M.F.K. Fisher

Crazy Water

My mother picked me up at my Manhattan office the other day so that I could take her out to lunch at a nearby faux trattoria — the kind of place that attempts to be Roman in its studied culinary insouciance, but succeeds only in doing things that Romans would actually never do, like forgetting […]

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A Conversation with Tamar Adler

It seems to me that when you occupy the vast universe of writing about anything having to do with food and eating, the consumer world — hell-bent upon labeling you for quick and easy intellectual consumption — will stick you into one of two camps. There’s the recipe camp, with its headnotes and process instructions, […]

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