Saveur April/May 2017

This magazine is edited for people interested in food. It explores the authentic cuisines of the world, tracks recipes and ingredients to their places of origin and illuminates their history, traditions and local flavors. It includes all aspects of the world of food including eating, cooking and reading. In addition, it contains informative news about the latest in culinary trends, kitchen tips and techniques and a calendar of culinary events.

United States
Bonnier Corporation
6 期号


editor’s note

In “Tripe and Truffles” (pg. 32), our roving correspondent and fearless buongustaio (he who appreciates the pleasures of food) Adam Gollner rates the lowly lampredotto among the glittering highlights in the City of Lilies. Having eaten a few there myself, I’d have to agree. I’m not saying you should go to Florence only for the sandwiches. There’s gelato, too. “Do you see the world food first?” saveur cofounder Dorothy Kalins asked in her editor’s note in the first issue of this magazine 23 years ago. The answer, then as now, is: Yes, we do. Of course, it’s not only about the food. There’s wine, too. The point is there’s much to be said for getting out of town and seeking new flavors in unlikely places. That’s what motivated Michael Ruhlman to follow…

inside basque country

My friend Olivia’s mother and aunt are preparing quintessential Basque dishes for dinner. There will be blistered padrón peppers, along with baked goods. For the moment, it’s a squid cook-off, and the sisters eye each other’s mise-en-place in the aunt’s apartment kitchen in Biarritz, an elegant beach town wedged between the Pyrenees and the Atlantic Ocean. • When most people think of Basque country, they think of Spain, but the region is made up of seven provinces, three of which are in France. The French portion, called Iparralde in the Basque language, has its own way of doing things. Dinner’s at eight, not 10, and it’s a full meal. While Olivia’s mother and aunt squabble over just how much garlic is too much for their dishes—both end up lovely, though I…

waiter, there’s galangal in my feijoada!

High up one of Lisbon’s interlocking hills in the neighborhood of Mouraria, where many of the city’s immigrants reside and the homes lean perilously into one another, I’m eating cracked crab on the jammed cobblestone patio of Cantinho do Aziz. It swims in a delicately scented coconut broth seasoned with piri-piri, a bright red chile common among Portugal’s Mozambican community. All around me, diners sit at tables festooned with brightly colored African cloth. Twinkle lights zigzag overhead. Khalid Aziz’s father opened the restaurant 33 years ago, when the family first arrived from Mozambique, a country that, until its independence in 1975, had been occupied by Portugal for over four centuries. His father’s patrons were almost exclusively other Mozambican emigrants. Aziz, who shares his father’s name, took over three years ago after…

oh, butter!

If you’ve never been in the presence of a day-old calf, they happen to be disconcertingly large. Recently I followed one—the color and size of a golden retriever—as it stumbled around Diane St. Clair’s barn, bleating loudly. Rain pounded on the roof, my boots were spattered with mud, and my neck ached after a five-hour drive. But it hardly mattered. I’d come to this sparsely populated corner of western Vermont to taste the country’s most sought-after butter. In a tiny creamery just off the barn, St. Clair reached into a refrigerator and took out a pound of her product—four dandelion-yellow balls in a large Ziploc bag. A former New Yorker with no experience in food production, she began making butter almost by accident, after buying a pair of Jersey cows. Wanting…

big sky mongolia

To make khorkhog, first gather stones from a river. Now set the stones over a bed of coals. When they’re blazing hot, toss into a large cauldron and add the meat of one lamb, salt, potatoes, a little water, and some vodka. The animal, butchered and killed that day in honor of our arrival, had hung to dry from the rafters of one of the gers (yurts) belonging to the Bayraa family of Mongolian nomads. The master tent where we would sleep was a wonderland of oilcloths, Soviet garb, and bright cacophonous Asian fabrics. We’d set out from Ulaanbaatar, the capital city, with our driver and guide, Shatarbal Dugerjav, former diplomat to Bulgaria, and a single cassette tape of Mongolian folk music that sounded like horses whinnying and eagles screaming. At the…

test kitchen

Dark Magic The briny flavor and dramatic color of cuttlefish ink It may be spring, the season of vibrant pink rhubarb, pastel green peas, and emerald ramps, but I’ve been gravitating toward the moody hue of cuttlefish ink. For “Tripe and Truffles” (pg. 32), we tested Pitti Gola e Cantina’s risotto al nero, a hearty cuttlefish ink–stained arborio rice (recipe at right). Though a relative of the squid, the cuttlefish has notably different ink. Where squid ink is more purple and less viscous, a cuttlefish’s is jet-black and jelly like with a reflective sheen. Delicately briny, it lends pasta and risotto sauces a subtle, oceanic salinity and intense coloration. Beyond pasta, consider working a few drops into pizza dough, soup broth, or white bean dip. You can find jarred ink online, in gourmet markets,…