Life Is Meals_ A Food Lover's Book of Days - James Salter [43]
K.S.
SOLITARY DINNERS
There are periods in life when the most difficult problem is, who can you have dinner with? It seems a banishment, an exclusion from all that may be going on, to have to eat and perhaps spend the evening alone. This is especially true if you happen to be young.
When eating alone at home, I either eat very lightly or take the time to prepare a creditable dinner, not frozen or microwaved, and sit down to it feeling sorry for those who are not there. If it’s winter, I have a fire. In the summer, I sit outside.
Eating alone in a restaurant, sitting at a table, is usually tedious. First there is the wait for the menu, then to give your order, then a longer wait for the food itself, etc. You are marooned at the table with a rarely seen waiter as the only possible rescue, the light is probably not good enough to read by, and also you haven’t brought a book. If it is a decent restaurant, there is usually service at the bar, the best solution. There is no uncomfortable wait. The bartender usually has a place setting ready to lay before you, and you can drink in comfort until the food arrives. Drinking alone is not something admonishable—bars are made for that—and if you are in need of conversation, that is a bartender’s duty.
J.S.
BURAN
There is still served throughout the Arab crescent from Spain to India various versions of a dish that originated at a gorgeous wedding more than a thousand years ago and was named for the bride. The wedding was that of the son and successor of Harun al-Rashid, the most famous of the caliphs, immortalized by the Thousand and One Nights. Baghdad and the vast Islamic empire were at their zenith. In a special palace built just for the occasion, the bridegroom stood on a gold tray and a waterfall of pearls was poured upon him. There were night-long feasts during the weeks of celebration, and an exotic food from India was the basis of the enduring dish. It was eggplant fried in oil. The bride’s nickname was Buran, and the many related dishes still carry some form of it.
JAMES BEARD
1903. James Beard is born in Portland, Oregon, to an English mother who ran a boardinghouse and was an accomplished cook, passionate about food. Beard’s own thwarted passion was for the theater. He worked in it and even studied to be a singer. His attempts, in America and Europe, lasted into his thirties, when, to support himself, he became involved in catering, opened a small food shop, and published, in 1940, a first cookbook, focused on hors d’oeuvres. He went on to write eighteen others, as well as to become, over a long career, the country’s most visible and authentic culinary figure.
As with Julia Child, it was television that brought him fame. Large, sociable, and a living symbol of his métier, his first show, I Love to Eat, was fittingly named for its host. He taught cooking, was a consultant to restaurants, sold wine, and endorsed food products, describing himself once as a great gastronomic whore. His credo, stemming from his youth in a bountiful and unspoiled Oregon, was fresh, wholesome ingredients honestly prepared.
He died in 1985 at the age of eighty-one.
MUSTARD
No hot dog or corned beef sandwich is complete without it. In fact, since prehistoric times, mustard has grown so readily in so many places that, next to pepper, it is the condiment most commonly available in the world for adding sharpness and flavor to food. The oil from the black mustard seed is widely used in India in cooking, hair tonic, and as a liniment. It once represented fertility to Hindus. The Chinese are more likely to use the greens as a flavoring vegetable, as did the ancient Romans.
When the tiny seeds are crushed, they release an oil that forms a paste. Brought into contact with water, this results in a volatile, pungent compound