For Prohibition-era New Yorkers, Cuba was a place to bask in the rum.
The emerging disorder among the sustainable set strikes at the height of the fall harvest season, when some locavores break out in a cold sweat at the sight of yet another kale salad, roast chicken or apple crisp.
While wholesalers might offer everything from fenugreek to whole turmeric, Junoon chef Vikas Khanna doesn’t settle for other people’s imports. He travels to India himself every month or two, bringing back as many spices as he can carry.
He says the garden is a place of serenity that transports him back to the plot where he grew greens, peppers and garlic with his family.
Andrés Fabre learned the shaved ice trade from his father, who pushed his own cart on the Lower East Side for 18 years.
It’s condimentary. Sir Kensington’s Ketchup is tailor-made for brawny burgers like Little Owl’s.
Pastrami populi. The exhibit shows how lunch got, well, sandwiched.
These new guides provide the perfect Greenmarket inspiration.
According to an article in the August 19, 1900, New York Sun, down on Wall Street “the brokers themselves got to buying ice cream sandwiches and eating them in a democratic fashion side by side on the sidewalk with the messengers and the office boys.”
An upstate entrepreneur is turning would-be compost into liquid gold: squash seed oil.
More than 60 percent of the produce on the menu at his West Village restaurant, Bell, Book & Candle, is grown in soil-free aeroponics towers on the building’s rooftop.
Jacober’s favorite, by the way, would probably please the real Morris: It’s chef Austin’s riff on a Reuben, made with dilly Russian “tartar” sauce, corned beef and his own pickled Napa cabbage.