The Art of Eating In
Page 38
For some reason, and I’m sure it’s not entirely because of the cooking experience, the two years I spent not eating out in New York were some of the best ones of my life. Blogging is a unique modern phenomenon, one that has helped me connect with strangers and feel comfortable being open about my stories and my emotions in ways I never dreamed I’d be. I think there’s something valuable in this. Whether it was because I became more used to being uncensored around people—and this is not necessarily a good thing for the other people’s sakes—or because of something else, the idea of stepping away from cultural standards by doing something such as not eating out now looks much less intimidating. Going out there to Walden Pond like Thoreau, or to the Andes, as Professor Cooper did, or to the Dumpster behind a supermarket, or simply doing something a little differently from everyone else and actually enjoying it is itself a novel thrill. And as long as it’s not hurting anyone, what’s the harm?
The people in the examples just mentioned had a rigorous ideology, an agenda, and a principle they wanted to prove from the start. My purpose in not eating out was much more lighthearted, for fun and to save up my money. But had I not gone on with it, I might have never been turned on to wild foraging, or discovered the incredible waste situation in this country. In small ways, my quest became somewhat political. Had I not become so familiar with food over those years, I probably wouldn’t be as attuned to where it was coming from, and how it was grown. I’ve become more mindful of what I’m eating as a result of the mission, whether it is responsibly or humanely grown, healthy, and local.
Seeing the rise in home and urban gardening in the past year or so, I know I missed a great opportunity in this book and project by not covering this very positive trend. In 2009, I briefly met Joan Gussow, who was presenting at a panel discussion after a screening of the documentary film Fresh. Joan is the pioneer of New York’s urban gardening and farming movement, who in the 1950s transformed her backyard into an organic vegetable patch that she produced almost all of her food from—and was seen as completely crazy for at the time. Today, thanks in part to President Obama and the First Lady’s organic vegetable garden, so many new people are growing plants that in 2009 there was a national seed shortage. It goes on; I have several friends now who raise chickens in their backyards, or keep bees. It’s not for hobby or experimentation, either—it’s utilitarian; they’re eating what they grow. And they’re saving lots of money and keeping healthy and environmentally aware in the process. I had at first written off the idea of doing any extensive gardening on my own during my not-eating-out years because I had no outdoor space (going to farmers’ markets, joining a CSA, or foraging instead). Now there are more community gardens in New York City than ever. Why it did not occur to me to join one, or simply explore people who did live off food they had grown or raised in the city and elsewhere before September 2008, when this book ends chronologically, I am not sure. But ever since then, urban gardening, farming, and agriculture in general have certainly become a food obsession for me. And there are many more writers avidly covering these topics, too.
Any other loose ends I may have lying around here? I had fun on my dinner date with the winner of the Chile Pepper Fiesta shortly after “opposite week,” but we found we didn’t have much in common (besides competing in chili cook-offs) and fell out of touch soon afterward. Afer that dim sum lunch, I would hang out with Keith many more times and still do—but just as friends. I still have yet to invite someone over for dinner as a first date (which I didn’t think would be too nerve-wracking until a friend brought up the point that it eliminates the question “Your place or mine?”). There hasn’t been another enactment of the SOS supper club to date, even though I and most of its founding members are still very much single. I still haven’t launched that food newsletter start-up with Saha, but in the planning process we created a mini-supper-club series with homemade vegetarian food and about eight carefully invited guests at a time.
In the winter of 2008 and 2009, Michael Cirino and the A Razor, A Shiny Knife supper-club crew executed a nine-part dinner series spanning three cities inspired by the notorious $1,500 a plate, twenty-four-course menu created by chefs Thomas Keller and Grant Achatz that same winter (our version cost only $300 a plate, however). I joined the team in New York and San Francisco to help pull off the feat. There are at least five new supper clubs that I’ve visited, met the members of, or cooked with since the writing of this book. Overwhelming numbers of amateur cook-offs have been held in front of shoulder-to-shoulder crowds in bars in New York City since, too, inspiring The New York Times to publish a story on the trend in its dining section in the summer of 2009, for which I was interviewed.
In the spring of 2009, Karol and I hosted our second annual Risotto Challenge. We made it a fund-raiser for the local, sustainable, and food-justice-promoting nonprofit Just Food, and raised more than $1,800 for the organization through everyone’s risotto efforts. Also that spring, I started a supper club and cooking community with my friend Akiko, called the Hapa Kitchen. For each dinner, we source the night’s meal from local farmers and food purveyors and often bring them to the event to dine with the guests. Founded on the idea that people who are half Asian share a unique take on food from their multicultural households, our signature is innovative dishes peppered with Asian references.
Also in 2009, I decided to tap into other people’s thoughts on dating without going to restaurants by hosting a podcast radio talk show called Cheap Date. The weekly program on Heritage Radio Network features different in-studio guests, like food or dating experts, as we tackle the subject.
Then of course, I wrote this book. Thanks so much for reading.
Acknowledgments
I might not have thought to write this book without the instigation of Libby O’Neill, my former agent. Her patient encouragement in conceptualizing it, and convincing me that enough people would want to read about “not eating out in New York” to print a book was truly a gift. And when she left for law school, she couldn’t have trusted my project to a more thorough, professional, and food-loving successor than Ethan Bashoff at Inkwell Management, who completed the job seamlessly.
Hats off to my hardworking editor, Jessica Sindler, whose insights were always right on, and everyone at Gotham/Penguin for believing in this book. I’m so glad to have worked with the talented illustrator Evah Fan, who put such imagination and whimsy into drawing my likeness, and who was a joy to get to know along the way. And uberthanks to Robert Sietsema, who is just about the coolest guy, ever.
Writing a book solely based on real experiences involves trusting people around you to have an iron tolerance for humility. Which, of course, few people do. So my deepest thanks to Karol, Matt, Jordan, my family, and all the folks who walk through this book, as they did in my life. Thanks, in the first place, for touching my life.
Most of all, I want to thank anyone who’s read my blog, attended a food event I hosted, or anyone I cooked beside. It’s such an exciting and warm surprise to know that I’ve made so many friends through cooking. And knowing how awesome these people (who love food and cooking) are, it’s been such a blessing. Let’s keep cookin’, and keepin’ it real, fun, fresh, and delicious.
About the Author
Cathy Erway writes the tremendously popular blog “Not Eating Out in New York” (www.noteatingoutinny.com), featuring recipes, ruminations, and rants about all things home cooked. She also writes about food, agriculture, and green living for Saveur and The Huffington Post. Her work has appeared in such publications as Edible Brooklyn, Time Out NY, The L Magazine, and Serious Eats. She lives in Brooklyn.
1
If you don’t have sushi vinegar, you can substitute 3 tablespoons rice vinegar, 1 tablespoon water, and 2 teaspoons sugar, dissolved over heat.
2
It’s best to use pure, unseasoned red chili powder, which can be found in Latin American or specialty spice stores. Most seasonings called “chili powder” have a mixture of other spices, such
as cumin, and a lot of salt. You’ll want to adjust the salt accordingly if using one of these.