all things food
Every day on our Hotline—one of Food52’s oldest, coolest features—curious cooks ask questions that the experts in our community answer. Often the questions relate to a specific recipe, but we get open-ended queries, too, like this one from Katie McDona…
Every day on our Hotline—one of Food52’s oldest, coolest features—curious cooks ask questions that the experts in our community answer. Often the questions relate to a specific recipe, but we get open-ended queries, too, like this one from Katie McDonald:
We are two college students who don’t know how to cook and meal plan. Any easy recipes or advice?
Blame it on years in the service industry or my tendency to avoid things I’m not immediately good at, but I don’t cook. I know that’s probably not something you’d expect an editor at Food52 to admit, but I won’t lie to y’all. When it comes to dinner, I…
Blame it on years in the service industry or my tendency to avoid things I’m not immediately good at, but I don’t cook. I know that's probably not something you’d expect an editor at Food52 to admit, but I won’t lie to y’all. When it comes to dinner, I’m often at a restaurant, leaning on my friends who love cooking for others, or reheating a bowl of roasted vegetables over rice (sad, I know). While some find the act of cooking relaxing, rewarding, or fun, I find it stressful, irritating, and unappealing.
Let me be very clear though: I love food. I’m always thinking of my next meal, I love doing deep dives into different cuisines and flavor pairings, and searching for new dishes to try. I enjoy baking—something about following a recipe exactly, to an almost science, is fun for me—and I bartend on the weekends, so you can trust me with making a pie or stirring your cocktail. But if a pot roast needs to be braised, I am simply not the girl you want nearby (although you can count on me to sneak spoonfuls of whatever you’re making on the stove).
I am a huge fan of pairing contrasting flavor notes to taste things more deeply. It might sound strange, but have you ever noticed how a little scatter of flaky salt on chocolate mousse elicits more of its chocolatey-ness? Or a drizzle of honey added t…
I am a huge fan of pairing contrasting flavor notes to taste things more deeply. It might sound strange, but have you ever noticed how a little scatter of flaky salt on chocolate mousse elicits more of its chocolatey-ness? Or a drizzle of honey added to miso further summons its savory funk?
Without getting too sciency, there’s a real thing at work behind this—salt literally stimulates the saliva impulse, connecting us to taste more richly, more deeply. Savory umami, the fifth flavor on our palate, brings exclamation-worthy bursts of flavor.
It’s September 2010, and Food52 just celebrated its first birthday. Meanwhile, Emeril Lagasse has a weekly talk show on something called “Ion Television.” The 14th season of Ina Garten’s Food Network show Barefoot Contessa is in full swing. So is the s…
It’s September 2010, and Food52 just celebrated its first birthday. Meanwhile, Emeril Lagasse has a weekly talk show on something called “Ion Television.” The 14th season of Ina Garten’s Food Network show Barefoot Contessa is in full swing. So is the sixth season of Anthony Bourdain’s No Reservations. Rachael Ray is still making meals in under 30 minutes. And people are really interested in cupcakes.
Also, Instagram doesn’t exist. Yahoo Mail is the third most visited website on the internet. William and Kate are not married. Lebron James has yet to play a game for the Miami Heat. The fourth most viewed YouTube video of the year stars an “Annoying Orange.” Every week, more people watch American Idol than anything else on television. That includes Jeopardy, which recently aired an episode featuring Watson—an artificial intelligence machine made by IBM—defeating the show’s all-time champion, Ken Jennings.
As a millennial born in the late 1980s, I’ve watched Barbie go through many life cycles: she’s had over 200 career paths, raised her various siblings, and built an incredible community in her fictional, plastic version of Malibu. In this time, there ha…
As a millennial born in the late 1980s, I’ve watched Barbie go through many life cycles: she’s had over 200 career paths, raised her various siblings, and built an incredible community in her fictional, plastic version of Malibu. In this time, there have been brief forays into cooking, mainly in her iterations as Pasta Barbie, Baking Chef Barbie, and Ice Cream Shop Barbie.
As we usher Barbie into her new, flat-footed era of self-discovery, I’ve been thinking a lot about how and what Barbie would eat during this chapter of her life. As a fellow home-owning, city-dwelling millennial woman (I haven’t figured out how to float through my home yet, but I’m working on it), the possibility of having unfettered access to a dream kitchen feels daunting—but thrilling. I do recognize that none of these interpretations are serious or absolute. Think of them as simple daydreams and musings of pink house grandeur.