Just once in your life, cook a brisket, over smoky charcoal heat, on the grill. Do it for the solemn pride of having done so, and for the rime of authority it will lend to your future haughty pronouncements on the quality of others’ briskets. Do it because brisket—a massive cut of tough working muscle from the chest… »
Once upon a time, sure as you are born, some dingus was all, “Onions?!?! In your guacamole?!?! You motherfuckers!” »
On Saturday morning, an emergency call about squirrel abuse sent police to Brooklyn’s Prospect Park. When the officers arrived, they found not the brutal torture of a park squirrel, but what you see above: a happy Ecuadorean man, toasting a guinea pig on a wooden pole beneath sun and sky, free and brave and square… »
Pâté is a fun word to say through your nose. Paaaaah-TAY. You should practice this often, as it will accompany the finished product well as a signal to the swells that you are one of them. ARE you enJOYing your paaaah-TAY. »
With barbecue season upon us, it’s time to get proficient with your grill. But just as important as knowing what to do is knowing what not to do. Don’t let your skewers overcook, your burger become bland, or your steaks dry out. Here are some basic tenets to follow to avoid the most common grilling mistakes.
Cold fusion. Mars colonization. A cure for cancer. Peace on earth. Cute li’l goals, I guess, if you’re looking for a self-esteem boost.
There are many good reasons for grilling whole fish. The skin and bones keep the flesh moist and flavorful; the skin itself, when cooked well, is life-changingly delicious; whole fish stands up better to grilling heat than a fillet or fish steak will; whole fish usually costs less by weight than the portioned stuff;… »
I like to eat. Most of you do, too, I’m fairly sure, because I’ve seen you all doing it out at restaurants and in front of, behind, or under food trucks, and I daresay you looked quite pleased with yourselves. But due to the finite geometry of intestines and other guts, as well as the unwelcome but omnipresent… »
Hollandaise sauce is the lifeblood of the brunch-industrial complex. You want brunch—which is to say, you want eggs Benedict, the totemic brunchstuff, and maybe like some strawberries or quiche or whatever else goes with brunch? I dunno, I just really want some eggs Benedict, and it’s 11:30 already—but don’t know how… »
Roasting a chicken is the last threshold to full coming of age. Before you have done it, you are a fledgling. After, you are an elder. »
Pity the poor East Coast rat racer. Look at him, pouring out of the subway with his sooty, bedraggled kin, lurching through ill-lit corridors, past dripping pipes and glaring widows just missing him with the splash of their chamberpots. There he is, spending $12 on a substandard turkey sub. Here he goes, hat brim… »
You know how there's always a little bit of ketchup that you never quite get out of the bottle? It coats the inside; even if you do the thing where you stand the bottle on its head for 24 hours to let it all ooze down close to the nozzle, some of it never comes out, and goes in the trash. »
I love St. Patrick's Day. I know it's terribly unfashionable to admit so, but I love it all: I love the wearing of the green, I love the dogs in costume, I love the KISS ME I'M IRISH buttons. Give me a pair of glittered, bobbly shamrocks affixed to a headband and I'm one bonny Irish lass. The green beer? Hell yes.… »
This article originally appeared on October 12, 2013. I'm republishing it today because I went on an insane cauliflower kick this week, and also for the lesser reason that I couldn't find good ingredients for what I wanted to cook. If you're looking for something especially St. Patrick's Day-ish, put some chopped… »
Listen. I say the following with a pristine record of support for unhealthful dairy-based coating glops—both as a genre of foodstuffs and in most specific instances—as well as with the firm backing of all available science: Ranch dressing is bad. Bad dressing. »
The hippies over at Mother Jones magazine drew our attention to how McDonald's "can't decide whether to troll hipsters or embrace them," so while we all figure out which side of the coin ingesting kale falls on, we're wondering about the new McMenu. »