By Mara Zepeda
It's remarkable how many New Year's Resolutions focus on what we swallow. People resolve to banish chocolate, remove the skin from future orders of Peking duck, banish a fridge full of takeout contai...
By Mara Zepeda
The gluttony is almost over. Much to my surprise I lack the energy to make a final pot of turkey stock, ice the last batch of gingerbread cookies and lick the blondie bowl clean. I'm gorged out. In t...
By Mara Zepeda
This fall two of the city's top chefs, Marc Vetri and Jose Garces, released cookbooks. A few weeks ago I documented my harrowing 12-hour meal from Garces' Latin Evolution. This month I turn to Vetri'...
By Mara Zepeda
Fall, my very favorite season, is upon us. I can't tell if I'm shaking from giddiness or the cold morning air. Bike riding is pleasant, sleeping requires a cozy comforter and the economy demands more...
We’ve been stuffing ourselves to the gills around here with soul food from every corner of this fair city. And in the Food & Drink Issue you can see where, exactly, we’ve been doing it. Dig in.
All of the pizzas are framed by a dough that’s crafted in-house. At its best, it results in a crust that lends its toppings a yeasty-sweet and char-flecked depth. Sometimes, however, the pizzas would have benefited from a bit more crispiness. The crust at the edges of all the pizzas, however, was across-the-board excellent, freckled black and blistered from the oven’s heat.
With Don Draper and Co. back on television and a nationwide cocktail renaissance that shows no signs of slowing down, the time couldn’t be riper for a restaurant like the Walnut Street Supper Club. The effect, however, is disappointingly incomplete.
Menapace brines, then fries the bony little buggers, rendering the considerable fat succulent and the strands of meat both crisp and redolent with piggy goodness—think crunchy bacon and fatty pork belly, twisted together around a bone not unlike a chicken wing.