When I arrived at the Southern Foodways Alliance symposium last weekend, I knew the discussions would focus on food and music. I just didn't expect it to happen so quickly.
At the intro dinner I made a new friend named Bob Roth who had traveled to Oxford from Chicago. We sat down to eat at City Grocery where Chef John Currence had made a meal inspired by his time on the road with a band -- gussied-up diner food of buttermilk cardamom biscuits with truffled duck sausage gravy; lamb meatloaf with roof-dried tomato ketchup, and more. (Wow.)
Over dinner our conversation turned to music in the natural sort of way that happens when people gather -- symposium or not. Bob suggested a song and wrote the title next to my plate.
So the official meeting had yet to commence, but food and music were already on the table.
Here's Todd Snider (the poet and "tipsy gypsy" from East Nashville) with Money, Compliments, Publicity.
They're responsible for this T-shirt (along with the designer Billy Reid)...
But more than awesome slogans, SFA preserves Southern food culture through film, interviews, charitable work, etc.
I like to write about food because I think it's such a poignant expression of culture. It's art, travel, agriculture, health and social issues... but it’s also a bologna sandwich with Aunt Eunice, if you know what I mean. I believe SFA celebrates food culture in all its simplicity -- and complexity -- so I can't wait for their annual conference next week about Southern food and music and how the two have influenced one another.
The SFA also puts out a collection of the Best of Southern Food Writing every year. It's usually some of my favorite writers like Rick Bragg and R.W. Apple Jr. from the New York Times, so I have pored over every word of every book. But this year, they chose one of my stories from The Tennessean, and I couldn't have been more surprised if they’d thrown an iron skillet at my forehead. I'm so flattered, and convinced frankly that it was more my subject than my writing -- a feisty chef in her 80s named Phila Hach. She has such a positive, magnetic spirit that every time I visit her I want to crawl into the folds of her apron and live off her little crumbs of wisdom. (If you want to read the story about her, click here: "She's the Grace Before Dinner.")
I'm glad, too, that the SFA seems to have a sense of humor about the culture thing. Yeah, we're probably gonna get all deep on food and music, but we'll also be treated to a chitlin -themed performance by the Memphis Ballet, and one session led by Roy Blount Jr. will cover Songs About Food That Are Really About Sex. Uh-huh. Make cornbread not war indeed.
I’m thinking this is an example from Old Crow Medicine Show. I wonder if he'll mention it…
In the scheme of things, a month is like a kernel of quinoa. No, smaller. Way smaller.
So when I spent last month eating only vegan food for Vegan for a Month with some co-workers, I hardly learned all I wanted to know about the lifestyle. But for any non-vegans, here are some random thoughts on the experience...
1. Lots of label-reading.
Here, Jessica and Kristin inspect the PARAGRAPH of chemicals listed on this jug of "punch" at a co-worker's baby show.
I can't remember if it was vegan or not, but I think we all decided to pass.
2. Finding lots of great things to eat , though, was easy. Really!
Roasted root vegetables and fennel from Margot Cafe.
But my favorite experience happened at Jamaicaway. The owner Ouida Bradshaw shooed me out the door at lunch one day and told me to come back in an hour so she could whip up enough curried tofu and sides to apparently feed an entire island. So nice! (Another reason to visit Jamaica? As if I needed one.) 3. Working as a food writer, I've learned that turning down food -- especially food that's been carefully prepared and offered as a gift -- can be pretty offensive. So the hard part of veganism for me was disappointing people. I appreciate food most for its ability to bring people together, and sometimes I felt like veganism had a divisive vibe. I decided that if choosing a vegan lifestyle is about NOT harming, I would prefer to weigh the consequences of choices on a case by case basis. For example, if someone’s grandmother had offered me a specially prepared slice of homemade pound cake with an entire stick of butter in it, well, sorry. I would have eaten it.
4. If you haven’t already read it, the World Peace Diet by Will Tuttle will gently -- in a calming yoga voice -- scare the be-jesus out of you about what goes into your body. Very interesting. Next I’m going to read The China Study, which I heard is A.) Like walking on glass to get through, so we’ll see B.) The most comprehensive nutrition study completed to date C.) The basis behind Whole Foods’ in-house health philosophy (for what it’s worth).
5. When the subject of animal mistreatment at factory farms comes up, I get annoyed with people who cover their ears and shriek, "I don't want to know!" Really? Well that's just irresponsible.
6. This stat from Food Inc. will forever make me pause before eating meat.
"If every American skipped one meal of meat per week and substituted vegetarian foods instead, the carbon dioxide savings would be the same as taking more than a half-million cars off U.S. roads."
As will this New York Times cover story about hamburger and some of the disgusting companies that sell it. Gag. How is this allowed?????
7. Lastly, we’re all in this together, right? We had some negative feedback from vegans who didn’t seem to think our efforts were serious or comprehensive enough. And while, yeah, a month is just a blip and hardcore vegans should totally be commended for their longer-term discipline and commitment, I would argue that even small changes make a difference. Regardless of our experiment’s scope, it truly changed how we think about food and gave us new perspective. Jessica (who asked at the beginning of the project if a margarita was vegan) has decided to stay the vegan course indefinitely. And if we’ve inspired even one person to think about their choices, then great! As Brenda Davis and Vesanto Melina noted in Becoming Vegan: "Every step you take towards a more compassionate world is one of celebration." Word.
So now how about a little music from one of my favorite famous vegans, Conor Oberst, in a video that's all kinds of coming together. So beautiful.
So GQ magazine recently named Nashville one the Top 10 Drinking Cities.
I don't know whether to be proud or embarrassed.
The honky tonks always get mentioned in lists like this, but I was glad to also see The Patterson House. Having a cocktail at that bar is like getting a spa treatment.
It's tranquil (for the most part). Good manners are sort of required. And it just smells sooo good. How could it not when the bartenders spank (their word) sprigs of mint over drinks to release essence, and hunch like little bow-tied scientists over cocktails with droppers of house-made infusions such as rose water.
On my last trip I had the Vincent's Ruin, a cocktail named as such because it contains absinthe...and lemon bitters, St. Germain elderflower liqueur, and bourbon, which pretty much makes it Jennifer's Ruin, too.
The checks are delivered inside books, and my table got an old how-to on journalism. This is the chapter on "Newspaper Morals." (Insert fit of laughter here?). But lest we get too fancy, here's a video of my friend Lynn's karoke performance at Lonnie's Western Room, another bar that could have made GQ's list. This is his version of Merle Haggard's "I Think I'll Just Sit Here and Drink." Is there a better song about drinking, really?
Then these cats brought the house DOWN with...oh I'm not gonna tell you. You must watch...
The weather is nasty in Nashville tonight, so I’m relishing in the final days of tomato season with a spicy roasted tomato and red pepper soup.
So easy (recipe below.) And it fills my little hut with the sweet aroma of slow-roasting vegetables.
And speaking of tomatoes, I meant to post about the Tomato Art Fest, my favorite festival in the ‘hood that takes place every August. But in the super-speedy world of cyberspace, August was practically the Reagan era, so I won’t dwell. Just the highlights…
It was hot. This man has ice in his beer. This guy is dressed like a tomato. Tiny tomato?
The Tomato Art Fest is a prime example of how food can bring people together. Lots of non-East Nashvillians even risked robbery to cross the river and hang with us! I shared these cupcakes with two strangers at 3 Crow Bar. Sanitary? No. But a lovely moment over cake and beer.
But my favorite parts actually happened leading up to the festival. A tomato and wine tasting at Rumours East… My friend Jaime perfecting her bloody mary recipe for 3 Crow’s Bloody Mary contest.
And then the tasting... Jaime's Miso Merry had an Asian vibe – sassy ginger (among other secret ingredients) with a black sesame seed rim. BRILLIANT! But since she won last year, the judges totally caved for a subpar entry. Talk about robbery!
Coat a roasting pan with some olive oil. Add some quartered tomatoes, onions and red pepper (Cooking for one, I like this ratio: 2 tomatoes, 1/2 a pepper, 3/4 an onion.) Throw in a couple cloves of garlic. S&P. Then roast for about 40 minutes on 350 degrees (I have to go a little longer at a lower temp on the toaster oven). Then puree with vegetable stock and add spices to your liking. Heidi calls for smoked paprika, but I'm not a huge fan of that spice. So I go with red pepper flakes.
My grandfather called her Sunshine. And when my grandmother wanted a simple meal, she called it a nasty bite. Sometimes that meant a bowl of homemade soup -- other times just a Little Debbie snack cake.
But more than food, it was often a memory or a moment that went beyond sustaining life to making it.
Those are the moments I seek. So like Sunshine, I'm just looking for a nasty bite too.
