Death to Food Network (and Thank You Anthony Bourdain)

DISLAIMER: All opinions expressed here are the sole view of the Urbane Epicurean and should not be taken more seriously than the ravings of a madman. With that being said…

Where are all the REAL foodies?! I don’t mean those people on TV either. You know the saying “real recognize real”? The landscape of food focused individuals is beginning to look real unfamiliar right now. Why is it that every freaking food show or writer is some slightly varied interpretation of the stay at home mom who is very pleasant to speak with and who will teach you how to bake / fry / wash dishes while giving you advice on how to keep your husband happy? And no, not the dirty type, more the listen-when-he-speaks-and-learn-how-to-make-his-favorite-drink type. It continues to amaze me how many people think that to be a good food advocate you have to have some banal, bland, egg shell white persona. If not for the Bourdains and Ruhlmans of the world, I would pull my hair out at the grade school level antics these people use to entertain me and discuss food. I mean come on people, are we really ok with our TV personas being limited to chippy catch phrases (BAM) and quiet talk? Food isn’t just sitting around a stove preparing some recipe that smells “…mmmm so delicious”. It isn’t only about the latest or quickest recipes. Food life in real life is similar to the solar system – it revolves around the sun that is the dish, but ignoring the beauty of the other heavenly bodies would be simply foolish. I believe that food media these days is scorching our eyes by forcing us to only look directly into that bright, beaming sun.


My main issue is that there isn’t enough coverage of people LIVING food. So much of why food has managed to captivate so many people extends beyond just the flavors, tastes and preparation of a dish. It also encompasses the fringe details – the experience you have with your dinner party, the context of why you are together, the history of the ingredients and how someone brilliantly pieced them together, the vibe of your location, the excitement before a great meal adventure, the trends in seasons, the restaurant booms and busts, the gossip – all reasons why people flock to food. For all the damn reality shows on Bizzare Eats and Throwdowns, can we at least get a show that has No Reservations about how food can be cool?!

Why can’t food be cool? Why can’t we meet rockers, rappers, politicians or artists who also live to eat? I’ve met plenty of people in all walks of life who think the same way I do when it comes to every last bit of savory morsel on their plate. But do you see them on TV? No! Have we ever had a special episode dedicated to the trials and tribulations of finding delicious late night post-drinking meals that still taste good when you are sober? Absolutely not! What about food for the organically spirited? And I don’t mean yogurt, I’m talking that dreadlock, Bob Marley, yoga with incense kind of organic. For all the diversity in the world, the media seems fixated on homogeny.

I’m sure many of you would agree, the Food Network is the epitome of this modern day communism. Much like BET, this network only serves to further the negative stereotypes and controversial imagery associated with its target market. In this case, it’s all the sweet talking, entertaining enough that you don’t want to punch them in the face, quirky but not that funny food “personalities” getting airtime over the people you and I can more easily connect with. Not to say there isn’t a market for that sucrose content, but most of the real Urbane people are enjoying their meals in stride, working hard and keeping themselves entertained by the various offerings of the city night life.


Well I say no more! I am the Tank Man, seeking to stop the advancing enemy. I, too, will throw myself in the path of the machine in hopes that they recognize the decency within themselves and halt it from steamrolling over us all with its continual softness. Today I declare war on the niceness in food media, and will no longer support those innocent recipe-huggers (yes, like tree-huggers, only worse) of yesterday. This is the 2000s. Isn’t it about time we had food icons fit for our century?

That’s it, I’m done…

- The UE

Read More......

Urbane Adventures: Latin Libations

Urbane Adventures is back!

Latin Libations, the latest installment of the much loved food tour series, will be a tasting session in which we will have the option of sampling 7 drinks for the recession friendly price $25.

Please join me and the rest of the food frenzied crew for an afternoon of drinking and laughter at Toloache, 50th and 8th, at 3pm on Saturday July 25th.

PLEASE NOTE: To have an accurate head count for the bar staff to prepare the appropriate amount of drinks I NEED EVERYONE TO PURCHASE PRESALE TICKETS. Please follow this link to purchase yours (www.latinlibations.eventbrite.com)

I can't wait to see you guys there!

The UE

Read More......

The Hunger Inside Me

Friday night I was starving…

This was not your typical hunger. The entire week I sustained myself on a meager diet of shredded wheat and NutriGrain bars from the office kitchen. My projects just had me too busy to find a proper meal. At night, I would satiate my grumbling stomach with a protein drink, in hopes of being both healthy and nutritious (eating a full steak dinner after just leaving the office at 11pm didn’t seem like the right move). A man-sized hunger was slowly creeping into my stomach. Day by day, the low rumble soon became a roar and on Friday, as the phones stopped ringing and people began leaving for the Hamptons, I became less interested in eating and more interested in the weekly ritual emancipation from bondage. In the spirit of both Fridays and June 19th, I shed the oppressive shackles of Park Avenue and expeditiously joined a Texas compatriot on his roof for mind expanding conversation.

Then the hunger struck. Much like Audrey II, my stomach began pleading with me “feed me”. Starvation can lead to desperation, but the levelheaded foodie knows in times of extreme hunger, you go to what you know. And I know tacos.


A taco is an exquisite creation, a small bit of heaven stuffed into small, hand sized tortillas for your enjoyment. Though most people today classify this as a post-colonial Mexican snack, it is actually a gift from the Aztecs, who would use tortillas as a utensil to roll food. Tacos have a poetic existence, interpreted by everyone a little differently into all shapes and forms. More traditional pounded corn tortillas have given way to the ultimate double-decker, cheese, sour cream and refried monstrosities we know and love, and everything in between. I will admit, I have enjoyed in a crunchwrap or two in my day.

Unfortunately, tacos are incredibly commoditized these days. Mass production, as it usually does, has distracted us from the soft, flavorful light snack that the taco was originally meant to be. As with all good food, a good taco takes time and love. Real corn tortillas take time to pound and roll. Great salsa isn't just something that comes out of a bottle; it takes fresh ingredients and balance. Being in New York, I have been privileged to some delicious and authentic taco dishes that have utilized traditional methods and ingredients to produce what a taco originally should have been. However, not much creativity has been shown to this tortillian ambrosia in the tri-state area. It’s either Rosa Mexicano or Chipotle. One or two food trucks have tried to carry the banner in the battle against cookie cutter tacos, but they have not had the broad reach, or the juno se qua that makes food so heavenly.

But this Friday I was shown a light beamed down from heaven and reflected off a tortilla. Only recently have I been introduced to the gourmet taco - more artisan than food. Fresh, colorful ingredients blend with innovative and intelligent techniques produce an incredible amount of flavor in a tortilla. Torchy's in Austin was my first true excursion into this forum. A nod of the head should go to the titles of these tacos, with such witticisms as “The Republican” and “The Democrat”, but even with these titles, the offerings still candidly represented the local fresh flavors of well seasoned, slow cooked beef or fresh jalapeños and cilantro. Unfortunately in NY I find myself too often disconnected from those flavors. Until I went to Snack Dragon, a small taco shop in Alphabet City that slaps you in the face with levels of flavor unbeknownst to the Yankee. At a place where the most a taco cost was $5, I spent over $30. There seemed to be no limit to how well this shop could construct a taco – from the texture and flavors of the tortilla to the harmony of the sauce dancing to the syncopation of the meats and salsas. A west coast, almost Portland style, taco shop by nature, this place had everything, from lazily tacked up posters of obscure rock and roll bands, unidentifiable but strangely alluring music playing in the background, and even the BYOB privilege (a must for bohemian food establishments). Snack Dragon was one of the best taco experiences I have had in this city to date. Not just because the food was great, but because it was refreshing to finally experience an interpretation of a classic that didn’t just plain suck. If you don’t get it, just ask yourself: after being almost convinced Michael Keaton was Bruce Wayne, who would you rather watch play Batman, Val Kilmer or Christian Bale?

- The UE

Read More......

Big Apple BBQ

All too often, backyard barbecue goes wrong, especially in New York. People often mistake grilling, when you toss some meat on some coals in your Weber (direct heat), for true barbecue, which should be prepared with some form of smoke (indirect heat). People around here just don't get it. Arguably, the most disturbing image that has repeatedly appeared in NY is the sight of a group of men with pink sweaters thrown casually over their shoulders, huddled around a small grill on their fire escapes, holding Heinekens, purring with manliness. Something about that just doesn't sit right...

But if you are good, brush your teeth and clean behind your ears, then once a year the stars align, time stops, and the Barbecue Gods bless this barren Yankeetown with the rural fixins of the lands below the Mason Dixon line. That's right people - it's BARBECUE FESTIVAL TIME!!!!

Join me this SATURDAY, JUNE 13TH at 1PM in front of the Flatiron Building (23rd and 5th) so we can stuff ourselves to our heart's content.

Some of the best pitmasters from Kansas City, Memphis, South Carolina, and of course, TEXAS, will be in attendance to treat our stomachs with everything from fatty, juicy brisket to fall off the bone ribs.

The festival only takes cash, so please keep some in pocket. I have a Fast Pass, so if you give me money, we can just skip some of the lines.

See you Saturday!

http://www.bigapplebbq.org/

-The UE

PS - Southern Style Medicine (aka Bourbon) will likely be provided :)

Read More......

Love and the Food Lane

Love is more than just a word. It is a tangible expression of an emotion. Some would argue that emotion is simply electrical, instinctual fight of flight reactions, but there must be something more when the word “feeling” is a synonym for our emotions and actions.

I believe love has a symbiotic and inspirational attachment to us. We cannot live without it. From the moment we are born we seek the loving embrace of our parents. We spend a lifetime and millions of dollars searching for the perfect love, our soul mate. Love drives us to be foolish, to move mountains, and to create unforgettable works of art.

I once met a man who said the sum of his grandmother’s love could be understood by watching her in the kitchen. A silent woman, this mans grandmother made statements through her food, meticulously preparing every detail of the meal, from dawn kneading bread, chopping vegetables and simmering meats, until dinnertime was upon her and she could bask in the satisfaction of knowing she filled the tummy of her grandson with the best food she could. A love so pure, that only hours upon hours of work in the kitchen would be good enough for her loved ones.

I remember love like that, a love so enveloping that you can't put it away, you can't stop kneading once you start, and you can't help watching the pot boil. Not being able to relax until every garnish looks absolutely right, because you are giving a part of yourself. The self you pour into this dish, the self who tirelessly slaved to create the perfect something for that special someone. The self that says “please like it, I really tried for you”.

Love and food often go hand in hand. Love is expressed through food, whether it’s trying to impress a hot date, or just ensuring your child will live another day. I often contemplate just how much this world’s relationship with food can differ from place to place, culture to culture. They say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. But who actually believes this? Can you actually make someone fall in love with the flick of a whisk?

-The UE

Read More......