

FROM THE GROUND UP

THE SCENE IS LIKE SOMETHING from Agatha Christie’s Poirot novels: In the golden glow of morning, a crowd gathers to board the huffing, gleaming train. Porters in starched white livery lead travelers to sleeping chambers outfitted with carved wood furniture and goose-down quilts. Then, with everyone snug in their cabins, a sharp whistle blows. The coach trundles off into the vast wilderness. Is it 1924 or 2024? With a sudden proliferation of old-world-style rail itineraries, your guess is as good as ours. Slow travel is back, and by train, you can skip the usual headaches of traffic and crowds in exchange for sweeping vistas, well-kept accommodations, and—increasingly—exceptional cuisine with a palpable sense of place. For an escape that’s as much about the journey as it is about the destination, consider these…

POLITICAL FOOTBALL

THE SPORTS RIVALRY between Egypt and Saudi Arabia took an unexpected culinary turn at a soccer match last December. As Al-Ahly and Al-Ittihad battled it out in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia, ahead of the FIFA Club World Cup semifinals, a chorus of curious chants rang out from the crowd. “Get ready, ta’ameya!” the Saudi fans shouted, referencing Egypt’s signature falafel. Unlike the standard chickpea fritters, ta’ameya are made from split green fava beans, resulting in a softer and (according to Egyptians) more flavorful falafel. But the Egyptian fans didn’t take the jeers lying down. “Kabsa eaters!” they fired back, name-dropping the Saudi one-pot mainstay of spiced chicken, rice, vegetables, and nuts. In Egyptian Arabic, kabsa also means “roasted,” which the Egyptians hoped would be the fate of the Saudis in the…

POLITICAL FOOTBALL

FULL-SPECTRUM STEMWARE

THE AVERAGE HOME BAR cart looks a little different these days. Low-ABV aperitifs and nonalcoholic spritzes sit alongside the usual boozy suspects, and instead of clear crystal, you may find a rainbow of mismatched glassware. Camp and colorful highballs and coupes speak to the genre of fast and loose gatherings we’ve come to love. You know, the kind where you’ll find an array of cheeses, tinned fish, and pickled things thrown together atop a coffee table or kitchen island strewn with tarot cards, half-burned candles, and yesterday’s mail. We celebrate the moment and the people around us with no fuss over formal place settings. Having unbridled fun calls for glassware as sturdy as it is joyful. Enter: borosilicate, a concoction of silica and boron trioxide invented in 1887 by German…

FULL-SPECTRUM STEMWARE

DELAWARE DELICACIES SMOKEHOUSE 420 Rhodes Rd. Hancock, NY EEL MAN RAY TURNER RARELY leaves his Catskills smokehouse these days, but he can still be hard to pin down: On a recent visit, after a dozen attempts to reach him by phone, Turner told photographer Murray Hall, “I’ve got a Ford, a canoe, and a waffle iron, and that’s it. I haven’t answered the phone in ten years.” For decades, Turner trapped his own eels on a hand-built stone-and-wood weir on the Delaware River before smoking and selling the slippery fish from his shop, a small outpost next to his home. Now, at 76, Turner finds that maintaining the weir—which requires rebuilding hundreds of feet of underwater rock walls each year—has become a challenge, but his smoker is still running. Customers…

THOUSAND-DOLLAR CITRUS

ON A RECENT WALK AROUND Williamsburg, Brooklyn, I happened upon a curbside stand where several Orthodox Jewish men were stooped over an etrog (the Hebrew word for citron, pronounced “ET-rog”). As they scrutinized the citrus fruit with a magnifying glass, they gently rubbed its knobby, bright yellow skin: If it was blemished in the slightest, the fruit was ruled out. Then they worked their way up to the pittom, Hebrew for the extruding top, and sniffed the citrus up and down to ensure it exuded an extraordinary aroma. I can still remember my first whiff of the etrog’s ethereal scent, fruity and more perfumed than any citrus I’d encountered. From that moment, I was under its spell. But why would a citron, with its thick, bitter pith and little edible pulp,…

THOUSAND-DOLLAR CITRUS

Toasting the Harvest

IT’S L ATE AFTERNOON in the Chehalem Mountains, and the winery crush pad is filled with the juicy scent of fermenting chardonnay mingling with steaming shrimp, black peppercorn, and celery. Assistant winemaker Aaron Fox sprays down a folding table that, moments earlier, held winemaking equipment; now, it will anchor a shared feast. “What was the final tonnage we brought in yesterday?” he asks as I pour him a glass of recently disgorged sparkling pinot gouges blanc from the cellar. For 20 years I’ve worked as a winemaker in Oregon’s Willamette Valley, and fall is always intense. A winery crew can often double in size during harvest season, when interns and seasonal fieldworkers roll in from all over the world to help craft the year’s vintage. The weeks-long harvest is tough, and…

Toasting the Harvest

Better Together

WHILE WALKING THROUGH Borgo Rossini, a tranquil neighborhood in Turin, the aroma of roasting cacao hangs in the air, a sensory signpost of the Guido Gobino chocolate factory. I had come to the northern Italian city not for chocolate but for hazelnuts—specifically the Tonda Gentile Trilobata hazelnut—which many gastronomes consider the greatest in the world. Its unparalleled richness and delicate texture enticed me to the hills of Piedmont’s Langhe region, where I visited farms and festivals dedicated to this local specialty. Eventually, the remarkable nut brought me here, to this fabbrica di cioccolato, where it’s ground to a paste and expertly blended with milk chocolate to make the confection known as gianduja. Ubiquitous across northern Italy, gianduja is often prepared and sold in bar form, a shape most suitable for…

Better Together

GONZALO GAVIÑA AND JIMENA GUTIÉRREZ Arana get cozy in their booth. We’re hanging out at El Mallín, their family restaurant on the edges of Bariloche, a small resort city in northern Patagonia. Warm autumn light bounces off the snow through the picture windows, making the Alpine décor glow as if the wood were stained the day before. Arana glances at the table. It’s crowded with the last bites of nostalgic local dishes with gentle amendments—a citrusy trout tartare, roast beef with elderberry teriyaki sauce, and halloumi with raspberries and blackberries. “It’s difficult to define what Bariloche food is because most people weren’t born here,” says Arana, the rare local who spent her childhood in this town, playing in the marshy meadows behind the restaurant. “Only in the past few years have…

ALL THINGS GAME ARE NOT ALWAYS WILD, and all things wild aren’t always fair game. Last fall, walking in my backwoods, I found a poacher had erected a portable blind and set out leftover Halloween pumpkins as deer bait. Not only did this trespassing flout Department of Environmental Conservation regulations—it also pissed me off, coming from a long line of Southern hunters who always stick to the rules. While I don’t hunt myself, I’ll gladly accept a brace of ducks or a backstrap of venison from friends who ask permission to legally stalk on my land. Where I live now, in northern New York, plenty of my neighbors still fill freezers with game to sustain their families all winter long. The extra meat stretches tight budgets and, sometimes, nourishes deep-rooted cultural…

THERE’S THE SIGHT of the colorful spread. The sounds of laughing friends and the crunch of crispy lechón skin. The smell of garlic wafting above the sinangag. And the complex, contrasting tastes and textures dancing on your tongue. Welcome to kamayan, the Filipino feast that stimulates the senses—especially the carnal, intuitive one many Western meals overlook: touch. Kamayan (from kamay, “hand,” in Filipino) refers to the pre-colonial tradition of eating without cutlery. Sixteenth-century Italian scholar and explorer Antonio Pigafetta, who documented Philippine history during the Magellan expedition, noted that natives used wooden spoons for serving and cooking—but not for eating. Nowadays, kamayan is synonymous with a communal feast of rice, grilled or roasted meats, seafood, and fruit, all laid atop a banana leaf-lined table, floor, or ground. The bounty is…

Kamayan at Home

No Plates, No Problem Instead of plates and utensils, line a clean surface with butcher paper or newspaper, then lay banana leaves on top. The leaves are available frozen or fresh at many Asian, Latin American, and African grocery stores. The Foundation The only non-negotiable at any Filipino feast is rice. Place steam Main Characters Consider dishes guests can grab easily, such as marinated meats, pan-fried fish, lumpia (fried spring rolls), skewers (sweet pork barbecue is always a hit), and grilled squid or prawns. Panoply of Produce Steamed bok choy and green beans are always a good idea, as are vegetables cooked in coconut milk. Sliced fresh fruit—mangoes, pineapple, and tomatoes, for instance—up the visual appeal. Dip or Douse It’s fun to serve a variety of sawsawan (dipping sauces) and…

Rodman Primack and Rudy Weissenberg

FROM THE MOMENT Rodman Primack and Rudy Weissenberg met at a Christmas party in 1997, they had a hunch they’d be entertaining together far into the future. Since that fateful day, the duo has designed more than 25 kitchens and houses, coauthored a book, and lived in a number of cities around the globe, including London, Guatemala, and—their current home base—Mexico City. I met them in Italy two summers ago, when we found ourselves crammed into the back seat of a car on the way to Lake Como—though it feels like we’ve known each other much longer. Secretly, I knew who they were before they introduced themselves: I’d long been a fan of the couple’s colorful and eclectic design style, which I’d clocked in all the big magazines and through…

Rodman Primack and Rudy Weissenberg

My first connection with Senegal was a fragrance. The scent was not a culinary one; rather, it was an astonishing mix of musk, amber, myrrh, and smoke—perhaps even a hint of Shalimar or Chanel No. 5.1 would later learn it was the incense known as thiouraye ("CHEW-rye"), a resinous mixture made from assorted local plants. It emanated from the elegant woman seated next to me on the plane and signaled that I was heading into a world unlike any I had visited before, one that would challenge all of my five senses. It was 1972, and this was my first trip to sub-Saharan Africa. Both familiar and foreign, and occasionally frustrating, Senegal would, over the next half-century, become one of my heart’s homes—a place where I now have friends as…

GOOD MORNING, MUMBAI!

Perched on a creaking bentwood chair, I watch a lungi-clad waiter stream a waterfall of piping hot coffee from saucer to tumbler and back, the meditative movement transforming the liquid into an airy froth. The kaapi, as it’s called here, is robust, milky, and sweet. I drink it scalding, before the lather settles and the surface creases into a milky skin. Soon, the table fills with food: crisp and golden masala dosa; kela bajji, battered and fried plantain; and fat medu vadai, lentil fritters furling with steam and soaked in a broth-like tamarind rasam. An abbreviated menu, inked in red, is stamped onto the wall behind me. Sunlight filters through the windows onto the checkered floor. My friend Priya Balasubramanian and I are at the iconic 86-year-old eatery Sharda Bhavan…

GOOD MORNING, MUMBAI!

The ROAD to MARRAKECH

ON A RECENT TRIP TO MOROCCO with her family, New York-based photographer Doaa Elkady was captivated by the vibrant markets and food vendors that span the country. Beginning in the capital city of Rabat, the group went on a multi-city driving tour before ultimately arriving in Marrakech. Each town and road-side stall had something new to offer. “[With] my husband and three kids, we rented a van, mapped out our stops, and got on the road,” Elkady recounts. Having just wrapped up a trip to Egypt, where Elkady was born, she says, “This was my first time in Morocco, and I was excited—for my children as well—to see the similarities and differences between these two Muslim-majority, Arabic-speaking countries on opposite ends of North Africa. And, of course, to explore all the…

The ROAD to MARRAKECH

SEARCHING FOR SOPA DE CHIPILÍN

THE BROTH WAS MURKY, swirling with elliptic leaves as I dredged up a shred of tomato and a half-moon of squash from the bottom of the bowl. The hot soup, known here in Chiapas as sopa de chipilín, is a balm for the biting mountain air in the highlands of Mexico’s southernmost state. I must have eaten half a dozen versions of this soup on this trip so far: some studded with kernels of field corn, others enriched with crema, and one with the region’s signature simojovel chiles fried and floating on the surface. Regardless of where I was or who was making it, the moss-green chipilín was present, with its beguiling, grassy flavor as ballast. I was at “the end of the road,” what locals have dubbed these borderlands…

SEARCHING FOR SOPA DE CHIPILÍN

A BIT PAST NOON on a balmy, rain-thick day in October, I knock on the door of a tumbledown building in the Brazilian port of Belém and ascend a narrow flight of wooden stairs. It took barely 20 minutes to walk here through the city’s historic center, but by the time I arrive at Iacitata Amazônia Viva, I have already broken into an inevitable equatorial sweat. Inside the restaurant and cultural center, floor fans whir by a pair of French doors flung open over a canopy of mango trees. A leaden sky mirrors the hammeredpewter surface of Guajará Bay, barely visible beyond the terracotta roof of a fortress built by the Portuguese more than 400 years ago to guard the southern flank of the Amazon Delta. Books and banners line…

QUEENS OF COMFORT FOOD

Elvira Fernández García strides out to the vegetable patch, a basket under her arm, while a train rattles along the valley in the distance. She cuts a handful of collard leaves for pote de berzas, a mixed-meat, bean-and-vegetable stew that hinges on the Spanish variety of this leafy green. Back in her kitchen, several large stew pots bubble gently on the stove. Born and raised in Asturias, the lush region on Spain’s northern coast, Elvira, or “Viri,” runs a small restaurant in San Román, where acres of farmland sit beside the river Nalón. El Llar de Viri, or Viri’s Hearth, occupies the ground floor of the house where Elvira’s parents once had their farmstead, grain mill, and butchery. Over the course of a quarter-century, together with her daughter-in-law María José…

QUEENS OF COMFORT FOOD

Blue-Ribbon Dungeness Crab Cakes Makes: 14 crab cakes THESE SQUAT PATTIES (see “Crab Cake Cook-Off,” p. 19) have lots of surface area for crisping in the skillet. Dungeness crabs are about 25 percent meat by weight, so source two 2-pounders for this recipe, or substitute picked crabmeat. If your local fishmonger doesn’t have any in stock, order online from Pike Place Fish Market or Giovanni’s Fish Market. Chefs Lynn Derrick and Janelle Weaver make their own blue cheese dressing (below) using Point Reyes Blue Cheese. In a pinch, a good bottled dressing will do. 2 celery stalks, finely chopped+ Koshersalt and freshly ground black pepper⅓ cup finely chopped shallots1 serrano chile, finely chopped1 Tbsp. finely grated lemon zest3 Tbsp. fresh lemon juice, divided1 Tbsp. vegetable oil, divided, plus more for…

If Cooks Could Kill

WHERE THERE’S A KITCHEN, there’s a good chance of blood—that’s the hook for countless mystery and crime writers as they sprinkle culinary intrigue throughout their novels. But the allure of good food might be even deadlier than the sharpest knife. Such is the threat in the 2024 translation of Butter by Japanese author Asako Yuzuki: Journalist Rika Machida finds herself face to face with a famed serial killer and food blogger, and the characters’ conversation quickly turns to home cooking. The murderer’s recipe for freshly cooked rice, studded with cold slivers of French butter and drizzled with soy sauce, intrigues Machida. Upon replicating the dish at home, the protagonist finds herself lost in its pleasures, falling into an affinity with the notorious killer, a trap tinged with gastronomic awe. Food…

If Cooks Could Kill

Kosovo’s Pepper Pickers A quarter century ago, most of the women in the village of Krushë e Madhe lost their husbands in the Kosovo War. As homemakers prior to the conflict, they were abruptly forced to provide for their families; their spouses’ deaths were never confirmed, so the government offered no assistance. In 2005, the widows banded together to sustain themselves by selling homemade ajvar, a roasted pepper spread that is a staple of Kosovar cuisine. Today, the Krusha Cooperative, founded by Fahrije Hoti, exports the group’s craftsmanship and sense of community around the world, one jar at a time.…

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