mags

Nah, they haven't helped, but there was certainly lots of awful food available well before the Golden Arches and their greasy little kinfolk came along. I almost never had fast food when I was a kid -- I grew up in the city, and I don't think McDonald's and Burger King were even in New York at that time. Once every summer my family would go to some fast-food joint and get fried clams and frozen custard, and that was the extent of it. But I adored Captain Crunch and Campbell's pea soup, and my mother -- a truly terrible cook -- lived for frozen spinach souffle, Cool 'n Creamy frozen pudding, Cool Whip, and this disgusting Weight Watchers "cheesecake" made with Grape Nuts, fat-free cottage cheese, and Sweet'n Low. I still have bad dreams about it.

You know, I'm thinking here about the explosion of choice that we've seen in the food-universe, and the concurrant explosion of fast-food franchises. And I'm wondering if there isn't in fact something of a causal relationship between the two. Specifically, isn't there a level of choice at which the luxury of options tips into Overwhelm, prompting people to retreat from the act of choosing? In my two careers, I see something of a similar phenomenon. The bull market of the 90s, and particularly the late 90s, produced a flood of new investment options as banks and fund companies and insurance firms all scrambled to attract more of all that lovely lolly floating around. And the bear market that followed prompted a similar flood, with all the financial firms frantic to claim that THIS investment....no, THIS one....no THIS ONE would protect investors from losing money. But what's happened is that investors have largely given up trying to pick, and have turned in droves to brokers and "financial advisors" who are paid to do the picking. There's no way to determine the extent to which one condition (increasing number of choices) produced the other (decision to opt out of choosing), but I'd be willing to bet that there's a certain amount of causality at work. As a reader, what I love is surprise -- an unexpected plot-twist, a startling turn of phrase, a setting or situation or relationship I've never encountered before that nevertheless manages to convey a sense of inevitability. But as a bookseller, there's no question that what most of my customers want is predictability. They will buy the new Patricia Cornwell even if they've been disappointed by the last five in the series. They line up for the latest Sue Grafton despite having read the previous (counting in my head, here) 16. And they will line up for it despite -- no, BECAUSE -- of the fact that little has changed from Book #1 in the series. What they crave is the sameness, which strikes me as not very different from craving the assurance that a Big Mac in Tokyo will taste and look very much like a Big Mac in Sioux City. As it happens, my bookshop tends to have a very low correlation with bestseller lists, because we are screamingly full-service, which is just another way of saying that we act as "reading advisors." You don't know what book to read/what mutual fund to buy? If you're willing to shell out more than you'd pay at Barnes & Noble/a discount brokerage, we'll do the choosing for you. In either case, your needs and tastes are analyzed, and you are relieved of the obligation to make sense of the ever-expanding menu of options. Those who opt for the series (or the Big Macs) are taking the same route. They prefer a mediocre experience to the risk of a bad one, and to the effort of designing their own experience.

Well, but I get to take the squab and foie and dainties home with me -- and wear them, somewhat permanently. I think of them as protection against the chill that will soon invade my garret. (Actually, for what it's worth, I DO live in a garret. ) Sort of like my own internal parka. The pens, meanwhile....eh, a fleeting pleasure. Nah, but seriously, the whole concept of what's pretentious is an interesting thing. And Old Money, of course, has pretentions of its own, even if they do tend to be of the wearing-the-ratty-cardigan sort. One of the most genially grubby (and nicest) people I've ever met is the current Lord Curzon, heir to the "My name is George Nathanial Curzon/I am a very superior person" line. He's a landscape architect, whose services are apparently in demand all over the world, but if you ask him what he does he says he potters about in the garden. Just a different kind of pretention.

There's a bit in one of the Bill Bryson books where he's talking about cricket, and the teams' apparent habit of constantly breaking for what he calls "late-morning nibble" followed by "pre-lunch snack," which segues into lunch, the "post-lunch selection of pastries," and a general wistfulness that it's still so long till tea. One assumes they burn off the calories by doing quite a lot of strenuous standing-around.

Thanks, FG. I gotta tell ya -- though it does make me feel rather like Liza Doolittle, proudly articulating "I come in a taxi!" -- that the whole snipping-of-the-live-mint-leaves-while-wearing-the-white-gloves bit makes my teeth itch. I'm a lady, I am, but I'm also an unreconstructed 70s liberal, and there's quite definitely a level of oppulence that makes me both uncomfortable and irritable. I mean, I suspect the tea would taste just as wonderful if you WEREN'T wearing the little white gloves. Oddly, it's much more a matter of snobbery and aesthetics than of politics; it's not that I want to give the gloves to the poor and gloveless, but that I find them profoundly and tackily arriviste, a touch designed to give the benighted little American hausfraus the exquisite frisson of living, if only for an instant, Just Like the Rich Do. So I guess what I'm saying is that I find it insulting, in a backhanded sort of way, as though the gesture implies that I'm the benighted little American hausfrau who's going to be impressed by it. The gloves -- along with the Selection of Pens -- strike me as a tribute to the Donald Trumps of the world, and that just makes me shudder.

Yabbut B. Smith's used to have a salmon-and-roast-mushroom salad I was very fond of.

Oh my god...is that really a recipe in the book? Those brands are serious? Holy smokes. When people kvetched about the brands, I figured they were talking about the occasional advocacy of Hellman's or College Inn broth or something. But this is just ridiculous. AGGGGGH! I just went to the site and looked at the recipes. Ok, I take back every single exculpatory thing I said about this woman and her promotional work. Edited for hyperventilation.

That's very noble of you, Adeguilio, but I couldn't possibly allow you to make such a sacrifice. Eliot, thanks. Actually, the tasting menu is a great idea, if only because it avoids that awful thing where you're trying to downplay your greediness by ordering the cheapest things on the menu. Am I the only one who does this? Dammit, I'm 43 years old, and it's time for me to come out of the closet. STAND UP FOR YOUR GREED, I say! Anyway, that, in turn, reminds me of a conversation I had with my friend Margie when we were in 7th grade, and trying to figure out what we could order when being taken to dinner by A Boy. (We must have had pretty grandiose fantasies; most of said dinners involved pizza, as I recall.) We decided that whatever we ordered, it had to be something that wouldn't drip, wouldn't crumble, wouldn't stick to our teeth, wouldn't give us bad breath or a liquid moustache, and wouldn't bust the Boy's (piggy) bank. We finally decided that the ideal date dinner was a swiss cheese sandwich, no condiments, on pita bread, and a glass of water. Ahhhh, the sensuality of food....

So I am apparently getting taken to dinner at Ducasse next week. I know, I know, it's a grubby job, but dang it all, a woman's gotta do what a woman's gotta do. Does anyone have any suggestions for me? I mean, I know not to wear jeans and a tee-shirt with "Oy, I'm schvittzing!" spelled out in rhinestones across the front. But do they still do that weird thing with the pens? Should I make sure to order the rabbit? Are there any pitfalls in the menu? All responses appreciated. Maggie

Eliot, I bowed out of the political forum in which I used to participate precisely because I got bored with personal attacks being substituted for actual debate. If that's what you're up for, allow me to recommend the Republican forum on Compuserve (and available also on the web); it tends to specialize in that kind of discourse. Other than that, I'm going to follow the advice that was kindly emailed to me, and opt out of further discussion with you. -- Maggie

Is it really a mystery why any service provider from a mom and pop grocer to the NYC Subway system would rather you pay a large sum in advance for use of a product or service? This solves cash flow problems and reigns in operating costs. Do you rally think the discount at Sherry-Lehman on the 2000 Bordeaux futures, or the 10% case discount on 1995 Y’quem is offered as a way to stick it to the poor? I trust not. The same economic principle applies to public transportation, something else largely funded by the people who get those measly “discounts.” I’m enjoying the fact that this thread has become a raw discussion of its thesis finally. From the romance of the Chef’s Collaborative mission statement and Rick Bayless to the idealized adult poor, who through no fault of their own find themselves in poverty, conspired against by evil business folk who’d deny them organic produce, artisanal breads, and almond flour. We too took long trips to the grocery store (like your friend), but we went for lower prices, relative safety, and selection. Something not realistically to be expected from shop owners who have to pay for alarm systems, Plexiglas, and horrific insurance costs which by economic necessity must be passed on to the consumers by way of product markups. All this before theft drives the prices up even higher. Best of all, these mom and pop organizations are usually rewarded by thin margins, threats of violence, and charges of racism. “I lived on a student's stipend in bleakest Somerville, lo these several years ago, schlepping to the Star Market was a major event,” you write. Though Somerville is a pit, it’s truly vile to compare a walk to Inman Square on a student’s stipend to poverty. From what you've relayed it sounds like you were broke, not poor, and yes there is a difference. EM "The strong do as they will; the weak suffer as they must," Thucydides You seem to be riding several high horses at once, Eliot. Horse #1: No, of course I don't believe there's any mystery as to why businesspeople would prefer customers to buy in bulk, nor did I suggest there was. And I certainly don't believe that this preference grows out of a desire to "stick it to the poor." Nevertheless, that is often a regrettable outcome of the preference, and I do find it appalling that city government would blatantly collaborate in said sticking. Which doesn't mean, of course, that I give up the groovy 10% discount to which my comparatively fat income entitles me. And I suspect I'm liable to get knocked for thread drift here. Horse #2: Why the quote marks around "discount"? If I buy 20 subway rides at one shot, I get a 21st ride for free. In what linguistic universe is this not a discount? If you want to turn it around, I suppose you could think of it as an instant, guaranteed 10% return on my investment, but in either instance, it's a benefit that's not available to people who can't afford to shell out for all 20 rides at once. Horse #3: Your characterization of "the idealized adult poor" and "evil business folk" is yours, not mine. And why, BTW, confine those idealized poor to adults? Is it ok to idealize poor teenagers? What's the cutoff age? Oh, and purely for what it's worth, I'm a business folk. In April, we celebrate our tenth anniversary. We'll be throwing a big ole' party. If you're in New York, you're welcome to drop by. Horse #4: You mention taking long trips to the grocery store in order to have access to "lower prices, safety, and selection." I would say that accords pretty much with both my statement and -- contrary to your suggestion -- my friends' childhood experience. Lower prices, safety, and selection are pretty much the benefits provided by large chain stores over neighborhood bodegas. And they're the benefits to which the poor -- as your post indicates -- typically have less access to than the rich and middle class. Horse #5: Ok, so you're suggesting that the reason bodegas typically have higher prices than chain stores is that the mom-n-pop operations have to pay for "alarm systems, plexiglass, and horrendous insurance costs." What, you think WalMart doesn't pay for security systems? Of course, they're able to get a good price on those security systems (guards, cameras, what-have-you) because they buy in bulk, and they pass the savings on to their customers. Which is, oddly enough, exactly what happens with milk and potato chips and toilet paper that WalMart also buys: They get a volume discount, and pass the savings on to customers. And before you conjure up another horse here, understand that I'm not suggesting there's anything inherently wrong with volume discounts. I offer them in my business as well. But I do think there's something wrong -- or intellectually dishonest, if you like -- about pretending that those volume discounts don't penalize stores that aren't able to take advantage of them (and, by extension, the smaller stores' customers). We're back to the discount on subway rides again. Oh, and retail margins are almost always thin, particularly when it comes to grocery stores. It's a classic volume business. Horse #6: I agree, it would indeed be "truly vile to compare a walk to Inman Square on a student's stipend to poverty." I'd be thoroughly ashamed of myself, had I done so. Happily, I didn't. And Somerville is much less of a pit these days, by the way. Even JP is getting gentrified. Horse #7: Oh, I was absolutely broke rather than poor. And there's a difference? Gollies, who knew? Edited for typos

I'm not blaming capitalism nor crediting it (and FWIW, I am far from a true believer in the market economy). However, in a largely capitalist system, businesspeople tend to open stores in areas where they believe they are most likely to make a profit. And, as Mr. Sutton reminded us, that's where the money is. You may well be right with regard to community politics in Harlem; beyond a piece I did on The Body Shop some six years ago, that's not something I've spent any time looking at. But the same phenomenon -- of poorer communities being underserved by chain retailers -- tends to prevail both across the country and to a large extent across the world. My ex has powerful memories of growing up poor in Cincinnati, and taking long bus-trips with his mother every week to get to a decent grocery store. Friends who grew up broke in Chicago and Boston have similar memories. And hell, when I lived on a student's stipend in bleakest Somerville, lo these several years ago, schlepping to the Star Market was a major event. I was reminded of those trips every time I read a segment of the Julie/Julia project that dealt with the trials of grocery-shopping in Long Island City. It's really not any different from the system in NYC that allows the better-heeled to buy their subway tickets in bulk for a 10% discount, while those who can't afford to buy in bulk have to pay full price. Them as got shall get, and it still is news.

It's been pretty well established for a while that poorer parts of town (and why the quote marks? -- you're suggesting that folks in Harlem don't really make less money than those on Manhattan's Upper East Side?) are underserved by retail chains in general and grocery stores in particular. The tend to have to rely on small bodegas -- mom-n-pop-operated stores with limited inventory and, typically, a very limited inventory of fresh meat, fish, and produce. To a large extent, this is basic capitalism in action: It takes a lot of dough to open a large chain store, and the owner needs to assume a given level of sales per square foot in order for the decision to make financial sense. If the neighborhood doesn't generate a lot of disposable income, the likelihood of his making his nut goes way down. So he doesn't open there. The small stores that do open don't have economies of scale, they can't buy in quantity and thus get bulk discounts, and their prices are thus often higher than in the large chains. A few years ago, Fairway -- to great, and rather self-serving fanfare -- opened a large branch in Harlem. (Which, of course, is rapidly gentrifying, and thus not entirely a poor neighborhood any longer.) I don't know what their P&L looks like. But I do know that when The Body Shop opened a branch on the same street at about the same time, the company was very clear that the store was expected to be a "loss leader" -- that is, it was expected to lose money. The Body Shop owes a lot of its success to its Do Good image, and any financial losses it made on that one store could well be outweighed by the PR gains generated by Bringing Peppermint Foot Scrub to Impoverished Black Teens. Most chains don't have that equation to work with, so they stick to where the incomes are higher.

I recall reading that images of women on magazine covers always outsell the alternatives (men, food, solid gold Cadillacs, etc.) regardless of the magazine's intended audience. I guess that's obvious, considering the covers of the majority of women's magazines. Must be one of those unconscious, primitive-brain instinctual sorta thingies. It's pretty simple. Women identify with the women on the covers of the magazines: We briefly, usually unconsciously, imagine ourselves having THAT body, wearing THAT dress, having baked THAT cake, whatever. Basically, when a (straight) woman sees a picture of a woman on a magazine cover, she puts herself in the picture. When a (straight) man sees the same picture, he puts himself in bed with the picture. At least, that's MO.

Thank you.

Monica, I eat low-carb, and cook Indian food (or my weenie New York Jew version of it) fairly regularly. Can I help you with something? You're welcome to PM me.

You're not the only one who finds this device -- and the entire Ghetto Adorable shtick -- tiresome.

Hey Seth, how did you like the squash puree?

The recipe does sound good but I want to hear about the ghost town, the mean camel and the "world's fastest bar."

Picking up on what someone else here said about Portugese bread, it occurs to me that the HK and Chinese baked breads I've had have been a lot like Portugese sweet bread -- similar soft, fluffy texture with no discernible crust and a definite sweet flavor. You might want to try a recipe for that.

Very fond of dates. Also a nice fig on occasion.

James Villas, in one of his cookbooks, has very harsh words for those who attempt to make classic Murkin canned-soup casseroles with roux and fresh veggies et al. Well, not so much harsh -- he says he tried the experiment many times, only to realize that the authentic identity of these casseroles (meaning the Great GBC, as well as tasties like tuna casserole) requires certain processed products, that making them from scratch doesn't make them better, only less themselves. Kind of like making salade nicoise with fresh tuna rather than tinned, or making brandade with fresh cod rather than salted-and-dried. It's not that the scratch version isn't as "good" (or better), it's just that it isn't the same dish. I'd bet there's any number of dishes that come from our various childhoods that rely, for their essential nostalgic savor, on tacky processed products that our adult palates would cringe from, most of the time. I was never a Fluffernutter eater, but I'd guess that people who adored Fluffs as kids -- and who retain a yearning for them, with all the safety and mom-love they represent -- would not be satisfied with a sandwich made with pure, unadulterated PB (instead of Jif or Skippy), and homemade marshmallow sauce on an artisinal baguette.

Thanks, Monica!

I am seriously there, Betty. No lie.

That sounds wonderful, Jinmyo. What did you braise the beef in?