Restaurant Culture

Friday, Jan 15, 2010 1:20 AM UTC

Requiem for a (ridiculous) restaurant

Tavern on the Green had famously awful food and absurd decor. But that didn't stop it from being truly beloved

By Francis Lam

more
- All Share Services

8 January 2010 - New York , NY - Tavern on the Green, the landmark restaurant in Manhattan?s Central Park, holds a public preview of thousands of items it will auction off next week. The restaurant filed for bankruptcy protection in September 2009. The court-ordered sale will be held January 13-15. Photo Credit: Brian Zak/Sipa Press /tavern_bz.009/1001090423 (Sipa via AP Images)(Credit: Associated Press)

The year-round Christmas lights are off; the topiary of King Kong goes ungroomed. The closing of Tavern on the Green, an outlandishly flamboyant restaurant in Central Park with famously awful food, might seem to be notable only to students of the New York restaurant scene. And yet, day after day, I find myself reading about its history, its bankruptcy, and now, the auctioning of its property. People are coming out of the tri-state woodwork hoping to land some of the most outrageous décor pieces since the tsars stopped dropping acid. Some of them, maybe many of them, are building homages to the restaurant in their homes. With fandom like that, I knew I had to see the restaurant at least once, even if it meant crashing the auction. I had to find out what inspired such loyalty.

Over 33 years, the New York Times reviewed Tavern on the Green five times. Not once did it earn more than one star on a scale of four, and twice netted what is usually a career-killing goose egg. It did, however, earn some real low-light comments. In 1976, Mimi Sheraton savaged the baby in its cradle. “Only a few of the simplest cold dishes can be considered decent …” she wrote, and somewhat more perkily: “There were other disasters here, among them a pasty veal chop en chemise, an esthetically offensive creation …”

Even when the restaurant got the food right nearly 20 years later, Ruth Reichl still despaired, “Looking around that fairyland of lights, I felt a surge of rage. To thousands of visitors, Tavern on the Green is New York … does it really have to be such a blatant example of our famous rudeness?”

And yet, despite consistently awful reviews, Tavern on the Green did incredible business. Fifteen hundred people dined under its chandeliers every day, glad-handed by owner Warner LeRoy, a man whose taste in suits would make Liberace blush, and whose father produced “The Wizard of Oz.” In its best year, it topped $38 million in revenues.

“You have to remember that restaurants had a very different function in people’s lives 30 years ago,” Reichl said to me over the phone. “They were much more special occasion places. LeRoy’s genius was knowing that people really wanted to go out for something that did not resemble their homes at all. And they loved the outrageousness of it, the theater of it. He did it like a Hollywood bar mitzvah, a Long Island wedding, that kind of celebration. It was very unabashed. And even if you knew it was awful, you’d walk past all those glittering lights in the garden and think, ‘I want to be in there.’”

Clark Wolf, a longtime food and restaurant consultant and a member of Salon’s Kitchen Cabinet, also credited some of Tavern on the Green’s success to its place and time: “Part of it is the magic of Central Park. Remember, for many years, Central Park was a scary place. Basically, you had the Tavern, and if you went in any further, you thought you were going to be murdered. It was a little bit like the urban version of the glass observation thing over the Grand Canyon, a tourist’s view into the abyss.”

But it was more, obviously, than that. Wolf continued, “It was a special occasion place, but even with all the celebrities, it was never exclusive. Successful restaurants create a sense of exclusivity, but then pierce the scrim when you get there and make you feel welcome. Then you’re seduced. It was like a party. There was no way you could behave incorrectly at Tavern, because you could never be more ridiculous than the place itself. It’s not a White House state dinner. It was kind of a goofy place. And Warner was the perfect frontman, wrapped in taffeta and topped with sparkling lights. And that was just at lunch! Everyone could love it, drag queens and their aunts from Ohio. In New York, a successful restaurant makes you feel like you’re very much in New York, or very transported out of it. Tavern was both — there was nothing more New York and nothing more Mars. I never had a good meal, but I never had a bad time at Tavern on the Green.”

I arrived at the restaurant, where auction attendees spilled out of cabs, speaking Russian, Spanish and Jersey. No one came, as would have been customary when dinner was being served, in horse-drawn carriages.

I walked through the sprawling restaurant, past the life-size statue of a bear that looked as if wailing in sorrow, and noted the items for sale. Pots, pans, a copying machine, the mundane mixed in with LeRoy’s custom suits, my favorite being the one seemingly cut from the patio furniture of a Florida retirement home. There was an entire table devoted to a collection of bronze animal heads. Where in a restaurant would you find use for a collection of bronze animal heads? Say what you will, but the imagination that went into this place was … special.

I met John, a bidder, while he was ducking his big frame into a crystal alcove, making notes on the auction schedule. “I used to work near here, for Channel 7,” he told me, his voice clear and heavy. “We used to have our Christmas parties here.”

“Once,” he continued, “my wife and I wanted to experience something, something really New York, you know? It was a spring night, the bar was open on the patio. They had music. We danced. It was nice,” he said, in that way that makes you realize that sometimes, calling something “nice” is calling it the most important thing in the world.

“I came last Friday to say goodbye, and I just couldn’t. So my wife and I, we came back to take pictures. And I’m here today.”

As he spoke, a woman walked by, calling out something to him. They shared a laugh. “We met yesterday; she was looking at buying some things,” he told me. “It’s heartbreaking.”

Later, in a hallway lined on both sides with beveled mirrors that give you the giddy, innocent illusion of being the only person in the world, I nearly caught a woman ready to faint with despair.

“I’m so sad, I can’t even stand it!” the woman moaned. Barbara was here simply to be in this place one more time. She was dressed prettily in pink, looking far younger than her 72 years, but her shoulders slumped, giving her a rounded, worn look. She listed a bit in her walk, and I, feeling more than a little inappropriate, asked her to speak with me. “Do you live in New York?” she asked me.

“Yes,” I said.

“How long?”

“Eleven years.”

“I’ve been here since 1965. Maybe you don’t understand, but this is the place where you had every major event in your life. For every New Yorker: weddings, proposals, birthdays. Your boss would take you here for lunch if you’d done well. I mean, look at this hallway. You had the essence of a special occasion, just walking through here.” She trailed off.

“Oh, Jesus! Shit!” she blurted. I fought the urge to take her arm. She was quivering. “Oh fuck it! That’s the title of your article! Fuck it!” she spat.

“I had two marriage proposals here,” she said. And then she asked, gently, to be left alone, and for me to write the story that this place deserves.

As Barbara and I spoke, I saw another writer, scribbling furiously in her notebook, as a woman led her through the hallway. “And I was originally booked to be married in this room,” she said, turning the corner.

I took a seat in the grandest of the dining rooms, where the auction was, and where there was little sentimentality. The auctioneer had a clear, pleasant voice, but I suddenly felt uncomfortable, watching the process of liquidation. I thought of the photo I just saw of LeRoy in the hallway, in his epically ugly suit, arms outstretched as if to offer you the whole world, and I felt a sadness watching all this showiness, all this excess, all this strange passion melt into a steady, banal stream of numbers. Twelve hundred is bid … is there a 13? Do we have 13? Bar stools, silverware, piece by piece Tavern on the Green fell away, until they’ll get to the murals and the King Kong topiary, the arcs of ornaments that look like fruit crowns worn by 80-foot-tall Carmen Mirandas, and soon all that will be left will be crews of movers, and then just the memories of the Johns and the Barbaras.

On my way out, I struck up a conversation with a woman leaving with a copy of the menu. She was married there two years ago, and I realized that this was the woman leading the other writer around. “It’s like the Brooklyn Bridge, an institution of New York,” she said. “I’m glad I got to say I got married at Tavern on the Green,” she said. “It was always a party. You always met interesting people there.”

Francis Lam is Features Editor at Gilt Taste, provides color commentary for the Cooking Channel show Food(ography), and tweets at @francis_lam. More Francis Lam.

Thursday, Jan 7, 2010 5:06 PM UTC

Behind the food truck divide

A new gourmet parking lot captures the media's attention -- but where does it leave traditional vendors?

By Thomas Rogers

more
- All Share Services

People wait for their food as others line up to place their orders at Kogi, a Korean BBQ-inspired taco truck, in Torrance, California, April 17, 2009. Kogi BBQ uses the online social networking site "Twitter" to alert followers to their location around the Los Angeles area and any other updates. REUTERS/Danny Moloshok (UNITED STATES BUSINESS FOOD DRINK)(Credit: Reuters)

Gourmet food trucks have been one of the more high-profile food trends over the past few years (L.A.’s Kogi Korean-Mexican fusion truck, New York’s Big Gay Ice Cream Truck, and even the Daniel Boulud food truck), but their hip vibe hasn’t kept them safe from red tape. As a recent Washington Post article made clear, truck operators face a myriad of complicated licensing and zoning regulations in cities around the country — and hefty fines if, for example, they’re caught parked too long in the wrong place.

This week, to great fanfare, organizers turned a former used car lot in Santa Monica, Calif., into a mobile food court where gourmet wagons would be able to serve on a daily basis. The concept has long been floated as a possible solution to gourmet food trucks’ woes — creating a safe space where vendors could park all day, free of bureaucratic harassment — but the lot’s media attention (especially when it got shut down by authorities on its second day of operation) also got us thinking about L.A.’s traditional, immigrant-owned loncheros food and catering trucks. Where do they fit into all of this?

As a fascinating post on N.Y. food blog Midtown Lunch pointed out, Twittering gourmet food trucks are often at odds with more traditional vendors — many of whom have staked out their spots for years according to a long-unspoken code of conduct, and are understandably threatened when a hyper-mobile upstart shows up a few feet away. To find out more, we called Erin Glenn, from the Asociación de Loncheros L.A. Familia Unida de California, a group that represents the city’s catering and food truck operators, and talked about loncheros’ real concerns, why some people don’t seem to want them in their neighborhoods — and why a food lot isn’t going to solve many of their problems.

Why has there been so much bureaucratic resistance to food trucks in some parts of the country?

Traditionally, mobile food trucks have not represented affluence, and affluent areas tend to have problems with mobile food trucks. They represent something that is foreign to a lot of people.

Some people have suggested that designated food-truck lots – like the one that opened, and closed, this week – are a solution to some of these regulation problems.

I think they’re an option. I think it could solve some of the traffic problems. But for the more traditional food trucks, it’s not really about having a safe spot to operate in. Most of our trucks have been operating in the same space for years. They don’t have any trucks to outsource to other areas if they run into problems with ordinances. If they can’t operate, they can’t feed their families.

So what kinds of problems do the loncheros face?

There’s been a stigma attached to “taco trucks” – which is often used as an insulting or inaccurate term. People have this idea that the more traditional trucks are rogue entities that are not paying taxes and not having any kind of overhead. Our members have to have the appropriate permits to operate. They have to pay upward of $200-$300 per week to have their trucks parked and washed. One regulation we face is that when people sell older trucks to another person, the cost of having to upgrade it is ridiculous. It can be detrimental to people trying to operate their own business.

I think the catering and food truck industry has experienced a renaissance, but the infrastructure isn’t taking into account this change and how much this industry contributes to the community that they operate in.

So basically, it’s an industry that’s had a stigma attached for a long time — because it’s largely immigrant-run — and now that it’s gotten a gourmet makeover, the rules haven’t really changed?

Yes. I think that some of the stigma in the past has been motivated by anti-immigrant sentiment. A lot of this anti-immigrant sentiment has been fueled by the stereotypes of the clientele these trucks draw. This industry serves people who don’t have as many resources as people in wealthier communities — but recent protests have shown that that’s just not the case.

It’s made some tremendous gastronomic contributions to the city. This food is really traditional but some of it is much healthier than the typical fast food fare. If you’re going to eat at a taco truck, and you eat a carnitas taco, I’m willing to bet that the salsa is made from fresh vegetables, daily, and it’s more healthy than something that you get at fast food restaurants.

What kind of anti-immigrant sentiment are we talking about?

There’s a lot of scapegoating going on — and a lot of misperception. One of our members, for example, was having an issue in the Echo Park section of Los Angeles, where they’ve been operating for over five years. Some LAPD officers were harassing them on a daily basis, because some of the established businesses thought they were engaged in illegal activity and that the clients caused a ruckus and urinated at night. We were able to do an investigation, and figure out that it wasn’t the clientele that was responsible, it was the people who were coming out of a bar across the street. Now the LAPD officers are helping the same vendors.

How does the attention around gourmet food trucks — and food truck lots — affect you?

Any attention is good attention. I think it keeps food trucks and the idea of food trucks in people’s minds – and it can get legislators to remember that this is an industry that is important and that people care about. If legislators in any city want to make a move against catering and food trucks, given the media attention, they’re going to have to think twice about it.

Continue Reading Close

Thomas Rogers is Salon's Arts Editor. More Thomas Rogers.

Thursday, Dec 31, 2009 2:29 AM UTC

$650 for New Year’s Eve dinner?

A food-and-restaurant consultant explains the price of your special end-of-year restaurant meal

By Thomas Rogers

more
- All Share Services

Reserved table concept, background using Christmas related(Credit: Rudyanto Wijaya)

All things considered, this isn’t really the happiest of New Year’s Eves for the restaurant industry. Despite what Ben Bernanke says, the economy still feels grimmer than a Tiger Woods family reunion, and restaurateurs continue to be hit hard (especially high-end ones) by America’s newly frugal lifestyle. Back in the pre-recession years, New Year’s Eve allowed many restaurants to turn a hefty profit — with elaborate, and often very expensive, multicourse prix fixe menus — but this year, it may not be easy. After a grim 2009, the food research firm Technomic predicted that restaurant revenues would fall again in 2010, and ominously, a recent British survey found that 80 percent of people plan on spending New Year’s at home.

That isn’t stopping some restaurants from putting together the usual intricate New Year’s dinner — and in some cases, charging astronomical prices. At New York’s Aureole, for example, diners will be getting a five-course meal including big-eye tuna sashimi, chestnut ravioli, Canadian lobster, and N.Y. strip loin. The price: a mind-boggling $650.

To put Aureole’s $650 price tag into context, we talked to renowned food and restaurant consultant Clark Wolf about the meaning of New Year’s for the industry, the recession’s impact on New Year’s menus, and the one dish that defines this year’s celebration.

How big of a deal is New Year’s Eve for restaurants, really?

It can be a very big deal — but it depends. Very high-end places like Daniel and Le Bernardin can do New Year’s Eve, but they don’t have to. It’s almost like they do it as a service to their clientele. It’s the middle that has to work hard. In the down economies, what the smart people do is charge moderately above their check average [the average amount of money a guest spends in a restaurant] .

What do you mean?

If their check average is $125, they’ll charge $150, $175 for a prix fixe with some choices — limit the menu to some degree and give some options, but don’t gouge. New Year’s Eve is part of the entire holiday season effort for restaurants. You can find out how you did in your holiday season by how you’re doing in January and February.

So basically, a fancy New Year’s Eve dinner is a restaurant’s enticement for people to come back in the new year?

If you do your job, they’ll keep coming in January. It’s like a Thanksgiving family dinner: If everybody gets along, you’ll probably talk more after.

What’s the logic behind the higher prices?

The logic is, you want it to be special. You want them to know you’re doing more, plus things just cost more to do on New Year’s Eve. Restaurants aren’t the only people who charge more. The flower vendors do. Even ingredients often cost more.

Do you think restaurants have changed their New Year’s approach compared to last year?

Oh my god, absolutely. Last year people were panicked. This year they’re trying to think about what to do. If they’re a special-occasion restaurant, they’re staying open. If they’re an everyday restaurant, they’re closing to be nice to the staff. Restaurants are trying to find ways to be useful to people’s lives. Last year everything was completely uncertain. Our economy went to the edge. It was terrifying. There was a real deep and broad fear. Now [diners] are making choices. For example: Tuesday we don’t need to go out to dinner, but New Year’s Eve we do.

What do you make of Aureole’s extravagant $650 New Year’s Eve dinner?

I think that says to you, That’s a corporate restaurant subsidized by money people for money people. It’s near Times Square. It opened in the midst of the downturn, so they need to get some money. They need to put on a show — which they can do. They want you to be reminded of Aureole so you’ll go back.

What do you expect to see on restaurant menus on New Year’s Eve?

I think we’re going to see a lot of macaroni and cheese with truffles on top. We want the comfort but with the luxury on top. There’s such a focus on good, pure food as being the greatest reward right now that I think we’ll see more of that, both on New Year’s Eve and not.

- – - – - – - – - – -p>

It’s not macaroni and cheese, but if you’ve been lucky enough to score a table, here’s what you’ll be getting (and paying) on Dec. 31 at some of the country’s most distinguished restaurants:

Le Bec-Fin, Philadelphia: $145 for several courses that include Kumamoto oyster with American caviar, truffle-stuffed turbot, and Colorado rack of lamb.

L’Espalier, Boston: $195 for a three-course (plus dessert and amuse-bouche) menu that includes milk-fed organic pig, beef tenderloin with foie gras potato gnocchi, and potato-crusted escolar with French Osetra caviar.

Charlie Trotters, Chicago: $350 (plus $175-$250 for wine pairing) buys you, among other items, black truffles, Osetra caviar and “premium Japanese beef.”

Daniel, NYC: $595 allows you to enjoy an unspecified five-course tasting menu, live music, dancing and a midnight champagne toast at Daniel Boulud’s high-end New York eatery.

Continue Reading Close

Thomas Rogers is Salon's Arts Editor. More Thomas Rogers.

Wednesday, Dec 23, 2009 1:01 AM UTC

Chef’s night in

Some people spend their holidays more relieved than relaxed

By Amanda Cohen and Michael Laiskonis

more
- All Share Services

We asked members of our Kitchen Cabinet to briefly share some of their holiday memories with us, and we’re sharing them with you all this week. Today, two chefs spend the holidays pretty much alone, and that’s alright by them.

From Michael Laiskonis, executive pastry chef, Le Bernardin:

It was a turning point in some way, 15 years ago, when I separated the holidays of youth with the ones I experience now. It was my first Christmas season as a young cook, deep, as we call it, in the shit.

There are busy days in the hospitality industry that are like hard sprints, Valentine’s Day or Mother’s Day, but the weeks that fall between Thanksgiving and New Year’s Eve comprise one long, grueling marathon. As waiters and cooks we subconsciously plan for the “season” all year long, but it’s always still a little shocking when it hits.

I was a baker at a small outfit in the outlying suburbs of Detroit. We were producing around the clock for over two weeks. By Christmas Eve, it was all flying out of the shop as fast as we could fill the cases. I was feeling that deep, to-the-bone kind of tired, surviving only on what little adrenaline I could summon until we finally locked the doors at 4 p.m.

I managed to grab one of the last unsold baguettes and left, exhausted and hungry. On the long drive back to my rented flat in the city, I began to realize that most of the markets had closed as well. I got home, finding just enough to scrape together a simple pasta. Along with the bread I had made with my own hands, it was a solitary dinner, a quiet reward for a lot of hard work. It was an early lesson, though, on just how good food could taste in context; it satisfied a deeper hunger. And then I slept, well into the next day.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

From Amanda Cohen, chef-owner, Dirt Candy:

I never do Chanukah dinner, and the fact is that I’ve been a working chef for the past 11 years. Usually, on Christmas and New Year’s Eve, I’m working. The restaurants where I used to cook were always dead on those days because they never did special menus for the holidays. Trust me, nothing is more demoralizing than working Christmas Eve and doing five covers.

But when I do get to leave after Christmas Eve, I see my family and they cook for me since I’m not about to lift a finger, and I’m always back in town to work on New Year’s.

So basically my holiday story consists of sitting in airports for three or four days, eating food other people make, eating airport food, and then going back to work. Sorry it’s not more exciting, but at least I get to sleep.

Continue Reading Close

Amanda Cohen is a chef and consultant, who opened the award-winning New York restaurant, Dirt Candy More Amanda Cohen.

Michael Laiskonis is the award-winning executive pastry chef at New York's Le Bernardin restaurant More Michael Laiskonis.

Thursday, Dec 10, 2009 1:01 AM UTC

Price check: Veuve Clicquot Yellow Label

Are you being overcharged for a bottle of wine? We called restaurants across the country to find out

By Thomas Rogers

more
- All Share Services

Price check: Veuve Clicquot Yellow Label

This story has been corrected since it was originally published.

Maybe you’ve been in this situation before: You’re having a nice meal at your favorite restaurant and you’d like to order a solid, familiar bottle of wine to go with it. But then you glance at the wine list and realize that the bottle you bought for $15 for your friend’s cats-in-costumes-themed birthday party last weekend will set you back two, or three, or many times more at your table. Inevitably, the irritating question arises: Why am I paying so much money for somebody to uncork a bottle and pour it in my glass?

Markups vary dramatically from restaurant to restaurant, and are often an establishment’s main source of profit, but the easiest way to avoid being overcharged for a bottle of wine is to educate yourself before you check out the wine list. With that in mind, we’re kicking off an occasional feature that we’re calling “price check,” in which we take one bottle, several restaurants, and compare their prices. (Since wholesale prices paid by a restaurant are highly variable, we’re comparing menu prices to that of an average online wine retailer.)

The bottle: To start things off, we’ve chosen a perennial favorite: Veuve Clicquot Yellow Label. The dry champagne is a frequent crowd pleaser — described by its makers as “well-structured” with the scent of white fruits, raisins, vanilla and, oddly enough, brioche. It is also, largely because of its popularity, a frequent target of overzealous pricing. “It seems to sell at nearly any price, with no work, so wine managers tend to mark it up harshly,” says Tara Q. Thomas, a senior editor at Wine & Spirits, and a member of our Kitchen Cabinet.

What you pay for a bottle: An average price for a full 750 ml bottle of Veuve Clicquot Yellow Label, at online retailer Liquor Outlet Wine Cellars, is $48.15.

How do dining-out prices hold up?

Place at Perry’s

7-year-old Dallas steakhouse

Price: $89
Difference: +85 percent

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Siroc Restaurant

Mid-price D.C. Italian-Mediterranean dining room

Price: $91
Difference: +88 percent

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Bar Artisanal

Terrance Brennan’s popular TriBeCa bistro

Price: $95
Difference: +97 percent

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Cassis

2-year-old Zagat-rated San Francisco French restaurant

Price: $99
Difference: +106 percent

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Delmonico’s

Legendary 172-year-old Manhattan steakhouse

Price: $105
Difference: +118 percent

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Nobu

New York branch of Nobu Matsuhisa’s renowned Asian fusion empire

Price: $120
Difference: +149 percent

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Corridor 44

Denver champagne bar and dining room

Price: $120
Difference: +149 percent

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Les Deux

über-hip “The Hills”-featured L.A. restaurant/club

Price: $325
Difference: +575 percent

Continue Reading Close

Thomas Rogers is Salon's Arts Editor. More Thomas Rogers.

Wednesday, Dec 9, 2009 3:10 PM UTC

Last rites for Tavern on the Green, banned fruit, and blue-cheese cookies

A condensed reading list from this week's dining sections

By Thomas Rogers

more
- All Share Services

Highlights from today’s newspaper food coverage:

Today, the New York Times visits the soon-to-be dismantled and sold Tavern on the Green, the legendary and legendarily overpriced restaurant in New York’s Central Park best-known for its topiaries and passion for Christmas lights. For a time the country’s most lucrative restaurant, the Tavern’s failure is one of the most high-profile restaurant closures in recent years, and Kay LeRoy, one of the owners, ex-wife of the Tavern’s founder and former TWA “air hostess,” gives a thoroughly entertaining tour of the restaurant’s many knickknacks and artifacts — including a chandelier from 1790, a 3-foot German carved monkey, and a topiary of King Kong (which was, of course, debuted by Fay Wray). The article’s accompanying slide show is an oddly moving tribute to a very different, more luxurious time (i.e., 2007).

The Globe and Mail writes about the growing profile of food swaps — becoming increasingly popular among “epicures and busy parents looking for convenience without compromising on nutrition.” Wency Leung talks to various swap attendees, who get together every month to exchange heaps of food (one group’s hard-to-believe guideline: making your meal shouldn’t cost more than a loaf of bread). In a recession, after all, it makes sense to cook more, and spend less — but, really, less than a load of bread?

As a scary/exciting reminder that the holiday cookie-baking season is already almost upon us, the Washington Post has an extensive cookie recipe roundup today with a mouth-watering slide show. Among the more noteworthy suggestions, blue cheese walnut cookies (“a refined cookie that goes well with port”), homemade graham crackers, and “winter rainbows,” which come out looking like a 1970s gay pride sweater.

The L.A. Times reports on the growing American supply of the intriguing once-banned Mexican fruit, tejocote. The small orange crabapple-like fruits are unappetizing raw, but when cooked have a “sweet-tart apple-like flavor” that makes them a crucial ingredient for ponche, the Mexican holiday punch. Tejocote can’t be imported because it harbors pests, but it wasn’t until five years ago that a Californian farmer began producing them domestically. (Mexico has recently filed to have the ban removed.) The small fruits can also be preserved peeled in syrup, used in jams or Christmas piñatas, or candied.

The Boston Globe takes a look at the traditions — and recipes — that make up Polish Christmas. Lila Pronczuk, a Polish-American whose parents had been confined to labor camps during WWII, explains that Christmas Eve is far more important in Poland than Christmas Day, and whips up a fragrant mushroom soup called zupa grzybowa (made with dried forest mushrooms sent by her 98-year-old Polish father-in-law). It also includes carrots, parsnips, leeks and celery roots, and, as Jane Dornbusch writes, tastes “refined, with a delicate mushroom essence.”

Continue Reading Close

Thomas Rogers is Salon's Arts Editor. More Thomas Rogers.

Page 4 of 4 in Restaurant Culture