Saveur March 2014

The farmer and writer Mas Masumoto lives in the San Joaquin Valley, a part of California I've loved since childhood, when I'd tag along with my father as he traveled from our Bay Area home to peddle office supplies there. On the far side of the coastal mountains, its sprawling farms and small towns held an exotic appeal. As my interest in food sharpened, I came to appreciate this majestic breadbasket, with its fields of vegetables and branches drooping with fruit, for the food it produced. I've often shared my enthusiasm in saveur, bringing the Valley's bounty to its pages. Last year, photographer James Roper and I visited Masumoto during the off-season. (That's me in the photo, toting a camera to shoot video there, viewable at saveur.com/masumoto.) He described the care he…

On a recent trip to Japan, I visited Heimin Kaneko at his tiny Tokyo apartment. I knew Kaneko from his popular blog about Japanese curry Redolent of cumin and dozens of other spices, sweetened with fruit or honey, and made with myriad combinations of meat, fish, and vegetables, it's a dish that inspires dedication—even obsession—in Japan. Kaneko made far more than he or I could eat. So, as it simmered, he put out a call to his 5,890 Twitter followers: Who wants curry for dinner? Minutes later, the doorbell started ringing, as people—some friends, some strangers—showed up. Kaneko's retro-style curry was chockful of tender root vegetables, plump shrimp, and savory beef. We ladled it over white rice and dug in, the moment perfectly capturing what this food—so satisfying and easy…

Nelson Mandela, the activist who became South Africa's first postapartheid president, died this past December at 95. One way to honor his legacy is, surprisingly, with wine. The grapes in House of Mandela Royal Reserve Cabernet Sauvignon 2008 ($50), from Makaziwe Mandela-Amuah and Tukwini Mandela, his daughter and granddaughter, are sourced from sustainable family farms with fair labor practices; a portion of the profits goes to fighting poverty. Says Makaziwe, “My father always said that as long as we act with integrity and honesty, he blesses everything we do.” Rich with blackberry and oaky vanilla flavors, this high-minded, lovely cabernet does feel like a blessing.…

March 2014 (Sugar Shacks) montreal, quebec During peak maple syrup season, Quebec's rustic cabanes à sucre (sugar shacks) throw all-you-can-eat breakfasts featuring maple-cooked eggs, maple baked beans, and pork pies known as tourtières. In Montreal, La Cabane, a pop-up sugar shack, offers elevated takes on the tradition with dishes like foie gras and maple jelly. Info: tourisme-mon-treal.org 2–4 Battaglia delle Arance (Battle of the Oranges) ivrea, italy Citizens of this small Italian town hurl more than a million pounds of citrus at each other in an annual reenactment of a 12th-century fight between townsfolk and a local tyrant. The pre-Lenten food fight attracts around 4,000 participants and 100,000 spectators each year. Info: storicocarnevaleivrea.it/English 13 anniversary The Waldorf Hotel 1893, new york city When it first opened at its original 34th Street location, the Waldorf, now 121 years old, offered the apex of…

During the Cold War, leaders of Eastern-bloc countries wanted to prove they could keep up with the West in every way possible—from launching satellites to earning Olympic medals to, on a more epicurean level, creating beverages that could rival American soft drink icons Coca-Cola and Pepsi The planned economies of the era lacked access to cola nuts, vanilla pods, and many other ingredients that typically flavor colas. But with a bit of Old World ingenuity, communist-era food scientists came up with substitute soft drinks using ingredients they had in abundance. Yugoslavia's Coca-Cola imitator, Cockta (introduced in 1953), was made with rose hips, a traditional ingredient in jams, sauces, and herbal teas. In Czechoslovakia, Kofola (1960), a gingery, spicy quencher, was flavored with coffee beans, while in Hungary, crisp, fruity Traubi…

I first came across Irish buttered eggs—eggs rubbed in softened butter—at a stand at a market in Cork, Ireland. Jerry Moynihan, the farmer selling them, explained that buttering was a means of preserving eggs. Because the shell is porous, it absorbs the butter to form a more protective seal. Curious, I took one home. Soft-boiled, it tasted fresh from the hen, the yolk the color of sunshine, the white carrying with it a whiff of cream. Today buttered eggs are a delicacy, largely vanished from Irish farmyards and pantries. “You can't butter eggs by machine,” Moynihan told me. Every one needs to be done by hand. Farmers' wives used to say it was a task most difficult to execute in winter, when the butter was harder and their hands were…