Although Next to Normal, the current offering at Round House, has an excellent pedigree (it’s won many theater awards, including multiple Tonys and the Pulitzer Prize for Drama), I had trouble at first with the concept of a musical about the main character’s struggle with mental illness.
And I was partially right – it’s not a “feel-good” musical – although at the risk of spoilers, the ending is hopeful. You won’t leave the theater feeling depressed.
The staging, production, acting, and especially the strong singing by all cast members work together to recreate the effect of a disordered psyche as Diana (Tracy Lynn Olivera), her sympathetic husband (Kevin S. McAllister) and teenage daughter (Sophia Early) try to grapple with the central tragic event of Diana’s life while struggling with her bipolar disorder. And, yes, it’s sung through. (Les Mis has a lot to answer for.) But in this case, the singing only serves as one element in the cosmos of disorientation that this production seeks to recreate.
The cast of Next to Normal at Round House Theatre. Photo by Margot Schulman Photography.
The songs (music by Tom Kitt, lyrics by Brian Yorkey) are enjoyable without being too profound. The lyrics are clever: Diana sings about her pharmacologist (Calvin McCullouch), “He knows my deepest secrets; I know his name.”
There are projections and neon lighting effects, sliding doors to portholes in the wall, and a walking, talking, singing apparition (Lucas Hinds Babcock) which we learn is a manifestation of Diana’s illness. The (excellent) live band is visible through a glass wall, which the cast on occasion breaks.
When Diana doesn’t respond well to the many variations of drug cocktails, she becomes a candidate for electro-convulsive therapy. This results in a new set of problems. Ultimately, she realizes that the only way she can break the cycle of failed treatment without improvement is a clean break from her present life. Away from her long-suffering family, perhaps she can start afresh.
The Round House’s Fourth Wall Bar and Café, in a departure from their previous custom, has not designed a menu tailored to the play, but only customized the cocktails for this production. They run from “Fake Confidence” to “Dr. Fine’s Spritz.” I tried “Robo-tripping,” a rather sweet and very floral concoction of gin, crème de violette, and elderflower. A “dirty martini pasta salad” held the hunger pangs at bay until after the production. It was both tasty and abundant.
Food and Drink at the Fourth Wall
Next to Normal runs through March 3 at Round House Theatre.
Wow. So much going on this month, and so much of it red!
The East Is Red
First, Lunar New Year. Knowing my predilection for Guinness, the nice folks at Taylor Strategies sent me a special edition made just for the Year of the Dragon. Not stout, alas, but ale flavored with dragon fruit powder and orange puree. They call it “Luck of the Dragon,” and the can is a work of art in itself, resplendent in red and gold.
It’s a Party in a Box!
The added fruit reminded me of shandy, my favorite thing to do with beer besides drink straight stout, so I was game to try it. And it’s, yes, red! But not terribly so. And it drinks very pleasantly, with a light flavor and only a hint of hops.
And the Beer is Very Pretty
It’s available at the Guinness Open Gate Brewery through February.
Hearts and Heartbreak
And then there’s that holiday on the 14th. Harris Teeter did its big, over-the-top decorating job again this year, with flowers, candy, and heart-shaped everything edible, including cookies, cupcakes, chocolate-dipped strawberries, and something I just couldn’t resist: cheesecake. Several varieties. I caved and got the strawberry chocolate one, with sprinkles. I could have gotten the one with a big icing rose, but I drew the line at that.
So Much Merch!
Cookies
Cupcakes, Some Creepy-Looking
OMG! Cheesecake!
They Pieced My Resistance
The cheesecake was delicious! I even looked for another when I went back on the 15th, hoping for maybe a half-price bargain? But alas, none were to be found. I could have picked a consolation prize, though, from the many carts of candy boxes arrayed at the entrance.
Sad Day-After-Valentines Day
I recognize the risk of repeating my article about post-Christmas sales, so I’ll limit the pictures to two – but the next one features a mind-blower: from the lower deck of the right-hand cart, one could purchase Lunchables in heart-shaped boxes.
Lunchables with Chocolate for Dessert
The perfect Valentine for the person allergic to chocolate. Include a sympathy card.
Red and Black Birds
Speaking of heartbreak, the day after the final Super Bowl playoffs, these cupcakes were also half-price.
Raven-ous for Cupcakes
With the yellow and purple icing, they could double for Mardi Gras. Just replace the footballs and helmets with green glitter.
Speaking of birds, I looked out my front window the other day and found a slightly scary sight.
Like They Owned the Place
Black vultures tearing apart the corpse of an unfortunate raccoon, several of them disporting on my front porch. I should be grateful to them, since it could be next February before the state highway administration would get around to cleaning it up. I speak from experience. (BTW, the term of venery for vultures eating is a “wake.” This differs from vultures flying (a “kettle”) and perched (a “committee”).
It fits the February theme – red in beak and claw!
Just a little late for the Holiday Season, but not too late for the Post-Holiday Leftovers Season (which I hereby declare is the entire month of January), here is another edition of my continuing occasional series of things that trigger my sense of the absurd.
Get This Stuff Out Of My Store
Walking into Harris Teeter the day after Christmas, shoppers had to dodge around the many shopping carts full of Christmas leftovers “at least 50% off!” I don’t remember seeing quite so much forlorn merch in previous years. Among the chocolate and candy canes (many many candy canes, some in bizarre flavors), a few anomalies could be seen. A Barbie Monopoly game! Another movie tie-in! An inflatable garden gnome in a Santa hat. And in the spirit of ecumenism, a lone dreidel full of jelly beans, almost submerged in the Christmas-themed calories.
Many Carts Full of Leftovers
Merch Includes Monopoly Barbie
The Gnome Looks Embarrassed
The Lone Dreidel (Purple Splotch, Lower Right)
Ah! My Penguin!
During one of my favorite activities, browsing the offerings at a church bazaar, I noticed a collection of salt and pepper shakers among the knick-knacks. There among them appeared a candidate for augmenting my small but choice collection of penguins:
Cute Little Guy, Right?
As I picked it up, it occurred to me to wonder why there was a piece of masking tape on its head. The answer came immediately – it was there to keep body and head together.
Aughhh!
You have to admire the efficiency of the design while shuddering at the gruesomeness of seasoning your food with penguin body parts.
And in that spirit I give you:
The Nightmare After Christmas
Still there on January 9, down the road from me, 12-foot-tall Jack Skellington. Dressing your giant Hallowe’en skeleton as Santa Claus is so last year! The bulbs light up at night, of course they do.
There’s a hell of a lot of drinking going on at the Round House. The holiday season furnishes a reason to get smashed for the characters of The Seafarer. They don’t eat much, but they are constantly offered mince pies and smoked salmon by their host (which never materialize). Made me hungry, but these Irishmen seem to exist solely on beer and whiskey!
Four comrades meet for a poker party one Christmas Eve night, with a stranger invited to make up the number for five-card draw. “Sharky” Harkin (Chris Genebach), his blind brother Richard (Marty Lodge), and their friends Ivan (Michael Glenn) and Nicky (Maboud Ebrahimzadeh) all have various reasons for staying sodden, though Sharky has recently undertaken to refrain from drinking – he’s made good on it for several days now. Will he manage to overcome the events of the evening and find strength for the triumph of the human spirit over adversity?
For adversity comes for him, in the shape of Mr. Lockhart (Marcus Kyd), a sharpie in a bespoke suit who is more than just a poker fifth. It seems that many years ago, Sharky was helped out of a spot of trouble with the understanding that there would be a reckoning later, and Mr. Lockhart has come to collect. The fate of Sharky’s eternal soul hangs on the outcome of this poker game.
Like Conor McPherson’s breakout hit, The Weir, a tight ensemble of actors holds our attention with human interactions (although effort must be taken to pierce the thick Irish accents, it’s worth it), until the uncanny intrudes just before intermission. The “son of the morning star” adds that frisson of upleveling that The Weir provided with a ghost story, and the suspense of Sharky’s fate keeps us absorbed while the characters absorb the sauce.
We arrived early at the Round House to take advantage of their café menu inspired by The Seafarer. In addition to cocktails named the likes of “Cab Fare” and “Irish Hot Hello,” the offerings did indeed include a Smoked Salmon Dip (alas, no mince pies), and our selection, Dublin Coddle Stew. The stew includes pork rib, potatoes, green onion, and a crunchy element (fried onions?), and was very tasty. We also appreciated the playlist for the ambient music; a fine selection of traditional favorites including numbers by the Pogues, the Cranberries, Flogging Molly, and Great Big Sea.
Coddle Stew and Ginger Ale, Too
All told, a fine Irish evening. The Seafarer runs until December 31 at Round House Theatre.
‘Tis the season for all sorts of special holiday versions of old favorite brands. And so, the merry elves at Taylor Strategy have sent along a Limited Edition of Smirnoff vodka to sample.
They call it “Red, White and Merry: Orange, Cranberry and Ginger,” and while I generally try to avoid products that seem like they’re trying too hard, they had me at “ginger.” Also, I have fond memories of a visit to Krakow, Poland a few years ago, where many restaurants boast of their infused vodkas.
The unboxing was an adventure in itself – so much packing material, resembling the frozen precipitation we may or may not ever see this winter – and the bottle all sparkly and red. How festive!
Red, White and Not-Snow
We took cautious sips of the stuff neat. It has an assertive, almost too-sweet smell that gave us initial misgivings, and alcoholic strength (30%) to match. Drinking it neat would not be my first choice, but the messaging from Taylor indicated that they expect it to be used with mixers, so we got down to mixing.
First we tried a splash of RW&M in a glass of apple cider, with a twist of lime. Yes, very pleasant and eminently drinkable. This also works with orange juice, and gives the drink a nice rosy glow. (did I mention RW&M is a deep, cranberry red?)
With Cider
Then we tried one of the Taylor suggestions: RW&M with lime juice and club soda (we used lime-flavored sparkling water), with a garnish of fresh rosemary and 2 whole cranberries. The rosemary pulled WAY above its weight to provide an extra dimension of aroma. Highly recommended. (Don’t eat the raw cranberries.)
Penguin-Approved
Finally, we tried RW&M with one of my favorite mixers: ginger beer (remember “…they had me at ginger?) We garnished these with candied ginger and more lime. A masterpiece!
Moose on Ice
Red, White and Merry will put you in a fine holiday mood, if you aren’t already – and, if not, why not? It’s been the season for a while now!
Since it’s a well-known fact that Shakespeare adapted the plots of existing plays for his own masterworks, no shade should be cast on Fat Ham’s playwright James Ijames for lifting the plot and major characters from Hamlet. What he builds on this scaffolding is all his own, totally enjoyable, and even a little profound.
I hope it won’t be giving away too much to report that at the end of Fat Ham, the stage is not littered with bodies. Although this particular line is not among the occasional quotations from the original, the ending brought it to mind: “Those that are married already – all but one – shall live. The rest shall keep as they are.” And to emphasize the alternative to bloody slaughter, where some productions have a danse macabre (which I witnessed a few years ago at London’s Globe), the play ends with a joyous, life-affirming celebration.
There’s Hamlet (Juicy, played by Marquis D. Gibson), all in black and suitably depressed; a manic Horatio (Tio, Thomas Walker Booker); a bullying Ghost (Pap), doubled by Greg Alvarez Reid as Rev (Claudius); and Gertrude (Tedra, Tanesha Gary). Rounding out the cast: a gender-reversed Polonius (Rabby, Kelli Blackwell); her daughter, Ophelia (Opal, Gaelyn D. Smith), and son, Laertes (Larry, Matthew Elijah Webb).
So much for the cast and situation: the occasion is a backyard barbeque to celebrate the wedding of Tedra and Rev after the death of her first husband, Pap, in prison. And yes, Pap and Rev were brothers, and yes, it is revealed that Rev had Pap killed. A scene that echoes the one when Hamlet confronts Gertrude in her bedroom reveals all the false confidence and angst of an aging beauty grasping at security. We are privy to several soliloquies revealing Juicy’s thoughts throughout the play. The Ghost appears with effects that left me wishing that there was a special award for costume lighting (and the lighting throughout the play is to be marveled at).
Greg Alverez Reid, Marquis D. Gibson, and a Prop that Looks Remarkably Iconic
Opal, whose antagonist is the dress her mother made her wear, is not nearly so fragile as her namesake; indeed, she’s sulky about being under the thumb of domineering Rabby. Those combat boots she’s wearing, though, hint at a strength of character waiting to reveal itself. Unfortunately, she’s mostly used as a sounding board for Juicy. Her fate is unexplored.
A thread of cooking and eating runs through Fat Ham. Pap had owned a barbeque restaurant, and a smoker has pride of place on the porch. One clever bit of dialog recalls the original play: as Rev brags about his touch with grilled meat, he declares, “It’s in the rub.” “Ay,” replies Juicy, “there’s the rub!” During times of strong emotion throughout the play, the way of showing love is often, “Let me fix you a plate.”
Gaelyn D. Smith, Matthew Elijah Webb, Greg Alverez Reid, Marquis D. Gibson (Brooding), Tanesha Gary, Kelli Blackwell, and the Grill.
Tio scores some weed. As he and Juicy sit together, Tio prattles forth a high soliloquy of his own, centering sweets as metaphor – culminating in a “gingerbread man blow job.” There’s an image for the ages!
And then Rev chokes to death. A highly appropriate end to a villain – and the beginning of the liberation of Tedra, Juicy, and especially Larry, who is now free to break out from his repressed persona into a joyous being, represented by another fabulous costume, to end the play.
Fat Ham is playing at Studio Theatre through December 23, 2023.
Les Dames D’Escoffier held an all-day symposium recently for the first time since the pandemic. One of the workshops focused on Japanese fermentation; specifically, the complex relationships among sake, soy sauce, and koji. There were three styles of sake to taste, and a chance to make our own koji infusion. Remembering how intrigued I was with the koji demonstration at the Sakura Matsuri, I signed up for that workshop.
Although far less familiar in the West, koji has been the foundation of Japanese cuisine for centuries. It’s rice (or another starch) inoculated with the fungus Aspergillus oryzae, and it’s the basic ingredient for soy sauce, sake, miso, rice vinegar and many other products. Now koji has become the trendy plaything of chefs all over the world.
In their book The Noma Guide to Fermentation, René Redzepi and David Zilber describe koji as “indistinguishable from magic.” Now, I admit this reference to Clarke’s Law made me perk right up, and I paid even closer attention to the workshop’s presentations about sake and soy sauce production. Then, we got to make our own koji – or at least, start the process going.
Workshop Sake Setup
Mixing Up The Koji Potion
Carla Hall Was Sitting At My Table!
We added salt, garlic, ginger, and water to the inoculated rice at each of our places. All we had to do after that was take them home, stir them every day for 10 days, and use the resulting ferment as we pleased. The workshop sponsor recommended coating chicken breasts and grilling them. My research resulted in several other possibilities.
I decided to marinate turkey thighs overnight, and then grill them. I used about two-thirds of the contents of my little jar for the marinade. The results were amazing, juicy and delicious, with a subtly altered taste and texture from any previous turkey I’ve had before. I can see using this technique for a Thanksgiving turkey breast and no worries about having it come out dry!
Marinating the Turkey
Ready To Grill
Turkey Plated
I used the remaining koji on a nice piece of white fish for my daughter and myself. I marinated the fish for only a few hours, but the results were still remarkably delicious. My daughter, who lived in Japan for several years, put it perfectly: “This fish tastes like Japan!”
Fish Marinated About Two Hours
Grilled Twenty Minutes, Ready to Eat
She recognized, and appreciated, the characteristic strain of umami the koji had imparted to the fish. There was a little fish left, so I ate it over avocado toast for lunch the next day. Cold, it continued to be just as delectable as freshly roasted.
Leftovers For Lunch
I’m going to be experimenting with this promising new technique for a while. Google tells me that koji-inoculated rice is available to order on the internet, and there is a Japanese grocery store in Rockville. Much umami ahead!
The success of a two-hander play depends on two things: the script (of course), but maybe even more, on the relationship between the two players. When they are of differing sexes, balancing that relationship can be weighted on the side of the masculine. In The Mountaintop, however, the opposite sex has a slight advantage: she’s literally heavenly.
In a set drenched in mid-century verisimilitude, we are immediately confronted with a depiction of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr (Ro Boddie) as so human as to have holes in his socks and stinky feet. The play is a fantasy reimagining of his last night on Earth, just before his assassination on the balcony of a shabby hotel room in Memphis. His room service order of coffee and cigarettes is fulfilled by a chambermaid (Renea S. Brown) who is his match in many ways.
Meeting Cute: Ro Boddie (Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.) and Renea S. Brown (Camae) in The Mountaintop at Round House Theatre. Photo by Margot Schulman Photography.
What starts out as friendly banter and moderate flirtation develops into philosophical discussion and inspired oratory – but not from the character you would expect! The audience and Dr. King begin to suspect that this chambermaid, Camae, is far more than she seems. And, indeed, she lives up to Dr. King’s accusation of being an “incognegro” by revealing that she is a divine messenger sent to accompany him to the great beyond the next day.
Is he ready to go? Of course not. He has things to do, speeches to give. How can he be sure the work will continue, the baton will be passed? The last minutes of the show transform that beige room into a fantastic sound and light show, with a spoken-word tour-de-force by Camae, herself outfitted in raiment befitting her celestial status.
And Did I Mention the Pillow Fight? Photo by Margot Schulman Photography.
Round House audiences last saw Ro Boddie in Radio Golf, and Renea S. Brown in Nollywood Dreams, both playing second leads. They shine brightly in The Mountaintop, showing off top-notch acting chops. There’s chemistry, both between them and with the audience. They make watching this play a real treat.
And segueing neatly into the treats available at the Fourth Wall Bar and Café, we find a list of cocktails cutely named with references to the play, such as “Lorraine Motel” and “Coffee and Cigarettes.” Unfortunately, there are very few food references in the play to tie the kitchen offerings to, but Corrie’s Egg Sandwich and Rendezvous Ribs give it their best shot. The ribs in particular sound good (“Memphis style pork ribs served with the best baked beans, pickles and white bread”). I can see coming early to a performance to indulge in a plate of ribs.
Lobby Display During Opening Night
Cast and Crew on Opening Night. Director Delicia Turner Sonnenberg, far left.
What do you think of when you think of Rupert Murdoch? A ruthless businessman who runs a billion-dollar world-wide publishing empire? But did you know he acquired a rundown newspaper in 1969 and turned it into the best-selling tabloid in Britain inside of a year?
Ink, at the Round House, is the story of that process, told with fast-paced plotting, dynamite acting and non-stop projections, which leave us breathless and marveling at the innovations Murdoch (Michael Glenn on the night I saw it) inspires in the staff of the Sun. At the same time, we follow the trajectory of his chief henchman, Larry Lamb (Cody Nickell), as he sheds his inhibitions to wage war against the handed-down traditions of Fleet Street and goes for the lowest moral denominator to sell papers: giveaways, titillation, sensationalism, giant font headlines and knickers in a tin.
The cast of Ink at Round House Theatre Co-produced with Olney Theatre Center
“Give the people what they really want!” is the motto embodied in the three elements that must appear on the front page every day: WIN, FREE, and LOVE. And ultimately, full female nudity on Page Three. What a tizzy that threw the public into! How many papers it sold!
We admire the drive and ingenuity while remembering what that eventually led to: a ruthless influence on the opinions of not just Britain, but the entire world. This play mightily tries to subvert the better angels of our nature as we admire the staff of the Sun’s David-and-Goliath battle against the entrenched papers on the Street.
And, in the course of the play, we are reminded of the ultimate cost of this kind of ruthlessness. Muriel, a staffer’s wife, is mistaken for Murdoch’s wife, kidnapped and held for ransom, but it goes horribly wrong, and her body is never found. “We think they fed her to the pigs.” Larry Lamb, already driven to the edge of civility in his drive to sell papers, falls over it. This is ultimately the story of his descent into moral turpitude. Murdoch, as we all know, sailed on to assail the information industry of America and the world. Today, at age 92, one wonders what he thinks of the play.
Even while confronting the dilemma of thoroughly enjoying a production which asks us to root for the accomplishment of an ultimately unsavory victory, I wholeheartedly recommend seeing Ink. It will delight and provoke you. And the café is featuring a few British-leaning dishes to complement the play. Not, unfortunately, the steak and lobster featured in one of the several dining scenes, but a simulacrum: oven-roasted sweet potatoes, beef stew, and bangers and mash. There is a hard cider selection for the hops-averse, and the cocktails are named “Establishment,” “Tabloid,” and “Page Three Girl.” Titillation indeed!
Cody Nickell as Larry Lamb and Andrew Rein as Rupert Murdoch
Ink is running through September 24th at the Round House Theatre, co-produced by Olney Theatre Center, written by James Graham, directed by Jason Loewith.
The National Book Festival seemed to have a smaller footprint this year than in the past, but that didn’t dissuade the throngs of book-lovers crowding into the Washington Convention Center. I went in search of the few food and cooking-related items on the agenda, and, of course, any other bookish good times there might be.
Sometimes, relevance is where you find it. Amor Towles, mainstream fiction writer, mentioned that among the comments he received from readers was a criticism of his novel’s description of dishwashing by an Award-Winning Member of the Future Homemakers of America. (“You wash the glassware first!”) Well, now I’m more determined than ever to read The Lincoln Highway.
Crosby Kemper, the director of the Institute of Museum and Library Services, and Amor Towles
Parade of States
I always enjoy wandering up and down the aisles of the “Roadmap to Reading” area. All the states, territories, and the District of Columbia have sent librarians armed with tchochkas, flyers, and their State Books (one each kids’ and adults’). Two of these books were about regional food. Georgia showed off Bress ‘n’ Nyam: Gullah Geechee Recipes from a Sixth-Generation Farmer by Matthew Raiford with Amy Paige Condon, while Connecticut’s table boasted not only the book but the author as well. Winsome Bingham lived up to her name as she described her children’s book, Soul Food Sunday.
The Georgia State Book is a Cookbook
Winsome is as Winsome Writes
There were some choice selfie traps. The National Endowment for the Humanities had set up life-size cutouts of famous dead authors to pose around, and even had a dedicated volunteer to assist in snapping whole families.
Posing with the Literary Greats
And who should I almost bump into but Dolly? Of course, she has a terrific book giveaway program (Dolly Parton’s Imagination Library). And did you know she has written a cookbook? Dolly’s Dixie Fixin’s: Love, Laughter and Lots of Good Food, in 2006. There should be more philanthropists like her.
Well, Hello, You-Know-Who
Random Food Observation
I should also mention that a relatively new addition to the food-for-purchase options at the Convention Center is an outpost of Ben’s Chili Bowl, complete with a mural of the original place on U Street.
Ben’s Branches Out
Incidental Food Agenda
Now, I’m sure that this was just an accident of scheduling, and not deliberate on either party’s part, but the Washington Post food writers’ discussion directly conflicted with the Library of Congress’ author presentation of American Feast: Cookbooks and Cocktails from the Library of Congress, by Zach Klitzman and Susan Reyburn, the newly-released survey of their amazingly comprehensive collection. Fortunately, those events were located very close together in the exhibit hall, and I managed to stay for most of the Post discussion before decamping to the LoC pavilion for the last few minutes of that talk. Afterwards, the authors graciously signed my book and posed for a picture.
Daniela Galarza and Ann Maloney
I appreciated the chance to meet the two Post writers, Ann Maloney and Daniela Galarza. They described how they reorganized the Post food lab, which I had last seen when Bonnie Benwick gave me a tour, back when the Post had just moved into their current building. Galarza has been hard at work on the newsletter, which generates a lively dialog with readers.
Here is some inside dope:
Newspaper food sections, like the fashion industry, have to work in advance of the seasons. As we endured 90-degree temperatures outside the convention center, they were developing recipes for Thanksgiving. And here’s a scoop – look for a recipe for mile-high apple pie in the coming weeks. Also, a Thanksgiving po’boy (to deal with leftovers).
All the photography in the Food section is authentic – shot with real food cooked from the recipe. The only fake props they use are ice cubes. After all, “We’re journalists!” And they seldom have leftovers – after the shoots are done, word goes out to staff on their internal Slack channel, and the food is gone within ten minutes.
Klitzman and Reyburn spoke to the changes in eating habits through time that American Feast illustrated through its pictures and descriptions of books and menus. They were taking questions from the audience when I snuck into the presentation. One questioner asked about the weirdest food they had encountered in their research? It has to be frosted ham from Fannie Farmer’s A New Book of Cookery (a sequel to her famous Boston Cooking School Cookbook). Yes, there it is on page 41, looking unsettlingly like a Shmoo.
On a more serious note, the recipe lists and cookbooks hand-written by prisoners in World War II describe dreams of meals to be eaten upon release from captivity. Sometimes they don’t represent real food, but idealized versions of dishes dreamed about by starving men.
Susan Reyburn and Zach Klitzman in Front of Another Selfie Trap
Because One Actual Festival Session Is Plenty for Food Books
I headed to the one official agenda session, in an actual meeting room, focused on food books. Do I sound a little nostalgic for the good old days when there was a whole track dedicated to food writing? That’s because I am. But I suppose I should be thankful for what I can get.
“Dig In: What Food Says About Us with Cheuk Kwan and Anya von Bremzen” was moderated by Daniela Galarza, from the Post. Kwan’s book, Have You Eaten Yet?, focuses on owners of and workers in Chinese restaurants outside of China, while Anya von Bremzen’s National Dish explores six national cuisines through examples of their iconic dishes.
Cheuk Kwan and Anya von Bremzen with Daniela Galarza
Kwan explored how Chinese food adapted to ingredients and cultural preferences in the many countries in which exiles from various cultural upheavals sought refuge. When food morphs from its original form due to the pressures it encounters, who’s to say what’s authentic? He’s discovered the best Chinese food is to be found as staff meals in restaurants of the diaspora.
When Kwan mentioned that he had his first taste of Hunan cuisine in New York City in the 1970’s, I felt a jolt of recognition. I wonder if we frequented the same restaurant at the same time?
Von Bremzen mentioned the breakup of the USSR, which inspired her to interrogate how national identities are constructed. What is considered authentic cuisine? Authenticity comes from your memory. Adapted dishes, like those of the Chinese diaspora, become part of new nation’s diets, and issues of “cultural appropriation” become moot. You can’t talk about food without politics. Russia and Ukraine both claim borsch as their own.
I wished I had the chance to share a meal with both these authors! Fortunately, I have the next best thing: a copy of each of their books. I will be reading them in the near future, and reviewing them here, along with American Feast. Stay tuned!
