Saveur December 2014

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


winging it

Food mysteries, I have found, are best unraveled in layers. Friends who know of my aversion to dim sum often ask: How is it that a girl of Chinese stock would have no taste for Chinese food? Why, they wonder, do my culinary preferences lean farther south, to Indonesia? My answer to both questions is simple: Ah Eng. Ah Eng, you see, was our family cook. At 30, this Chinese-Malaysian generalissimo was the most senior person my family employed at our home in Singapore, so the dubious honor of being chef fell to her. Why? Tradition, said my grandmother. What tradition? Oh, will you be quiet! Though she needed a helping hand or two, the diminutive Ah Eng refused to surrender even a spatula. Those Indonesian girls can’t be trusted in…

peruvian pour

In pisco country on Peru’s southern coast, my bus rattled past windswept dunes. Improbably, grapes grow here. In the 1550s, the colonizing Spaniards planted grapevines, which they irrigated with water from the rivers flowing from the Andes. The wine was soon levied; by distilling fruit rather than making wine, producers could avoid paying taxes. Thus was born pisco, a white spirit made from fermented grape juice. It hit the States during the gold rush. At San Francisco’s Bank Exchange bar, pisco punch hooked devotees with the inclusion of (then legal) cocaine. Prohibition and Peru’s political turbulence soon dampened pisco’s fortunes. Though the spirit found renewed domestic interest in the early 2000s, producers struggled to entice overseas admirers. Legal controls helped. Today, production is strictly regulated. Rather than a tall, modern…

buried treasure

One morning last December, I found myself crouching over emerald green moss digging for truffles, those famously aromatic fungi that grow among the roots of oaks and evergreens, most notably in Italy and France. I wasn’t in Europe, though. I was in Eugene, Oregon, with Chloe and Ilsa, dogs trained to smell for ripe truffles. They barked as they lit upon a promising patch. Forager Connie Green, who has been truffle hunting since the 1970s, knelt beside me, pushing aside loose soil at the foot of a Douglas fir. As we worked, she explained the symbiosis between truffle and tree: The firs provide food (carbohydrates, basically) to the fungi, and the fungi break down organic matter that fertilizes the tree. Finally, I caught a glimpse of ivory in the dirt, and soon…

the return of the bialy

How far would a sane person travel to find an onion roll? I’m afraid that I know the answer. While researching my book The Bialy Eaters (Broadway Books, 2000), the search for the roll known as a bialy took me to Poland, Israel, Argentina, Australia, England, France, and various cities in the United States. For those not yet privileged to know it, the bialy is a squat, squashy bagel alternative characterized by a slightly crackling yet softly puffy rim encircling a crisp center well, all mantled with pungent golden brown flecks of caramelized onions and crunches of poppy seeds. Since then, it has become ever more difficult to find convincing examples. For decades, New York bakers turned out excellent bialys, but with changing times and tamer palates (“What? Me eat burned…

holy city of sips

You wouldn’t know it from the news or guidebooks, but Jerusalem is a great bar city, with a cocktail culture that incorporates local flavors and traditions. A universe apart from the normal trek undertaken by tourists—the esplanade of the mosques, the Western Wall, and the Church of the Holy Sepulchre— the bar scene remains nearly unknown to most visitors. But after a tour of the historic highlights, nothing beats an evening in an (almost) equally storied bar. A classic place to start is The Cellar Bar at The American Colony Hotel, where journalists and clutches of diplomats come to unwind. Fadi Nsra, one of the head barmen, presides over this warren of interlocking rooms under the hotel’s restaurant. My favorite drink there is a gin and tonic that is chockful of…

boston uncommon

Snow is falling. Communal tables are being set. A Pixies song plays as a rush of seafood purveyors carry in the day’s delivery of bluefish, swordfish, and clams. Dinner at Will Gilson’s two-year-old restaurant, Puritan & Company, in Cambridge, Massachusetts, won’t start for a few more hours, but already the barnlike dining room, strung with Mason-jar chandeliers, feels busy and inviting. At 32 years old, Gilson is a youthful, theworld-is-my-oyster kind of guy who is always smiling, and with good reason. He’s running one of the Boston area’s hottest restaurants. He’s getting a lot of love from the local press. And if that weren’t enough, he’s being credited with reviving, if not saving, some of New England’s most beloved dishes. Boston can lay claim to a particular cuisine: salt-pork clam chowders, hearty…