A Delightful Dish James Beard Cooked for Himself When Dining Alone

Table for One is a column by Senior Editor Eric Kim, who loves cooking for himself—and only himself—and seeks to celebrate the beauty of solitude in its many forms.

“As a boy in Portland, James almost always ate by himself,” says John Birdsall, auth…

Table for One is a column by Senior Editor Eric Kim, who loves cooking for himself—and only himself—and seeks to celebrate the beauty of solitude in its many forms.


“As a boy in Portland, James almost always ate by himself,” says John Birdsall, author of the forthcoming The Man Who Ate Too Much, on American cook and food writer James Beard. Birdsall and I are both self-quarantined, in San Francisco and New York City respectively. I’ve just reached out to him because I’m writing about Beard’s asparagus, and I figured, as someone who’s just written the man’s biography, Birdsall might have something to say about it.

Read More >>

Homebound: In Isolation, I’m Plagued by Fear—but Not Loneliness

Home is a powerful place for all of us, and its presence feels particularly acute right now. But how do quarantine and isolation affect our perception of the space? Homebound: Dispatches on COVID-19 & How We Live asks this of three writers currentl…

Home is a powerful place for all of us, and its presence feels particularly acute right now. But how do quarantine and isolation affect our perception of the space? Homebound: Dispatches on COVID-19 & How We Live asks this of three writers currently negotiating this reality in different parts of the world—Hong Kong, Seattle, and Florence. We hope their explorations can help us better understand our changing sense of home.


Today is Mar. 16, 2020. I'm writing this from my kitchen, where I work as a cookbook author, food stylist, and photographer. I write recipes to provide readers with practical tools for their cooking, but most importantly, I’m interested in the emotional components of food: cooking as self-expression, therapy, as a way out of isolation—and ultimately, a way to connect with the world around us.

Read More >>

Homebound: I Self-Isolated for 6 Years. Now I’m Doing It Again.

Home is a powerful place for all of us, and its presence feels particularly acute right now. But how do quarantine and isolation affect our perception of the space? Homebound: Dispatches on COVID-19 & How We Live asks this of three writers currentl…

Home is a powerful place for all of us, and its presence feels particularly acute right now. But how do quarantine and isolation affect our perception of the space? Homebound: Dispatches on COVID-19 & How We Live asks this of three writers currently negotiating this reality in different parts of the world—Hong Kong, Seattle, and Florence. We hope their explorations can help us better understand our changing sense of home.


A March spring day is preciously brisk in Hong Kong. But I have no intention of going outside. With my morning coffee still hot to the touch, I’m standing in my kitchen amidst a mental confrontation with the raw chicken before me.

Read More >>

I’m a Chef—but Broccoli Spaghetti Was All My Family Wanted From Me

Good food is worth a thousand words—sometimes more. In My Family Recipe, a writer shares the story of a single dish that’s meaningful to them and their loved ones.

I hadn’t seen my family in four years. My parents live in a small town in Korea calle…

Good food is worth a thousand words—sometimes more. In My Family Recipe, a writer shares the story of a single dish that's meaningful to them and their loved ones.


I hadn’t seen my family in four years. My parents live in a small town in Korea called Pohang, known for its steel, and my brother in Seoul. And I've been in New York trying to make something of myself.

Read More >>

Why I Don’t Like French Fries

There are certain categories of opinion you keep to yourself. A friend reconciles with an ex whom you know is no good. Or you can’t stomach an episode of the television series (about tempestuous families and their imaginary kingdoms and dragons) that e…

There are certain categories of opinion you keep to yourself. A friend reconciles with an ex whom you know is no good. Or you can’t stomach an episode of the television series (about tempestuous families and their imaginary kingdoms and dragons) that everyone seems to adore.

It’s not just that the opinion is unpopular—which it might be. Or that you’re avoiding denouncing something innocent for the sake of controversy—which, considering the bigger picture these days, is pretty harmless anyway. It’s that you’d rather not destroy the ground you stand on to say something in the first place—so you keep it to yourself.

Read More >>

Nana’s Spaghetti Soup: Not Your Typical Italian Grandma Story

Good food is worth a thousand words—sometimes more. In My Family Recipe, writers share the stories of dishes that are meaningful to them and their loved ones.

“How’s your friend, that nice boy?” my grandma Clara asked. Read More >>

Good food is worth a thousand words—sometimes more. In My Family Recipe, writers share the stories of dishes that are meaningful to them and their loved ones.


“How’s your friend, that nice boy?” my grandma Clara asked.

Read More >>

Why I Ate Nothing but Soup for 54 Days

It took three years of living in New York for me to finally find a place that felt like home. When a friend of a friend posted on Facebook in the fall of 2012 that the apartment next door to him and his wife in Red Hook was opening up and came with a s…

It took three years of living in New York for me to finally find a place that felt like home. When a friend of a friend posted on Facebook in the fall of 2012 that the apartment next door to him and his wife in Red Hook was opening up and came with a shared backyard, I couldn't break the lease on my tiny windowless room in Williamsburg fast enough. Along with the yard came eight pet chickens, which meant I could run outside and in minutes would be biting into the vibrant orange yolks found only in eggs that fresh. My neighbors would make frozen egg custards in the summertime, filled with swirls of jams and crumbled homemade cookie bits.

After two years of living in that apartment, my neighbors split up and he moved out, leaving behind not only his wife but the chickens as well. She worked nights and wasn’t always home to lock up the coops before night fell, when the raccoons and possums of Brooklyn arose from their daytime slumber. It very quickly became a regular occurrence to hear the chickens’ awful, strangled screams in the middle of the night as they fell prey one by one.

Read More >>

Brighton Beach Sells This Salad by the Pound, but Mom Still Makes It From Scratch

Good food is worth a thousand words—sometimes more. In My Family Recipe, writers share the stories of dishes that are meaningful to them and their loved ones.

We’d gotten off the plane at JFK just a few hours prior. After a short drive in my uncle’s…

Good food is worth a thousand words—sometimes more. In My Family Recipe, writers share the stories of dishes that are meaningful to them and their loved ones.


We’d gotten off the plane at JFK just a few hours prior. After a short drive in my uncle’s Honda Civic, we arrived in South Brooklyn. The street was lined with brown-brick buildings, and my aunt pointed up at one of them.

Read More >>

I Don’t Celebrate Valentine’s Day, but This Lamb Dish Warms My Cynical Heart

My daughter Mimi was about 6 months old when I bought her an Adidas tracksuit. People gushed every time she wore it, a doll-sized magenta number with the classic three stripes down the pant and sleeve sides. I knew it was a cheap ploy, but I also felt …

My daughter Mimi was about 6 months old when I bought her an Adidas tracksuit. People gushed every time she wore it, a doll-sized magenta number with the classic three stripes down the pant and sleeve sides. I knew it was a cheap ploy, but I also felt it was my rite of passage as a new parent.

Mimi often wore her tracksuit to daycare, the same one my husband Guillaume went to in Paris' 9th arrondissement. The walls are lined with cribs, bunked one on top of the other. The floor is covered with thick, primary-colored gym mats, and a smattering of simple toys and teething rings that pass from one baby’s mouth to the next. A big glass window lets parents gaze into the petri dish that holds their babies for six to eight hours each day.

Read More >>

Why I’ve Spent 15 Years Stocking Up These French Kitchen Towels

An object is often worth more than its material form. It can bring with it cultural echoes, family history, and personal memory. In The Things We Treasure, writers tell us about their most priceless possessions—and the irreplaceable stories behind them…

An object is often worth more than its material form. It can bring with it cultural echoes, family history, and personal memory. In The Things We Treasure, writers tell us about their most priceless possessions—and the irreplaceable stories behind them.


I carry my kitchen towels wherever I go. Well, at least one or two of them. Certainly to any place where I know I’m going to be cooking, but also to picnics, long car trips, even on planes—it’s amazing how handy they are when you have to eat on the fly. And when I was commuting to an office, there was always one tucked into my lunchbox.

Read More >>