foodmuseumblog

Books: "The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating," Plus, The Escargot Thing

The snail in question was nibbling at night on flower petals, or sometimes portabello mushrooms, nibbling with the consistent chomp of a creature with a thousand teeth. As the author, Elizabeth Tova Bailey puts it, "the comforting sound of the snail’s miniscule munching.”

Bailey, a young woman on the move, was struck down by a mysterious viral illness while traveling. Her recovery, after many years of debilitation, is ongoing. But at her lowest ebb, lying in bed unable even to read or watch tv, she became entranced watching the measured movements and slowed down activities of a wild snail, given to her by a caregiver. The snail became her constant companion.

This superlative small book is about that snail, and snails in general, as well as about recovery, solace, curiosity, and patience.

People eat snails, too, of course, though I always felt the pleasure of "escargots" were 3/4 garlic, white wine, parsley and butter, and 1/4 odd, chewy blackish critter. Snails require purging, you know, a tedious, time-consuming business involving great unpleasantness for the snail over 5 days---fasting, followed by evacuation of snail innards, followed by finishing off the snail by boiling, followed by removal of an organ or two, followed by a briny bath.

So one wonders, why would anyone bother? Better to trap a squirrel, maybe. Or some other small mammal. Or just eat a portabello mushroom cooked up with all that white wine, garlic, butter and parsley.

( Tks to Travel Signposts for the escargots pic.)

NB  The book was published in 2010 by Algonquin Books. You can buy it on Kindle by zooming down to the end of this blog page.

Summit Springs Farm, Maine: Yes, Virginia, There is A Spring(s) Out There Somewhere

Buried in this luscious snowscape is an organic farm, a CSA, run by delightful Mainiacs who happen to be family. They tell me the plan for 2011 is in place, the apprentices lined up, and in less than three weeks seedlings will begin to wiggle forth in the greenhouse.

The sous-farmer, an English major, writes the farm's blog. It's well worth a read.

We at The FOOD Museum salute the sowers and the seedlings of SSFarm, and all growers of good food everywhere, for their vision, pluck, and labors of love. And as for "pluck," how many among us knew that this perky noun also means " the heart, liver, lungs, and trachea of a slaughtered animal especially as an item of food," according to Merriam-Webster?!

Everything comes back to food, eh?  We all learn to make hay while the sun shines, we know certain things are not worth a hill of beans, we'll never bet the farm on derivatives, and at dusk, the chickens always come home to roost. 

Art, Fast Food, Dying Warhorses

You may have seen the headline--McD's is thinking of putting one of their joints in the "food court" that serves the Louvre in Paris.  I can barely believe I am juxtaposing the words "food court" and Louvre. I haven't been there in a while but hitting a little bistro around the corner would have been my choice, after a morning spent tromping through the galleries.  But I need to enter the 21st c., don't I?  Apparently the Champs Elysees McD's is the most successful in the entire McD universe.

Gourmet Magazine, on the other hand, must not be shining brightly enough for Conde-Nast. It is ceasing publication of the ancient ( est. 1941) food journal by the end of this week, astonishingly. The company's Bon Appetit--less grand, less precious, more accessible? will carry on, for the moment.

My mother subscribed to Gourmet for several years in the 1970's, but the real Conde Nast star in our house was always The New Yorker. I've been reading it since I could read, and love it still.

Food for Thought: It's Grammar Time, Again, Kids!

Has anyone noticed----

• "different than" taking over from "different from?"

• the demise of "an" before words like historic?

• the misuse of "fewer?"

Does anyone care?

I do. With one caveat. I  know that language is a living, breathing, thingie--it evolves. Fine. But when did we vote to replace "different from" with "different than?"  Huh? When I was in middle school, then known as "junior high," we were rigorously trained in these matters, including--"You lay the book on the table. You, personally, lie on the table." ( Embarassment in abundance in 7th grade English class.) The dog is ordered to "Go lie down."

Etc., etc.

ps Living in New Mexico I ONCE unwittingly offered up this unforgiveable phrase--"Where is it at?" Because that's what people say here! 

A Food Poem for Sunday Morning

The poetry of Linda Pastan, like that of Billy Collins, has been described with a faint note of scorn as "accessible," by certain literary snobs.  I love accessible--eat it up, in fact.

I sing a song
of the croissant
and of the wily French
who trick themselves daily
back to the world
for its sweet ceremony.
Ah to be reeled
up into morning
on that crisp,
buttery
hook.

Linda Pastan

(Poem found here: http://www.poemhunter.com/poets/)