How Bourbon is Made: The ABC’s in 9 Minutes

Head over to Prince­ton Uni­ver­si­ty’s web entry on Bour­bon, and you will learn that, back in 1964, the U.S. Con­gress rec­og­nized Bour­bon Whiskey as a “dis­tinc­tive prod­uct of the Unit­ed States,” and the Fed­er­al Stan­dards of Iden­ti­ty for Dis­tilled Spir­its (27 C.F.R. 5.22) estab­lished a bunch of laws defin­ing what Bour­bon is, and isn’t. The Stan­dards read as fol­lows:

  • Only whiskey pro­duced in the Unit­ed States can be called bour­bon.
  • Bour­bon must be made of a grain mix­ture that is at least 51% corn (maize).
  • Bour­bon must be dis­tilled to no more than 160 (U.S.) proof (80% alco­hol by vol­ume).
  • Nei­ther col­or­ing nor fla­vor­ing may be added.
  • Bour­bon must be aged in new, charred oak bar­rels.
  • Bour­bon must be entered into the bar­rel at no more than 125 proof (62.5% alco­hol by vol­ume).
  • Bour­bon, like oth­er whiskeys, must be bot­tled at not less than 80 proof (40% alco­hol by vol­ume.)
  • Bour­bon that meets the above require­ments and has been aged for a min­i­mum of two years may (but is not required to) be called Straight Bour­bon.
  • Straight Bour­bon aged for a peri­od less than four years must be labeled with the dura­tion of its aging.
  • If an age is stat­ed on the label, it must be the age of the youngest whiskey in the bot­tle.

If a spir­it does­n’t com­ply with these rules, it ain’t Bour­bon.

In the video above, Gear Patrol takes a clos­er look at how Bour­bon is made. The pro­duc­ers toured 12 dis­til­leries in five days, and asked each to explain the Bour­bon-mak­ing process. Along the way, you will fig­ure out why so much Bour­bon comes from Ken­tucky. It comes down to geol­o­gy, not chance.

via Devour

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The Physics of Guin­ness Beer Demys­ti­fied

How to Open a Wine Bot­tle with Your Shoe for the DIY Con­nois­seur

Sci­ence & Cook­ing: Harvard’s Free Course on Mak­ing Cakes, Pael­la & Oth­er Deli­cious Food

MIT Teach­es You How to Speak Ital­ian & Cook Ital­ian Cui­sine All at Once (Free Online Course)

Michael Pollan Explains How Cooking Can Change Your Life; Recommends Cooking Books, Videos & Recipes

Last year, we fea­tured “How Cook­ing Can Change Your Life,” an ani­mat­ed short based on the work of In Defense of FoodThe Omni­vore’s Dilem­ma, and Food Rules author Michael Pol­lan. If you want more — and the culi­nar­i­ly inclined fans of Pol­lan, a self-described “lib­er­al food­ie intel­lec­tu­al,” often can’t get enough — have a look at his extend­ed pre­sen­ta­tion on the same sub­ject above. (If you pre­fer an audio pod­cast, you can get an MP3 with audi­ence Q&A and all here.) The talk came as part of an event held at the Roy­al Soci­ety for the Encour­age­ment of Arts, Man­u­fac­tures and Com­merce (RSA), which con­fronts the daunt­ing ques­tion of how peo­ple can “improve their family’s health and well-being, build com­mu­ni­ties, help fix our bro­ken food sys­tem, and break our grow­ing depen­dence on cor­po­ra­tions.” Pol­lan’s rec­om­men­da­tion, it may or may not sur­prise you to hear, comes down to one sim­ple act: cook­ing.

Of course, any­one who decides to jump into cook­ing in the 21st cen­tu­ry real­izes how sim­ple it isn’t, or at least how com­pli­cat­ed we’ve made it. Pol­lan, as luck would have it, real­izes this, so today we’ve round­ed up some of his resources that can help you learn to cook bet­ter, or indeed cook at all. Sur­pris­ing­ly, the man him­self has nev­er writ­ten a cook­book. “While I enjoy cook­ing, I’ll leave the art of per­fect­ing and dis­sem­i­nat­ing recipes to the pros,” he writes. “That said, I believe that if you can read, you can cook, and I have a few cook­books that I use reg­u­lar­ly and rec­om­mend to those of you want­i­ng good, healthy and basic recipes” — from Mark Bittman’s How to Cook Every­thing and How to Cook Every­thing Veg­e­tar­i­an to Chez Panisse chef Alice Waters’ The Art of Sim­ple Food, and even (“when I have an ingre­di­ent I want to use but don’t know what to do with it”) epicurious.com.

You can find more Pol­lan-endorsed food read­ing, includ­ing San­dor Katz’s The Art of Fer­men­ta­tion and Michael Moss’ Salt Sug­ar Fat, on his lists at Omnivo­ra­cious and Barnes and Noble. He also offers a roundup of online cook­ing resources:

Pol­lan’s sec­tion on cook­ing class­es and oth­er ways to learn to cook, aside from a vari­ety of sug­ges­tions of region­al insti­tu­tions, includes these use­ful options:

  • A “free, beau­ti­ful book full of recipes that fit a food stamp bud­get” called Good and Cheap.
  • Skill­Share, whose “inno­v­a­tive plat­form allows almost any­one, any­where to teach a project-based class either online to a glob­al com­mu­ni­ty or offline in their local com­mu­ni­ty. You can search for cook­ing, brew­ing or bread bak­ing class­es in your region.”
  • Life­Hack­er and its “cook­ing advice, recipes and how to’s.”

And if you missed it, don’t for­get to take Pol­lan’s own course “Edi­ble Edu­ca­tion,” free from UC Berke­ley. I like to think he’d sec­ond my own advice on the mat­ter: just cook some­thing that sounds good, any­thing that sounds good, right now. Not that I dare inflict the result on friends and fam­i­ly until I’ve learned a lit­tle more — which is when all those links above come in handy.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

How Cook­ing Can Change Your Life: A Short Ani­mat­ed Film Fea­tur­ing the Wis­dom of Michael Pol­lan

Michael Pollan’s Book, Food Rules, Brought to Life with Ani­ma­tion

Michael Pol­lan on Sus­tain­able Food

MIT Teach­es You How to Speak Ital­ian & Cook Ital­ian Cui­sine All at Once (Free Online Course)

Sci­ence & Cook­ing: Har­vard Profs Meet World-Class Chefs in Unique Online Course

Col­in Mar­shall hosts and pro­duces Note­book on Cities and Cul­ture and writes essays on cities, lan­guage, Asia, and men’s style. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­les, A Los Ange­les Primer. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

53 New York Times Videos Teach Essential Cooking Techniques: From Poaching Eggs to Shucking Oysters

I was blessed to grow up around a grand­moth­er who cooked every meal like she was feed­ing a dozen fam­ished farmhands. She nev­er spelled out all her var­i­ous tricks and short cuts … let’s not call them hacks. She just did what she did, and I picked it up by osmo­sis, using a juice glass for a bis­cuit cut­ter and watch­ing for pock­marks in the pan­cake bat­ter. End­less hours in her kitchen made me a con­fi­dent chef long before I was in a posi­tion to buy my own gro­ceries.

Not every­one is so for­tu­nate, I know.

They get their infor­ma­tion from Julia Child, Martha Stew­art, some pseu­do­ny­mous food blog­ger or pos­si­bly my friend, Jesse, whose exper­tise as a builder extends to things culi­nary. He once insist­ed on show­ing me a more effi­cient way to cut up man­go. My grandmother’s trop­i­cal fruit expe­ri­ence maxed out at oranges, so I was on my own in the sep­a­rat­ing man­go flesh from man­go bone depart­ment. I tried it his way a cou­ple of times, before revert­ing to my non-way.

There’s unde­ni­able com­pet­i­tive­ness amongst those of us who pride our­selves on our cook­ing abil­i­ties. Our skills are our hon­or. So help me if I went on Top Chef, and some guest judge decreed I was doing some­thing wrong!

For the record, The New York Times endors­es Jesse’s man­go tech­nique above, in their short instruc­tion­al video series, Cook­ing Tech­niques. There are 53 videos in total.

I can see how such a col­lec­tion would come in handy for those who didn’t grow up around my grand­moth­er, Jesse, or me.

And speak­ing of handy, all fledg­ling chefs are advised to get a firm han­dle on knife tech­niques before pick­ing up a noto­ri­ous­ly slip­pery-fleshed fruit and cut­ting toward their own fin­gers! Such reck­less­ness would nev­er have passed muster with the edi­tors of the Bet­ty Crock­er New Boys and Girls Cook­book. The Times is liv­ing on the edge!

Some of the con­tent has a dopey wash-rinse-repeat vibe, abet­ted by an odd­ly fla­vor­less nar­ra­tive voice. (Not every­one has Thug Kitchen’s nar­ra­tive sparkle. I should be grate­ful for the per­son­al­i­ty shin­ing through oth­er Times videos, notably Bill Cunningham’s “On The Street.”)

I’ll eat those words should I ever need to shuck an oys­ter, anoth­er one of those culi­nary duties that had no place on my Mid­west­ern grandmother’s agen­da. Not to say that my kitchen abil­i­ties are limned by the culi­nary stan­dards of 1970s Indi­ana. I fling around fish sauce and coconuts with Siamese aban­don, but oys­ters always seem so damn daunt­ing. Could owe to ear­ly read­ings of Lewis Car­roll.

I don’t know what I was so afraid of. Appar­ent­ly all it takes is 30 sec­onds and a dish­tow­el. (And an oys­ter knife, but we’ve got draw­er­fuls of those, the trick­le down effect of my husband’s Cape Cod boy­hood.)

Ulti­mate­ly, it’s sol­id stuff, but though with apolo­gies to our veg­e­tar­i­an read­ers, there’s more than one way to skin a cat. You can poach eggs a la the Times, or do it my way by adding a table­spoon of vine­gar to the poach­ing water. No fussy pre-poach. Boom! Done!

Sim­i­lar­ly stem­ming greens. My way, gleaned, not from my gran, but a hand­writ­ten, illus­trat­ed zine ear­li­er this mil­len­ni­um, doesn’t even require a knife! Hold that kale stem side up, using your oth­er hand as an ersatz prong, tear­ing the leaf from stem to stern.

Good heav­ens. Is that where that expres­sion came from? Per­haps some­one at the Times would know…. See all 53 of their cook­ing tech­nique videos here.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

How Cook­ing Can Change Your Life: A Short Ani­mat­ed Film Fea­tur­ing the Wis­dom of Michael Pol­lan

Sci­ence & Cook­ing: Harvard’s Free Course on Mak­ing Cakes, Pael­la & Oth­er Deli­cious Food

MIT Teach­es You How to Speak Ital­ian & Cook Ital­ian Food All at Once (Free Online Course)

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, home­school­er, for­mer food blog­ger and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday

Pablo Picasso’s Two Favorite Recipes: Eel Stew & Omelette Tortilla Niçoise

picasso stew

Back in 1964, Pablo Picas­so shared with Vogue’s food colum­nist Ninette Lyon two of his favorite recipes — one for Eel Stew, the oth­er for Omelette Tor­tilla Niçoise. If you live in the South of France, as Picas­so did, the recipes prob­a­bly won’t be entire­ly for­eign to you. But if you aren’t so lucky, you might want to add these recipes, now reprint­ed by Vogue, to your culi­nary buck­et list.

Below, we’ve high­light­ed the ingre­di­ents for the recipes. But, for step-by-step direc­tions on how to pre­pare the dish­es, head over to Vogue itself.

For more recipes from cul­tur­al icons — Hem­ing­way, Tol­stoy, Alice B. Tok­las, Jane Austen, David Lynch, Miles Davis, etc. — head to the bot­tom of this page.

Eel Stew for Four Peo­ple

6 table­spoons olive oil
6 table­spoons but­ter
12 small white onions
1 tea­spoon sug­ar
2 yel­low onions, chopped
12 mush­rooms
â…“ pound salt pork, cubed
2 shal­lots, minced
2 cloves gar­lic, minced
2 eels of about 1 pound each, cut into four- to five-inch sec­tions
1 bot­tle of good red wine
1 table­spoon flour
Salt, pep­per, cayenne pep­per
Bou­quet gar­ni: thyme, bay leaf, pars­ley, fen­nel, and a small branch of cel­ery

Omelette Tor­tilla Niçoise for Four Peo­ple
6 table­spoons olive oil
1 large onion
4 pep­pers, red and green
3 toma­toes
2 table­spoons wine vine­gar
8 eggs
Salt and pep­per

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Ernest Hemingway’s Favorite Ham­burg­er Recipe

Leo Tolstoy’s Fam­i­ly Recipe for Mac­a­roni and Cheese

David Lynch Teach­es You to Cook His Quinoa Recipe in a Weird, Sur­re­al­ist Video

Thomas Jefferson’s Hand­writ­ten Vanil­la Ice Cream Recipe

Alice B. Tok­las Reads Her Famous Recipe for Hashish Fudge (1963)

Mar­i­lyn Monroe’s Hand­writ­ten Turkey-and-Stuff­ing Recipe

Read Film­mak­er Luis Buñuel’s Recipe for the Per­fect Dry Mar­ti­ni, and Then See Him Make One

Miles Davis’ “South Side Chica­go Chili Mack” Recipe Revealed

The Recipes of Icon­ic Authors: Jane Austen, Sylvia Plath, Roald Dahl, the Mar­quis de Sade & More

2nd Graders Eat at Fancy French Restaurant, Daniel; Acclaimed Director Captures Their Reactions

For its fall Food issue, The New York Times mag­a­zine took six sec­ond graders from Brook­lyn to din­ner at Daniel, the fan­cy French restau­rant locat­ed on the Upper East Side of Man­hat­tan. There, the kids each enjoyed a $220, sev­en-course tast­ing menu, which includ­ed Maine Lob­ster Sal­ad, Squash Ravi­o­li with Pork Bel­ly, Smoked Papri­ka Cured Hamachi, Crispy Japan­ese Snap­per, and Wagyu Beef Rib-Eye. Jef­frey Blitz fit­ting­ly cap­tured the kids’ reac­tions. He’s the direc­tor of the Oscar-nom­i­nat­ed doc­u­men­tary Spell­bound, which fol­lowed eight teenagers on their quest to win the 1999 Nation­al Spelling Bee. These young kids have style, and cer­tain­ly not the most finicky taste I’ve ever seen.

Fol­low us on Face­bookTwit­ter and Google Plus and share intel­li­gent media with your friends. Or bet­ter yet, sign up for our dai­ly email and get a dai­ly dose of Open Cul­ture in your inbox.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Food­ie Alert: New York Pub­lic Library Presents an Archive of 17,000 Restau­rant Menus (1851–2008)

The Right and Wrong Way to Eat Sushi: A Primer

What Pris­on­ers Ate at Alca­traz in 1946: A Vin­tage Prison Menu

Michelangelo’s Hand­writ­ten 16th-Cen­tu­ry Gro­cery List

by | Permalink | Make a Comment ( 1 ) |

Ben Franklin’s List of 200 Synonyms for “Drunk”: “Moon-Ey’d,” “Hammerish,” “Stew’d” & More (1737)

Benjamin-Franklin1

How many Amer­i­cans could, off the top of their heads, tell you exact­ly why his­to­ry remem­bers Ben­jamin Franklin? Not many, I sus­pect, though we all know that he did a great deal worth remem­ber­ing, even by the stan­dards of a Found­ing Father. (Some­thing got him on the $100 bill, after all.) Of course, only his biog­ra­phers could remem­ber the every accom­plish­ment of this “First Amer­i­can,” from help­ing unite the colonies, to pub­lish­ing news­pa­pers, to serv­ing as Ambas­sador to France, to putting US nation­al secu­ri­ty at risk, to co-found­ing the Uni­ver­si­ty of Penn­syl­va­nia, to invent­ing bifo­cals and every­thing in between. Most Amer­i­cans can, I sus­pect, sum­mon to mind the image of Franklin fly­ing a kite with a key on it as well.

It also turns out that Franklin could indulge in a vice as hearti­ly as he could a virtue; the man who wrote Poor Richard’s Almanack knew how to have a good time. In 18th-cen­tu­ry Amer­i­ca, this seems often as not to have meant to know how to drink — and, in Franklin’s case, also to know how to iden­ti­fy the drunk. His rep­u­ta­tion as a bon vivant and a man of let­ters con­verged in a Jan­u­ary 13, 1737 edi­tion of the Penn­syl­va­nia Gazette, where­in he pub­lished this “Drinkers Dic­tio­nary” con­sist­ing of 200 syn­onyms for wast­ed, blot­to, half in the bag, three sheets to the wind, and oth­ers that would emerge over the fol­low­ing cen­turies. See them all below.

A
He is Addled,
He’s cast­ing up his Accounts,
He’s Afflict­ed,
He’s in his Airs.

B
He’s Big­gy,
Bewitch’d,
Block and Block,
Boozy,
Bowz’d,
Been at Bar­ba­does,
Pis­s’d in the Brook,
Drunk as a Wheel-Bar­row,
Bur­dock­’d,
Buskey,
Buzzey,
Has Stole a Manchet out of the Brew­er’s Bas­ket,
His Head is full of Bees,
Has been in the Bib­bing Plot,
Has drank more than he has bled,
He’s Bungey,
As Drunk as a Beg­gar,
He sees the Bears,
He’s kiss’d black Bet­ty,
He’s had a Thump over the Head with Samp­son’s Jaw­bone,
He’s Bridgey.

C
He’s Cat,
Cagrin’d,
Capa­ble,
Cram­p’d,
Cheru­bim­i­cal,
Cher­ry Mer­ry,
Wamble Crop’d,
Crack­’d,
Con­cern’d,
Half Way to Con­cord,
Has tak­en a Chirrip­ing-Glass,
Got Corns in his Head,
A Cup to much,
Coguy,
Copey,
He’s heat his Cop­per,
He’s Cro­cus,
Catch’d,
He cuts his Capers,
He’s been in the Cel­lar,
He’s in his Cups,
Non Com­pos,
Cock­’d,
Curv’d,
Cut,
Chip­per,
Chick­ery,
Loaded his Cart,
He’s been too free with the Crea­ture,
Sir Richard has tak­en off his Con­sid­er­ing Cap,
He’s Chap-fall­en,

D
He’s Dis­guiz’d,
He’s got a Dish,
Kil­l’d his Dog,
Took his Drops,
It is a Dark Day with him,
He’s a Dead Man,
Has Dip­p’d his Bill,
He’s Dag­g’d,
He’s seen the Dev­il,

E
He’s Prince Eugene,
Enter’d,
Wet both Eyes,
Cock Ey’d,
Got the Pole Evil,
Got a brass Eye,
Made an Exam­ple,
He’s Eat a Toad & half for Break­fast.
In his Ele­ment,

F
He’s Fishey,
Fox’d,
Fud­dled,
Sore Foot­ed,
Frozen,
Well in for’t,
Owes no Man a Far­thing,
Fears no Man,
Crump Foot­ed,
Been to France,
Flush’d,
Froze his Mouth,
Fet­ter’d,
Been to a Funer­al,
His Flag is out,
Fuzl’d,
Spoke with his Friend,
Been at an Indi­an Feast.

G
He’s Glad,
Groat­able,
Gold-head­ed,
Glaiz’d,
Gen­er­ous,
Booz’d the Gage,
As Dizzy as a Goose,
Been before George,
Got the Gout,
Had a Kick in the Guts,
Been with Sir John Goa,
Been at Gene­va,
Glob­u­lar,
Got the Glan­ders.

H
Half and Half,
Hardy,
Top Heavy,
Got by the Head,
Hid­dey,
Got on his lit­tle Hat,
Ham­mer­ish,
Loose in the Hilts,
Knows not the way Home,
Got the Horn­son,
Haunt­ed with Evil Spir­its,
Has Tak­en Hip­pocrates grand Elixir,

I
He’s Intox­i­cat­ed,
Jol­ly,
Jag­g’d,
Jam­bled,
Going to Jerusalem,
Joc­u­lar,
Been to Jeri­co,
Juicy.

K
He’s a King,
Clips the King’s Eng­lish,
Seen the French King,
The King is his Cousin,
Got Kib’d Heels,
Knapt,
Het his Ket­tle.

L
He’s in Liquor,
Lord­ly,
He makes Inden­tures with his Leg­gs,
Well to Live,
Light,
Lap­py,
Lim­ber,

M
He sees two Moons,
Mer­ry,
Mid­dling,
Moon-Ey’d,
Mud­dled,
Seen a Flock of Moons,
Maudlin,
Moun­tous,
Mud­dy,
Rais’d his Mon­u­ments,
Mel­low,

N
He’s eat the Cocoa Nut,
Nimp­top­si­cal,
Got the Night Mare,

O
He’s Oil’d,
Eat Opi­um,
Smelt of an Onion,
Oxy­cro­ci­um,
Over­set,

P
He drank till he gave up his Half-Pen­ny,
Pid­geon Ey’d,
Pungey,
Prid­dy,
As good con­di­tioned as a Pup­py,
Has scalt his Head Pan,
Been among the Philistines,
In his Pros­per­i­ty,
He’s been among the Philip­pi­ans,
He’s con­tend­ing with Pharaoh,
Wast­ed his Paunch,
He’s Polite,
Eat a Pud­ding Bagg,

Q
He’s Quar­rel­some,

R
He’s Rocky,
Rad­dled,
Rich,
Reli­gious,
Lost his Rud­der,
Ragged,
Rais’d,
Been too free with Sir Richard,
Like a Rat in Trou­ble.

S
He’s Stitch’d,
Sea­far­ing,
In the Sud­ds,
Strong,
Been in the Sun,
As Drunk as David’s Sow,
Swampt,
His Skin is full,
He’s Steady,
He’s Stiff,
He’s burnt his Shoul­der,
He’s got his Top Gal­lant Sails out,
Seen the yel­low Star,
As Stiff as a Ring-bolt,
Half Seas over,
His Shoe pinch­es him,
Stag­ger­ish,
It is Star-light with him,
He car­ries too much Sail,
Stew’d
Stub­b’d,
Soak’d,
Soft,
Been too free with Sir John Straw­ber­ry,
He’s right before the Wind with all his Stud­ding Sails out,
Has Sold his Sens­es.

T
He’s Top’d,
Tongue-ty’d,
Tan­n’d,
Tip­i­um Grove,
Dou­ble Tongu’d,
Top­sy Tur­vey,
Tipsey,
Has Swal­low’d a Tav­ern Token,
He’s Thaw’d,
He’s in a Trance,
He’s Tram­mel’d,

V
He makes Vir­ginia Fence,
Valiant,
Got the Indi­an Vapours,

W
The Malt is above the Water,
He’s Wise,
He’s Wet,
He’s been to the Salt Water,
He’s Water-soak­en,
He’s very Weary,
Out of the Way.

Franklin’s glos­sary also appears in Lists of Note, the brand new, high­ly rec­om­mend­ed book from Let­ters of Note’s Shaun Ush­er. Wher­ev­er you con­sult it, bear in mind Franklin’s intro­duc­to­ry note that all these terms come “gath­er’d whol­ly from the mod­ern Tav­ern-Con­ver­sa­tion of Tiplers. [ … ] I was tempt­ed to add a new one my self under the Let­ter B, to wit, Bru­ti­fy’d: But upon Con­sid­er­a­tion, I fear’d being guilty of Injus­tice to the Brute Cre­ation, if I rep­re­sent­ed Drunk­en­ness as a beast­ly Vice, since, ’tis well-known, that the Brutes are in gen­er­al a very sober sort of Peo­ple.” Which brings to mind a few bet­ter-known words attrib­uted to the man: “Beer is proof that god loves us and wants us to be hap­py.” He actu­al­ly said it about wine, but either way, let’s give Franklin cred­it: he was Wise — in mod­er­a­tion, of course.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Declas­si­fied CIA Doc­u­ment Reveals That Ben Franklin (and His Big Ego) Put U.S. Nation­al Secu­ri­ty at Risk

Drunk His­to­ry: An Intox­i­cat­ed Look at the Famous Alexan­der Hamil­ton – Aaron Burr Duel

Drunk Shake­speare: The Trendy Way to Stage the Bard’s Plays in the US & the UK

Col­in Mar­shall hosts and pro­duces Note­book on Cities and Cul­ture and writes essays on cities, lan­guage, Asia, and men’s style. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­les, A Los Ange­les Primer. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

How to Sing Julia Child’s Mastering the Art of French Cooking

Though she had no ten­der feel­ings for Julie Powell’s Julia/Julie blog, I like to think Julia Child wouldn’t have been entire­ly dis­pleased by the Bush­wick Book Club’s efforts to musi­cal­ize Mas­ter­ing the Art of French Cook­ing, Child’s two vol­ume labor of love (and the inspi­ra­tion for Powell’s cel­e­brat­ed blog).

The “club,” a free float­ing, dis­cus­sion-free group of New York City-based singer-song­writ­ers, start­ed in 2009, when Kurt Vonnegut’s Break­fast of Cham­pi­ons was cel­e­brat­ed with music and the­mat­ic drink spe­cials. In the ensu­ing half-decade, they’ve met month­ly to wres­tle with such titles as The Great Gats­by, Madame Bovary and Dol­ly Parton’s auto­bi­og­ra­phy.

Some con­tri­bu­tions to these events do feel half-baked, as if the per­former delayed start­ing work in case he or she might be able to fin­ish the book on the bus ride to the show. Oth­ers are well craft­ed, as well as insight­ful.

Leslie Graves’ musi­cal recita­tion of Child’s “Flam­ing Tart” is the sort of naughty fun Bessie Smith want­ed in her bowl:

And just before enter­ing 

Put a warm liqueur 

Over the hot caramelized sur­face…

Not, pre­sum­ably, what Child had in mind when she wrote those words, although the hap­pi­ness of her mar­riage is well doc­u­ment­ed. (“If we could just have the kitchen and the bed­room, that would be all we need.”)

The link between stom­ach and heart under­scores Hilary Downes’ bossa nova-inflect­ed “Mas­ters of the Table” and Shan­non Pelcher’s gen­tle “Eat­ing” which looks past Child’s tow­er­ing culi­nary achieve­ment to her yearn­ing TV audi­ence.

I did hear a sound mid­way between an egg beat­er and some­one spin­ning beneath her Bon Appetit-engraved tomb­stone when club founder Susan Hwang slipped the phrase “walk­ing corpses” into Child’s “List of Equip­ment.” But she bal­anced the scales with a sin­cere com­pli­ment to the all-too-rare sound of Child’s unmis­tak­able voice.

(This made me so nos­tal­gic, I had to rus­tle up Dan Aykroyd’s taste­less but clas­sic imper­son­ation from 1978…)

Stuff your­self on the entire evening’s songs using the link at the top of this page.

Or, should you crave a dif­fer­ent sort of fare, join the Bush­wick Book Club on the Fry­ing Pan Octo­ber 29, when they con­sid­er The Shin­ing by Stephen King.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Julia Child Shows How to Edit Video­tape with a Meat Cleaver, and Cook Meat with a Blow Torch

Remem­ber­ing Julia Child on Her 100th Birth­day with Her Clas­sic Appear­ance on the Let­ter­man Show

How Cook­ing Can Change Your Life: A Short Ani­mat­ed Film Fea­tur­ing the Wis­dom of Michael Pol­lan

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author whose Zinester’s Guide to NYC inspired a pret­ty great song of its own. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday

1797 Temperance Thermometer Measures the Moral & Physical Impact of Your Drinking Habits

temperance2

Ques­tion for the drinkers out there:

Does strong beer tak­en in mod­er­ate quan­ti­ties at meal­times make you cheer­ful?

Yeah, me too!

That gives us a tem­per­a­ture of 10 accord­ing to 18th-cen­tu­ry physi­cian John Coak­ley Lett­som’s “moral and phys­i­cal ther­mome­ter,” one of his Hints Designed to Pro­mote Benef­i­cence, Tem­per­ance, and Med­ical Sci­ence (1797).

It’s noth­ing to be ashamed of—anything above zero con­sti­tutes a pass­ing score. The founder of the Med­ical Soci­ety of Lon­don, Lett­som was a pro­po­nent of true tem­per­ance, not total absti­nence. Accord­ing to his rubric, a “small beer” has all the virtues of milk and water.

Dip below a zero, though, and you’re in for a bumpy night.

Punch is appar­ent­ly the gate­way to such demon influ­ences as flip, shrub, whiskey and rum. Gosh. You may as well just skip the punch and go straight for the hard stuff, if, as in Lettsom’s view, they all end in the same vices and dis­eases.

Puk­ing and Tremors of the Hands in the Morn­ing?

Yes, on occa­sion.

Peev­ish­ness, Idle­ness, and Obscen­i­ty?

Yep, that too.

Mur­der, Mad­ness, and Death?

Mer­ci­ful­ly, no. At least not yet.

While not entire­ly free of stig­ma, alco­holism is now some­thing many view through the lens of AA, a prob­lem best reme­died through a sys­tem of per­son­al account­abil­i­ty shored up by a net­work of non­judg­men­tal, sym­pa­thet­ic sup­port.

Back in Lettsom’s day, when an alco­holic hit rock bot­tom, it was assumed he or she would stay there, a task made eas­i­er when the wages of this par­tic­u­lar sin includ­ed the poor house, a one way tick­et to the Botany Bay penal colony, and the gal­lows.

Such loom­ing con­se­quences are eas­i­ly laughed off when you’ve had a snoot, which may be why Lett­som also pub­lished the illus­trat­ed ver­sion of his ther­mome­ter below. A pic­ture is worth a thou­sand words, par­tic­u­lar­ly when depict­ing the pre-Dick­en­sian mis­ery that awaits the drunk­ard and his fam­i­ly.

Termometro morall

via Rebec­ca Onion and Slate

Relat­ed Con­tent:

George Washington’s 110 Rules for Civil­i­ty and Decent Behav­ior

Thomas Jefferson’s Hand­writ­ten Vanil­la Ice Cream Recipe

“The Vertue of the COFFEE Drink”: An Ad for London’s First Cafe Print­ed Cir­ca 1652

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, home­school­er, and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday

« Go BackMore in this category... »
Quantcast