ISSUE ONE

WINTER 2006

Our Premiere Issue features
New York Times bestselling authors
Oliver Sacks & Mark Kurlansky
Plus Clifford A. Wright Eats with the Dogon of Mali. . .
Gerald Busby cooks with Virgil Thomson
Donald Newlove's Risotto Obsession

Issue One excerpts to whet your appetite

From Onigiri by Lisa Beatman . . .

. . . Mariko yawned, pressing the last ball into place. Head Mistress Miyata would be pleased - each onigiri resembled the next, each sticky rice kernel connected to the rest, each smooth ball seated upright in its modest green skirt. But Mariko knew each one had a secret heart. All the girls had their favorites, though they hid any hint of desire well away from the Miss Ichikawas, twin dragon ladies who, it was rumored, were born in the dormitory cellar to a Gakuin student back before the war, and had lived and worked there, molding the student body into respectable, productive citizenry, ever since . . .

From Watching Him Cook by Meredith Escudier

. . . I watch him. I photograph him. I inch my way around the kitchen looking for interesting angles as I try to document this act of oneness. I catch the denim shirt, the floured hands, the translucent onions. But I know I am intruding. "You're a wizard, a magician, a genius," I effuse. He responds with a pale smile and shakes his head. Recognition is not part of the deal. . .

From How to Wolf a Cook by Leslie McGrath

Prepare the mis en scene: lower the lights
and pour from her slim-necked carafe a half glass
of something chilled, astringent. Now let
your ravening gaze travel her nether-curves
as she spoons the stew or ladles the soup
into a shallow bowl and dresses it
with thyme she's torn from the stem.
You notice her thumbprint in the biscuit
as you bite down, a bit of gristle buried
in a chunk of lamb, the potatoes
neither raw nor soft, but to the tooth. . . .

From Beef by David Plumb

. . . During my lunch break I take a squid salad in my car to the supermarket so I won't have the growls all afternoon, because once you get cutting fish on Friday you don't get a break. I leave the empty pint container on the seat, take the magic marker from work, whip into the supermarket which for some reason is not too crowded and I waddle on up to the meat department. There they are. Piles of 3 pounds of FORMERLY GROUND CHUCK at $1.39 per pound.

I mean what do they do, add more fat to CHUCK and make him BEEF? It's all very confusing. I'm here to tell you that I'm about to make it unconfusing when I outs with my magic marker and start writing on the labels . . .