Brazil’s cheesy snacks are world famous, from pão de queijo (cheese bread) to grilled coalho skewers, but the South American country has never been known for its cheesemaking prowess. Now, that’s changing. With traditional styles like Canastra and Serro winning medals at international competitions and showing up on the menus of Michelin-starred restaurants like Lasai in Rio de Janeiro and Maní in São Paulo, Brazil is in the midst of a full-blown artisanal cheese revolution. 

Though cheesemaking in Brazil stretches back several hundred years, it wasn’t until 2015, when producer Guilherme Ferreira won a silver medal at Le Mondial du Fromage et des Produits Laitiers competition in Tours, France, that the country’s cheese was recognized on an international stage. Since then, Brazil has swept the annual competition, taking home a whopping 57 medals in last year’s ceremony—coming in second only to France.

Cheesemaker Heloisa Collins of Capril do Bosque picked up one of last year’s medals. She’s been a passionate producer since 1975, after she and her husband made a home on a farm in Joanópolis, Brazil. For the first two decades, cheesemaking was only a hobby for Collins, whose day job was in applied linguistics research. On business trips to Europe, she developed a love for foreign cheeses like Valençay and Stilton, and picked up recipe books so she could recreate those styles at home. On weekends, friends came over to sample her creations. “The process allowed me to develop a varied portfolio of cheeses over a long time, with a lot of testing and no hurry,” she says. Eventually, Collins purchased a herd of goats. They helped her make her now-famous Azul do Bosque—the first blue goat cheese in Brazil, partly inspired by English Stilton, and the silver medal recipient of last year’s competition.

Today, Collins produces more than 15 cheeses inspired by different places and traditions, but all share a “tropical touch,” as she calls it. Her Cacauzinho is a chevre matured with pure cocoa powder and cumaru (tonka bean) from the state of Pará, while her Serra do Lopo is a semi-cooked goat-and-buffalo cheese that uses Brazilian beer as a wash. “In ten years, [Brazilian cheese will] occupy a place of honor in the world of artisanal cheesemaking,” she says. “We have a lot of varied and healthy bacteria in our milk, as well as molds that haven’t been described yet.”

Collins is one of the more than 100 producers who will present their goods at the forthcoming Mundial do Queijo do Brasil, the second edition of the trailblazing international competition, to be held in São Paulo from September 15-18. The weekend event will draw nearly 50,000 cheese-loving attendees and feature two first-of-their-kind contests (Best Brazilian Cheesemaker and Best Brazilian Cheesemonger) judged by a panel from the Guilde Internationale des Fromagers. As part of the festivities, 40 participating restaurants, bars, and cafés in the city will feature the competing cheeses on their menus. “This is an opportunity to show the world what’s happening in Brazil,” says the competition’s founder, Debora de Carvalho.

What makes Brazil’s artisanal cheeses so worthy of celebration? For De Carvalho, it comes down to the country’s unique terroir—the intense sunlight, sweet native grasses, and salty breeze off the South Atlantic. And of course, the cows. De Carvalho explains that Brazil started importing cattle like the Gir and Zebu breeds from India over a century ago. The animals are resistant to hot temperatures and tropical diseases, which means they’re well suited to conditions in Brazil. Their milk is naturally quite salty and high in A2 beta-casein, giving the milk a slightly different protein ratio than that of the A1 milk-producing herds in the U.S. “People who try it for the first time say it’s really interesting and different from what they’re used to,” she adds. “Some people didn’t know how to describe it. Others say it tastes like herbs.”

The distinctive taste and rich cultural traditions surrounding cheese production has led the Brazilian government to grant geographical indication status to several artisanal cheeses. While this practice is quite commonplace in Europe (with controlled products like Champagne and Parmigiano Reggiano), it’s a relatively new practice in Brazil, beginning with the protection of Queijo do Serro in 2011. Since then, a handful of cheeses have received this designation: just last year, Marajó buffalo cheese from the Amazonian island of Marajó, in Pará, was deemed worthy of protection.

As important as these designations are, cheesemakers in Brazil are generally frustrated by the government’s lack of support when it comes to distribution and sale. Most traditional artisan cheeses in Brazil, especially those from the regions of Minas Gerais and Bahia, are made from raw milk. Like the U.S., Brazil prohibits the commercialization of cheese made from raw milk unless it’s been ripened for more than 60 days—a means to mitigate contamination and reduce human illness. But hardly any of these artisanal cheeses, which have been produced by rural families for hundreds of years, meet this criterion. The minimum ripening period for Canastra, for example, is just 22 days, resulting in a semi-hard or slightly soft compact cheese. Serro is normally ripened for 3 to 15 days. This means very few cheesemakers in Brazil can sell outside their manufacturing state, and exporting the products is currently illegal. Producers who participate in international competitions like the Mondial du Fromage must effectively smuggle the products in their suitcase. “The police confiscate cheese every week in Brazil,” says De Carvalho, who herself dabbled in cheesemaking until the day the authorities showed up and seized her products.

While De Carvalho estimates there are some 900 rules governing the sale and distribution of cheese in Brazil, she is still optimistic about the future. “There is a lot of progress, mostly because most consumers prefer these cheeses.”

Cheesemaker Érico Kokya of the Pé do Morro, a farm and winery 50 miles northwest of São Paulo, is similarly hopeful. “We are discovering, or rediscovering, these cheeses in Brazil,” he says. “People are gaining interest in local products and starting to value things that are made here, so legislation will also start changing.” While he’s technically only allowed to sell his products within his local area, the limitation hasn’t stopped dozens of people from showing up to his property every weekend to pick up picnic baskets full of charcuterie, local jams, and Brazilian takes on European-inspired cheeses. Crowd favorites include the creamy and acidic Quark, which has the consistency of drained yogurt, and the Lua cheese, inspired by a Camembert recipe from Germany and matured on grills to form the white mold coating. 

In Brazil’s fine-dining scene today, domestically produced artisanal cheeses are becoming increasingly common. At São Paulo hotspot A Casa do Porco—recognized as one of The World’s 50 Best Restaurants two years and counting—Pé do Morro’s cheeses play a supporting role in succulent pork dishes prepared a dozen ways. Several other Brazilian makers’ products feature on the menu of chef Rodrigo Oliviera’s celebrated Mocotó restaurant in São Paulo, including fried Coalho cheese drizzled with molasses, and oxtail with cheesy corn grits made with Canasta. The tasting menu at Michelin-starred restaurant Lasai in Rio de Janeiro boasts a course of four Brazilian cheeses paired with varieties of local honey. And of course, Brazil’s first artisanal shop, A Queijaria, which opened in 2008 and stocks over 150 artisanal cheeses sourced from all corners of Brazil, still draws enthusiasts to São Paulo’s Vila Madalena.

As for when these cheeses will be available abroad, nobody can say for sure just yet. But one thing’s for certain: the secret on Brazilian cheese is out—and it’s only a matter of time until the wider world demands a taste.

The post The Next Big Cheese May Not Come From Europe appeared first on Saveur.

The relationship between “healthy” food and inclusivity tends to be inverse. Health food brands often project an aura of exclusivity around their products. Ghost Town Oats, the world’s first Black- and queer-owned oat milk company, wants to break down the barrier surrounding one of today’s trendiest health-promoting products—one delicious, creamy cappuccino at a time. 

As of late July, the LA-based brand is officially available in select coffee shops in Los Angeles, like Dayglow and Obet & Del’s Coffee, and Chicago, like Stan’s Donuts. It’s the fledgling company’s first step toward creating a deeply inclusive, widely available, and (attention, baristas) better-tasting oat milk. 

Like many newish and innovative food companies, Ghost Town Oats was a brainchild of the pandemic. Stuck at home, veteran coffee professionals Michelle Johnson, Ezra Baker, and Eric J. Grimm decided to join forces and create a product that they felt the industry needed. Their goals were threefold: taste, texture, and culture. “We really homed in on what flavors we wanted,” said Baker on a recent phone call, explaining that many of the existing oat milks tasted overwhelmingly “oaty.” Their goal was to create one with a taste and creaminess that approximated whole milk.

Because all of the founders are baristas at heart—Johnson, known for her blog The Chocolate Barista, was in fact the first Black woman to qualify for the U.S. Barista Championship—it was important that the milk alternative they created could steam exceptionally well. “That was the number one thing that we wanted to do,” said Baker. 

Finally, they wanted to reach customers they believe have too often been excluded from plant-based milk culture—specifically, communities of color. Currently, according to Baker, the target audience for alternative milks largely overlaps with wellness adherents—mostly white, mostly affluent. According to Baker, “we want to be the bridge” to a much wider, more diverse customer base. “We want to be the Sprite of oat milk,” he continued, in reference to how the lemon-lime soda was historically heavily marketed to African American communities. But unlike Sprite, oat milk carries nutritional benefits—and it’s lactose-free, a significant consideration for communities of color that Baker points out are more likely to experience lactose intolerance. 

The company’s commitment to inclusivity runs so deep that it’s even built into the financing. Through the WeFunder platform, the company invites anyone to buy a piece of the pie (for as little as $100) and potentially earn a return on their investment. As of this writing, Ghost Town Oats has raised $236,518 from 392 investors.

If investors have proven to be eager, so have customers (and wannabe customers). According to the company’s WeFunder page, the waitlist for coffee shops wanting to carry Ghost Town Oats has soared past 100. Reminiscent of the explosive growth of the bonafide unicorn startup Oatly, Ghost Town Oats stands to scale fast. “It’s almost scary for someone who’s never done this. I’m freaking out a little bit,” said Baker with a laugh. “But we’re having fun.”

When asked about his ultimate vision of success, Baker didn’t mention funding rounds or financials. He replied, “Success for us would be to go to any bodega in New York City or in Brooklyn and find our product there.”

The post Why Oat Milk Is Too White—And How One Brand Is Determined to Change That appeared first on Saveur.

Our Place is always making headlines—and for good reason. The cookware brand is well-known for its stylish, multipurpose Always Pan and Perfect Pot, which are constantly being updated in exciting ways, from new styles and materials to celebrity collaborations. Today, fresh off the release of their dreamy new color, Our Place has just announced that their fan-favorite Always Pan and Perfect Pot are available in new miniature sizes. 

What can I expect from the new sizes?

Perfect for small-batch cooking and serving right on the table, the Mini Always Pan and Mini Perfect Pot can fit seamlessly into tiny apartments, cozy dorm rooms, and road-trip-ready campers. The small-scale cookware is available in six sleek shades: steam, char, sage, spice, blue salt, and lavender. Like the full-sized versions, the 8.5-inch pan and pot boast the same multifunctionality and nonstick, non-toxic ceramic coating that’s perfect for scrambling eggs or cooking pasta for two. And, once you’re done using them, a simple wipe down is all it takes for them to be good as new. 

How can I buy the mini Always Pan and Perfect Pot?

Starting Aug. 9, the miniature cookware is available to purchase on Our Place’s website, and is expected to ship in mid-August. The smaller versions of the Always Pan and Perfect Pot are available for $115 and $125 respectively, or you can purchase a bundle of both for $195. We don’t advise waiting—Our Place is known to sell out quickly, and these small-but-mighty kitchen workhorses will be no exception.

The post Our Place Just Dropped Its Cutest Cookware Yet appeared first on Saveur.

There is no shortage of challenges for the front of house, an industry term for those who work in customer-facing restaurant roles. A new project, launched by a collection of international hospitality organizations, aims to investigate these shortfalls, with the goal of developing better support systems.

Last month, The Front of House Project—conceptualized by digital publisher Fine Dining Lovers, in conjunction with a handful of partners like the Basque Culinary Center and Relais & Chateaux—launched two global surveys targeting both diners and hospitality workers. 

“It has been hard to ignore the devastation that has been building over the last three years, and while a lot of support has been shown for the restaurant industry, it has focused on the restaurant as a whole, as well as the chef and kitchen,” says Ryan King, editor-in-chief of Fine Dining Lovers. “It was clear that [the] front of house was just not being given the attention they needed. Fifty percent of a dining experience is down to the amazing work of the front-of-house crews.”

The surveys, which were developed over the course of six months and edited by Vaughn Tan, professor of strategy and entrepreneurship at University College London’s School of Management, ask diners to select from a list of several possible beliefs to ascertain the respondent’s view of “good service” (i.e. “Waitstaff are attentive but don’t get in my way or interrupt my meal repeatedly,” or “Waitstaff know the food and drinks menu in detail and can explain it to me”). The survey also poses questions like, “Do you believe that the customer is always right?” 

The survey asks respondents in the industry things like what resources their current employer is lacking and quizzes them about their views on career-development opportunities. “Have you encountered discrimination of any kind from fellow restaurant team members while working in front of house in any of the restaurants you have worked at?” the questionnaire asks.

Both versions of the survey attempt to investigate how and why a guest may choose to shirk a reservation, and what impact that has on service.

King says that so far the questionnaire has received about 7,000 responses, though the surveys will be open until Aug. 25. The resulting data will be made accessible to all through a free-to-access digital report. 

“The industry is on its knees,” he says. “We are in a critical position right now and this information may give us the opportunity to shape and direct the industry in the best way possible for the future.”

The post Servers Have It Rough, But Help Could Be On the Way appeared first on Saveur.

The last of the day’s visitors trickle out from Singapore’s famed Botanic Gardens, leaving the footpaths that wind through the lush foliage and throngs of orchids deserted. But listen carefully and you can hear the din of dinner service emanating from within the flora. The source? Pangium, a new fine-dining restaurant that opened in June, tucked away in the heart of this 163-year-old UNESCO World Heritage Site. 

Inside, chef Malcolm Lee serves a contemporary tasting menu that spotlights heritage flavors as emblematic of the country’s identity as these tropical surroundings. As a Peranakan, Lee is one of the chefs driving a revival of Singapore’s indigenous cuisine and diverse heritage foods. “I’m quite a traditionalist,” says Lee. “I really liked the way things were done before.”

Peranakans descend from early settlers, many from Southern China, who began migrating to the Indonesian archipelago around the 14th century, where they married local women. “For me, you are a Peranakan if you can trace one of your ancestors to being an offspring of the intermarriage at that time,” says Alvin Yapp, owner and curator of the Peranakan private-home museum The Intan. In Chinese Peranakan family kitchens, Chinese cooking practices coalesced with Malay flavors into a distinct and colorful hybridized cuisine characterized by aromatic, herbaceous dishes—foods like mee siam (rice vermicelli tossed in a spicy gravy), babi pongteh (pork stew cooked with fermented soybeans), and kueh salat (glutinous rice and coconut milk topped with custard)—that were complex and time-consuming to make, but bold and hearty to eat. “Peranakan cuisine started off as home cooking,” Yapp adds, and in the home it largely remained. 

Early in his career, Lee, now 37, felt that young people—many of whom were, like him, among the third generation to build a life in Singapore—were losing touch with the culture and traditional dishes that defined their childhoods. He notes how the city-state has absorbed so much foreign influence throughout history that, for many young Singaporeans, the link to their ancestral roots can feel tenuous. “Any new nation struggles to find its identity, and to assert its identity,” says Christopher Tan, a Singaporean cookbook author of Peranakan descent. (Singapore gained independence on Aug. 9, 1965.) The Peranakan community’s matriarchs, who orchestrated large family meals with care and took great pride in their homestyle recipes, were also fading away, explains Peranakan cookbook author Sharon Wee. As young people saw their grandparents aging, “it coincides with this young generation that realizes, ‘if I don’t learn how to cook this, or if I don’t record this for posterity, I’m going to lose it altogether,’” she says.

In hopes of reinvigorating interest in Peranakan cuisine and heritage, Lee decided to reimagine the traditional flavors he loved. Lee’s first restaurant Candlenut, which he opened in 2010 after culinary school, had been serving Peranakan food for five years when he dreamed up a tasting menu of contemporary takes on classic dishes. The following year, Candlenut won a Michelin star, the world’s first ever awarded to a Peranakan restaurant.

At his new sophomore endeavor Pangium, Lee’s culinary mission has broadened beyond the dishes of his Peranakan community to focus on understanding Singapore’s past and bringing it into the future. In the multicultural fabric of the country’s heritage cooking, Peranakan cuisine is only one component; Chinese, Malay, Indian, and Eurasian dishes also comprise Singapore’s heritage cooking. Though many diners may describe his new tasting menu at Pangium as innovative, Lee is more preoccupied with capturing heritage ingredients, reviving lost dishes, and showcasing them intentionally with a modern flair. “I’m trying to preserve those stories,” he explains. “The whole idea is how to present [dishes in ways] that will connect them back to the past.” On a foundation of respect for inherited tradition, Lee acknowledges the contemporary context of Singapore today. He garnishes the classic deep-fried fish dish ikan chuan chuan with hand-knotted lily buds; he serves sagun, a powdery coconut snack enjoyed by his parents’ generation but rarely seen nowadays, atop a dollop of young coconut sorbet; the nasi ulam, rice mixed with an array of herbs, arrives alongside a collection of side dishes that feature ingredients like fermented durian sambal and banana flower.

Documenting Singapore’s complex past and present is no small undertaking. Chef Damian D’Silva, the MasterChef Singapore judge who opened his latest restaurant Rempapa at the end of 2021, is among the most enthusiastic champions for upholding the vast breadth of Singapore’s heritage dishes. “If no one does that, it’s going to disappear,” says D’Silva. He points out that the country, shaped by centuries of colonialism and immigration, has four official languages—English, Mandarin, Malay, and Tamil—reflecting the diversity of the demographic landscape. At Rempapa, he honors the threads that make up Singapore’s cultural tapestry by cooking a wide array of traditional dishes in homestyle fashion and serving them in family-style portions. The menu is anchored by deeply personal recipes (many from his paternal grandfather and maternal grandmother) that D’Silva, who describes his roots as Peranakan and Eurasian, once enjoyed at his childhood dinner table. He also makes space in the kitchen for other chefs to document dishes from their own heritage. A meal at Rempapa might include everything from kedondong salad (a Peranakan dish of wing beans and makrut lime leaves tossed with peanut brittle and shrimp floss) to Hakka fried pork (Chinese marinated pork belly) to baca assam (Eurasian-style beef cheeks cooked in tangy tamarind water). 

Though D’Silva supports chefs applying newfangled spins to tradition (and has introduced his own fresh takes like limpeh sliders, made with beef brisket cooked in spicy rempah), he sees himself primarily as a custodian of the history and collective memories buoying the foodways of Singapore’s many ethnic groups. He encourages cooks and eaters alike to understand and appreciate that bedrock. “If you don’t do that, then you’re creating a dish out of thin air,” says D’Silva. “And that, to me, makes a dish lose its soul.”

Now, a resurgence of interest in the country’s heritage cooking is well underway. “We grew up in this modernizing Singapore,” says Wee. “I think it came to a point where we realized that we weren’t quite treasuring what we had.” 

The urgency of reviving and preserving these traditions is even greater knowing that the community upholding it is very small—and getting older. Though Chinese descendants make up the majority of the Peranakan community today, the group also includes the Jawi Peranakans, who descend from locally born Muslims with mixed South Asian and Malay ancestry; and the Chitty Melaka, also known as the Peranakan Indians, who descend from locally born children of South Indian merchants and Malays. To illustrate and preserve the special cultural hybridization that created Chitty Melaka food customs, Singaporean home cook Tanya Pillay-Nair is collecting recipes from her community for a cookbook that will be published in 2023.

Though many in the community no longer have direct family ties to India or Malaysia, appreciating the food of one’s heritage can maintain a poignant link to one’s ancestral roots. Pillay-Nair herself has “visceral connections to the past” anchored by vivid memories of her grandmother puttering about in the kitchen, and her family sitting on the floor eating food from banana leaves. “Now that they’ve gone, I’ve had to find ways to retrieve those old recipes,” she says. “There are so many dishes that you would never have heard of,” including many that were new even to Pillay-Nair. “To me, that’s treasure.” 

The pandemic had a hand in encouraging Singaporeans looking to reconnect with the dishes of their childhoods to turn to their kitchens. Limitations on restaurant visits sparked a private home-dining movement throughout the country, with countless locals opening up their own dining rooms to strangers hoping to enjoy home-cooked food in the comfort and safety of a small private group. “When you go to somebody’s house to eat, you feel the love,” says Tinoq Russell Goh, a hairstylist and makeup artist who, alongside his partner Dylan Chan, quietly launched private dinners in their home in 2020. Now, the waitlist is two years long.

As awareness of the diversity of Singapore’s heritage foods continues to build, and as chefs continue to reach diners through contemporary avenues, Yapp, for one, is curious and excited to see where the reinvention will lead. “I don’t think culture should be stuck in time,” he says, pointing out that the Peranakan cuisine of his own background was born from applying modern ingredients and presentation to existing traditions.

One of Lee’s proudest creations is Candlenut’s signature ice cream made from the hydrogen cyanide-containing poisonous seed of the indigenous buah keluak tree (also known as Pangium edule). Making it edible is a lengthy process that involves boiling, burying, and fermenting it before extracting the pasty filling, which Lee’s ancestors thought would work well with chicken and pork. But for Lee, “it’s almost like dark chocolate. A bit bitter, like rich coffee, slightly acidic.” He wondered if it might shine in a dessert. Now, the dish has been on Candlenut’s menu for nine years, served on a bed of salted caramel and embellished with chocolate espuma.

“That’s truly Peranakan,” says Yapp. “We are not afraid to try new things.”

The post The Revival of Singapore’s Indigenous Cuisine appeared first on Saveur.

There’s a running joke among Americans in Paris about Europeans—Parisians especially—signing off the entire month of August. (True enough; I recently tried to reschedule a late July meeting only to be offered a raincheck for September.)

Sure, the joke’s a little tired, considering plenty of people work throughout the summer. But it does seem fair to say that August days are long and languid. Compared to the flurry of activity come September, big cities feel delightfully uneventful. And when it comes to cooking, no one wants to sweat by a stove, which means meals are often as simple and straightforward as dressing up seasonal produce. 

Despite the slightly muted vibe of the month of August, there’s still a lot that the SAVEUR team is excited about in the world of food and drink. We’ve rounded up the events that should be on your radar, as well as some of the forthcoming cookbooks we can’t wait to crack open, for filling the final dog days of summer with plenty of good food and inspiration.  

Smorgasburg — Toronto, Canada

The popular open-air food market that has become an institution in New York City is launching its first-ever international location in Toronto. Located at 7 Queens Quay East, the weekly market will feature dozens of local food vendors like Afrobeat Kitchen and LÀ LÁ Bakeshop. It will run for eight weeks, beginning July 23.  

EVERYBODY EATS — Houston

A novel concept from chefs Tobias Dorzon and Matt Price, EVERYBODY EATS is a multi-city dining experience that marries food and social media. The event’s name is also the very theme here: While in-person attendees will enjoy a multi-course menu, those unable to visit IRL can participate by accessing the chefs’ recipes via their social media. Additionally, part of the proceeds will be donated to charity to help feed families in need. The first dinners ran in Washington, D.C. in July, and the next will be hosted in Houston on Aug. 8. Future dates will be announced soon. 

Claud — New York City

Momofuku Ko alums chef Joshua Pinsky and wine director Chase Sinzer are opening a European-inspired restaurant and wine bar, Claud, in the East Village. According to the pair, their goal is to “create a space that leans on their roots but provides an everyday experience for the neighborhood.” With dishes like swordfish au poivre and half chicken with foie gras drippings, the establishment opens its doors on East 10th St. on Aug. 2.

Octopus Festival — Ourense, Spain

On Aug. 14, between 25,000 and 30,000 kilos (that’s 55,116 to 66,139 pounds) of octopus, or pulpo in Spanish, will be prepared in O Carballiño, a town in Galicia (pulpo capital of the world), for this year’s Octopus Festival. In addition to the main attraction, attendees can try other regional favorites like Cea bread and pies, with plenty of Ribeiro wine.

Prosperity Market Black Business Scavenger Hunt — Los Angeles

Throughout the month of August, a roving farmers market spotlighting Black farmers, food producers, and chefs will host a Black Business Scavenger Hunt across the city of Los Angeles. For the occasion, founders Kara Still and Carmen Dianne have partnered with more than 50 Black entrepreneurs across food, fashion, arts, and entertainment. Each week, Prosperity Market will release clues on its website and Instagram to unlock the designated locations, from wine bars to coffee shops to galleries and more. Participants earn points by visiting the locations, checking in, taking a photo with a QR code, and sharing on Instagram (or via email, for those without social media).

Forever Beirut: Recipes and Stories from the Heart of Lebanon

Beirut, the capital of Lebanon, is known for its unmatched cuisine that combines Arab, Turkish, and French influences. Forever Beirut, a love letter to the city’s vibrant dishes that publishes Aug. 23, is written by renowned chef and award-winning cookbook author Barbara Abdeni Massaad. 

I Am From Here – Stories and Recipes from a Southern Chef

Available on Aug. 16, I Am From Here takes readers on a journey through James Beard Award-winning chef Vishwesh Bhatt’s take on American Southern cuisine. The Indian-born, Mississippi-based chef shares dishes like Peanut Masala–Stuffed Baby Eggplant alongside fried okra tossed in tangy chaat masala, Collard-Wrapped Catfish with a spicy Peanut Pesto, and much more.

Gaby’s Latin American Kitchen

You might know Chef Gaby Melian from her viral videos during her reign as Bon Appétit’s Test Kitchen Manager. Her latest project is Gaby’s Latin American Kitchen, a cookbook aimed at young cooks in which the Buenos Aires-born chef shares her favorite recipes from Latin America, including Colombian-style Arepas con Queso and crepe-like Panqueques with sweet Dulce de Leche. It will be available Aug. 9. 

The Gracias Madre Cookbook

In California, the restaurant Gracias Madre is known for its tasty plant-based Mexican cuisine and exceptional cocktails. Now, the eatery is releasing a cookbook, which drops Aug. 9, featuring recipes from chef Alan Sánchez like Calabaza and Onion Quesadillas, Coliflor with Cashew Nacho Cheese, and Coffee Flan.

Koshersoul: The Faith and Food Journey of an African American Jew

In Koshersoul, James Beard award-winning author and culinary historian Michael W. Twitty examines the crossroads of Jewish and African diaspora cuisine, and explores themes of identity, food, and memory. Part cookbook and part cultural exploration, Koshersoul includes over 50 recipes and is available beginning Aug. 9.

Secrets of a Tastemaker: Al Copeland The Cookbook 

Everybody knows Popeye’s, but the story of the man behind the famous fried-chicken empire has been largely overlooked—until now. Secrets of a Tastemaker shares stories from the life of New Orleans-born founder Al Copeland and includes more than 100 of his closely guarded family recipes. The book is now available for Kindle pre-order, and hardcover pre-order begins Aug. 13.

The post Cultural Calendar: Where to Go and What to Read in August appeared first on Saveur.

Diana Kennedy suffered no fools.

With her passing, we are almost at the end of the expat expert era. The author of nine books on Mexican cuisine, Kennedy relished her outsized reputation as a culinary anthropologist. Her gun, pickup truck, penchant for leather pants, collection of pre-Columbian ceramics, adobe house in Zitácuaro, Michoacán. Her grudges and blood feuds. Yet, she will also be remembered as a champion of rigorous research and accreditation, as well as a proponent of authenticity whose dedication bordered on obsession. She was not kind to anyone who diverged from her canon; she dismissed the food of whole regions and diasporas. Heaven forbid if you put garlic in guacamole or substituted cayenne for chile piquin in pico de gallo.

The inherent quandary of Kennedy’s expertise, as some critics point out, was choosing a cuisine not of her birth, which is why she was so often compared to Julia Child, who also had a reputation for zealous guardianship. But let’s remember that Kennedy needed a paycheck after her husband Paul, a New York Times Latin America correspondent, died in 1967; back then, career choices for single women in their mid-forties had a much lower glass ceiling. Mexico turned out to be the place she loved most, and it gave her a purpose that shaped the rest of her long life—Kennedy’s legacy will be the English-language documentation of the country’s complex and historic dishes. In her book My Mexico City Kitchen, Gabriela Cámara, owner of the restaurant Contramar, devotes an essay to Kennedy, in which the brilliant contemporary chef acknowledges the British-born author as an invaluable reference for traditional Mexican cooking. As the flavors and poetry of this food evolves and travels outward from its homeland, many cooks can thank Kennedy for sharing some of the nuances of this cuisine with a global audience. A few dishes treasured at SAVEUR include a bright salsa de albañil with tomatillos, avocado, and queso fresco; and frijoles de olla, stewed pinto beans served with crema and blistered serrano chiles.

Before she died, Diana Kennedy sold her collection of personal papers, photographs, and other reference materials to the University of Texas, San Antonio. The contents rest in the climate controlled vaults of the Mexican Cookbook Collection at John Peace Library. Most importantly to culinary historians, she gave twelve antiquarian books on Mexican cooking, including the first volume on the topic, Arte Nuevo de Cocina y Reposteria Accomodado al Uso Mexicano, published in 1828. It’s incredibly rare. Only one other copy is known to exist and that remains in private hands. But now,  everyone interested in the roots of Mexican cuisine can access the digital version, and that’s a gift for the ages. 

Vaya con dios, Diana.

The post Diana Kennedy Dies at 99 After a Lifetime Documenting Mexico’s Culinary History appeared first on Saveur.

Generation Z is dining in.

At least according to a new report released by American market research company The NPD Group, which surveyed 18 to 24 year olds in the U.S. about their dining habits. The report reveals that these Gen Z diners make, on average, significantly fewer annual visits to restaurants compared to prior generations at the same age. 

Of course, the pandemic and its associated rounds of lay-offs (to which Gen Z was disproportionately vulnerable) accounts for a significant portion of this generational shift, though The NPD Group notes survey participants cited a host of other factors as well. 

According to the survey findings, “Apparel, footwear, beauty, and technology are among the categories on which young adult Gen Zs spend their money… Many apparel brands have successfully tapped into Gen Z values, like diversity and empowerment, and, as a result, have gained a larger share of their spending.”

An increase in menu prices was also flagged as a major contributing factor for half of the Gen Z subjects surveyed. 

As for the other half, Gen Z diners themselves suggest that it might not be so simple—and some restaurateurs would agree.

“When you look at Fat Choy, everything about it makes it appealing to a Gen Z person,” says Justin Lee, owner and chef of the Lower East Side restaurant which he describes as “kind of Chinese” and vegan. The setup is fast-casual, with most items (like the popular Green Veg Rice Rolls or Sticky Rice Dumplings) going for $10 or less. “It’s a very non-judgmental place, with extraordinarily good food that’s very good for the environment.”

And yet, Lee estimates that only about 10 percent of their customer base is Gen Z.

“I have no idea why. Do they have so much interaction with their phone, they don’t want it with human beings? It’s mind boggling,” he says. “We’re trying to be a progressive restaurant for the world. Those kids can talk about how [culturally aware] they are, but if they’re not voting with their dollars, and they’re buying chicken tendies down the block, it’s hypocritical.”

“I would like to support places in line with the practices I have in my own at-home eating,” muses Isabel Merrell, who just turned 25 and lives in Los Angeles. “But usually when I go out, I’m just looking for places that have really good food and atmosphere.”

Amy Morton, the owner of Found Kitchen, The Barn Steakhouse, and Stolp Island Social in Illinois and the mother of three Gen Z daughters, suspects that the reported reduction in Gen Z diners could be explained by the profound ways in which quarantine affected young adults’ habits. 

“Their time out in the world as an independent being versus the amount of time that was Covid, it’s way more than it would be for someone who is 50 or 60. Their habits could take longer to shift back. And it could be the first time in their life that they had the experience of being a homebody,” she says. 

Corey Smith, 24, lives in San Francisco and cops to maintaining a number of dining habits she adopted out of necessity during quarantine, like taking food to go and eating it outside at Ocean Beach. 

And Merrell says she’s more of a homebody than ever. “People have built more of a relationship with being at home, whether it’s conscious or unconscious. There’s less drive to be out all the time,” she says. “There’s less of a baseline of always doing something, and more of a baseline of doing things on your own.”

For her, this at-home comfort is compounded by her excitement about a garden she began to grow during the pandemic. “It was one of the only fluid, dynamic things I had in my life at the time,” she says. And cooking with what she grew was one of the only ways to infuse her life with excitement, she says. Just recently, she planted a new crop of sungold tomatoes, fairy tale eggplants, and shishito peppers, which she says she looks forward to incorporating into her meals.

Smith says that when she does go out to a restaurant now, she does so with firm intentionality. “I want to get something really good, and something I can’t make at home. If I am going to try somewhere new, it should be an exciting thing.”

(A handful of the Gen Z sources I interviewed told me that quarantine either forced them to learn to cook or strengthened their cooking skills, by way of TikTok and other internet platforms that made it easy to experiment with new recipes.)

Meanwhile, some restaurant owners are grappling with the challenge of attracting this age group in time to convert them to the next generation of regulars. 

At The Clam and also Market Table, two long-standing restaurants in New York City’s West Village, roughly 10 percent of customers are Generation Z, estimates Mike Price, President of Blackfoot Hospitality. 

And when Gen Z diners do come in, it tends to be because they’ve identified either spot as a good location for a first date. “Quickly, those 22 year olds are going to turn into 28 year olds, looking to entertain a group of friends, not just splitting an app on a date,” he says. 

Part of Blackfoot’s strategy for those two restaurants, as well as for its newer addition The Mary Lane, has been to hit social media as strategically as possible. “We’re leaning into those things in a way we haven’t before, because we know the necessity,” he says. 

Blackfoot has experimented with engaging Gen Z influencers to post about the brunch at one of their locations in exchange for a free meal. Price also says that after a TikTok influencer posted about the Happy Hour at another Blackfoot restaurant, The Little Owl, “happy hour blew up” with Gen Z. Price is currently discussing with his team whether it makes sense to host a party around fashion week at The Mary Lane for even more exposure. 

Price also says he has noticed that Gen Z clientele tend to come in for a dish or specialty cocktail that would be cumbersome to execute well at home, like perfectly shucked fresh oysters, which is the one item he won’t deliver on DoorDash. 

“We watch long lines of people lined up for Supreme, or for whatever merch drop. There is this aspect to TikTok and Gen Z that is FOMO-oriented and needs exclusivity, and [they] will wait from sun up to sun down for literally nothing as long as they have validation on their TikTok when they get it,” says Lee.

When asked whether he would pay a TikTok influencer to hype up Fat Choy, Lee barely pauses.

“We probably should have done it already. It’s something we should do as soon as I get off this phone call.”

The post Why Gen Z Is Lukewarm About Dining Out appeared first on Saveur.

Clean eating may have its benefits—like added vitamins and minerals, or an energy or mood boost—but who gets to decide which ingredients are “clean”? That’s the question activist and comedian Jenny Yang is tackling in her recently launched #DinnerWithGoop campaign. 

Yang, along with global food and amino acids manufacturer Ajinomoto, has publicly invited Goop, the lifestyle platform helmed by actress Gwyneth Paltrow that regularly espouses so-called “clean eating,” to an intimate dinner. On the menu? A multi-course feast featuring monosodium glutamate, better known as MSG, from soup to nuts—or rather, from MSG-infused cucumber cocktails to MSG-laced savory dumplings. Yang’s goal is to get Paltrow’s brand to reexamine some of its stances on MSG, an ingredient commonly found in Chinese cuisine. 

Currently, the platform tends to treat MSG as something to be eliminated in order to live one’s best, dewiest life. For example, one post promoting a product called “Clean Cleanse” rattles off various “chemicals” that harm the body, including insecticides, fertilizers, lead, arsenic, and, further down the list, MSG. The cleanse, of course, helps to prevent the inevitable damage from those “recirculating toxins.” Paltrow, who penned the post’s intro, shares in the opening blurb that she just completed the 21-day cleanse (which sells for $485) and reported that “it worked wonders.” 

The message is subtle but clear: MSG is better avoided and dispelled than enjoyed.

“#DinnerwithGoop is an attempt to engage in conversation with them,” Yang told me over the phone. “They’re so influential. It would be powerful to be able to say, ‘This is a thing that you should be aware of if you care about stopping Asian hate.’ Anti-takeout food, anti-Chinese food—it’s all kind of connected in our collective stereotypical brains.” 

The history of anti-MSG sentiment dates back to 1968, when Dr. Robert Ho Man Kwok published a letter to the editor in The New England Journal of Medicine. Dr. Kwok, who was a Chinese immigrant living in the U.S., claimed that eating Chinese American restaurant food caused him to develop an ephemeral numbness in his neck, back, and arms. Dr. Kwok hypothesized that MSG might be to blame. 

Following the publication of the letter, additional voices chimed in, also alleging symptoms, including dizziness and headaches. The New York Times covered the murky issue in a story entitled, “Chinese Restaurant Syndrome’ Puzzles Doctors.” As the article notes, restaurant owners at the time were highly skeptical. Robert Kuan, proprietor of a Chinese restaurant on Mott Street in New York City, told the Times, “The only headaches I get are from running this place and paying taxes.” 

Still, the attitudes surrounding MSG and “Chinese Restaurant Syndrome” had legs. They linger today, even though the FDA recognizes MSG as safe. Per the administration’s website: “Although many people identify themselves as sensitive to MSG, in studies with such individuals given MSG or a placebo, scientists have not been able to consistently trigger reactions.”

Yang, who was born in Taipei and regularly traveled there even after moving to California when she was five years old, has fond memories of her Taiwanese family’s cooking. Food was a means for her to bond with her family, especially the women. “I can remember watching them cook and talking about cooking in a very specific way. It’s not even an obsession, it’s just a part of our culture,” said Yang. 

Many of her grandma’s treasured recipes (none of which were written down, Yang notes with a laugh) fully embraced MSG. Her grandma’s red-braised pork belly strikes a particularly poignant note in her mind’s eye. “I will never forget how good it was—every other delicious red-braised pork belly dish will never compete with the memory I have of my grandmother’s. It probably had more fat than anyone else’s. Maybe it was the MSG, too.”

Blacklisting a specific food or ingredient may seem objective, but to Yang, it’s deeply personal. Though she still speaks Mandarin, she thinks that “for a lot of immigrant kids, when language fails, food is our only link to our culture.” 

Excluding MSG from the boundaries of “clean” eating can feel like an attack. “It’s upsetting to me, as someone who cares about my body and body positivity and not shaming each other for what we eat and how we live our lives.” What’s more, says Yang, to call a particular way of eating “clean” presumes other ways are considered “dirty.” It’s important to be cognizant of which foods carry the latter label—and why. 

Similar to how the introduction of umami into the modern (English) lexicon in the late 1970s changed the way people thought about flavor, Yang wants to usher in another shift in food culture—a watershed moment in which MSG is no longer demonized. 

So far, Goop hasn’t RSVP’d to the dinner invitation. But the brand hasn’t declined either. Yang, who is currently filming The Brothers Sun series for Netflix, is hopeful. 

“It would be really cool if they would step up and be like, ‘This is important to us. We got it wrong.’ Let’s, like, have a conversation. Let’s do it over good food.”

The post The Notoriously Anti-MSG Gwyneth Paltrow Is Invited to a Dinner Celebrating the Seasoning appeared first on Saveur.

Paris’ most emblematic sandwich, the jambon beurre, may be in danger. Last Tuesday, the French Government announced a “plan of action” to reduce the use of nitrites—an additive commonly found in cured meats—in food. The news came on the same day that the country’s national health security agency (ANSES) confirmed a link between the consumption of processed meats containing nitrites and certain types of cancer. 

The agency called for limiting the use of nitrites to what’s “strictly necessary”—as little as possible while not creating adverse health impacts. Nitrites serve as a preservative and prevent the growth of noxious microorganisms. But they also add flavor and color: in the case of baked ham, they lend the meat its characteristic blushing pink hue.

The cured meats industry, unsurprisingly, was quick to respond to the government’s announcement. But their reaction wasn’t quite what one might expect. 

According to Bernard Vallat, president of France’s cured meat industry federation (FICT), the organization was satisfied that the plan calls for reducing nitrites, rather than entirely eliminating them. As he explained on a phone call, the industry in France had been scaling back on nitrites since 2016, from 150 milligrams per kilo (the maximum allowed under European Union regulations) to 100 milligrams. 

“Along with Denmark, we are the country that uses the least nitrites in charcuterie. We did it because we knew we were facing societal pressure, as people are emphasizing more natural products and fewer additives,” said Vallat. In fact, the federation supports reducing the maximum permissible amount even further. “But first, there’s an enormous amount of research to be done.”

Baked ham, such as “Prince de Paris” (considered by many to be the gold standard for French ham), represents about 25% of the charcuterie industry in France. According to Vallat, approximately 15% of those producers are already nitrite-free. Instead, they’re using a newer additive called Prosur, which is made in Spain. But it’s not as effective as nitrites, so products made with it have a much shorter shelf life. The biggest barrier holding up its adoption is that it’s more expensive: “Only huge corporations have been able to use it. Smaller companies can’t afford it for now,” said Vallat.  

Vallat says the biggest consequence of the French Government’s proposed plan of action is a crisis of public perception. Since manufacturers had already been reducing the use of nitrites, the call for their reduction won’t impact production. “The problem is the media campaign that influences consumers and could hurt consumption. They’ll decide to eat something else,” he said. For now, all the industry can do is reiterate its commitment to adhering to government regulations and continuing its quest to minimize nitrites to the extent possible.  

Strictly speaking, the jambon beurre won’t be affected by the French government—not yet, at least. But whether the established cancer link prompts Parisians and visitors to opt for a different sandwich is another question entirely.

The post France Says Non To Nitrites—and the Country’s Meat Industry Is on Board appeared first on Saveur.

On a recent Thursday evening in the West Village, several dozen people gathered at Emmett’s on Grove to eat pizza and drink beer. It would have been like any other night at the popular Manhattan restaurant, but for the price of entry: not a standard reservation, or a forty-minute wait for a walk-in seat, but an NFT, featuring the Hot Papi pizza anthropomorphized with fried-egg eyes and a bacon smile. 

The NFTs were the handiwork of the new company Front of House, which launched in early June with the aim of becoming “the internet’s one-stop-shop for digital collectibles from the best bars and restaurants anywhere.” For now, it offers NFTs linked to special diner privileges at New York hotspots Dame and Wildair, in addition to Emmett’s on Grove. Each can be purchased with cryptocurrencies, or plain-old credit cards. (NFTs, in case you live under a rock, are “non-fungible tokens,” aka unique digital crypto assets that are registered on a blockchain, and increasingly being used to gain access to member-only clubs, services, and subscriptions.) 

To enter the pizza party, guests needed to furnish either a $33 NFT good for that specific event, or one of the heavier-hitting NFTs currently offered by Front of House, such as the $1,000 Fish & Chips Hospitality Club collectible from Dame, designed by Marianna Fierro and redeemable for one table reservation per week until the end of 2022. 

Turnout was strong, with about sixty adults, two children, and one extremely fluffy gray dog. Revelers drank beer from tall glasses adorned with a cheeky FOH logo (sarcastic, colorful 2017-era food mag branding seems to be a strength of the company) and ate as many slices of pizza as they could stomach. One bearded man wandered the room ostentatiously displaying a black tote bag from ApeFest. At 7pm on the dot, party guests were politely ushered out, so regular service could begin. 

According to Front of House co-founder Phil Toronto, a consumer tech investor and Partner at VaynerFund, the company has so far sold about 100 NFTs, including 40 of the pricier, single-restaurant-affiliated tokens. In addition to the $1,000 Dame Hospitality Club collectible, Emmett’s on Grove offers a similar token with reservation access until the end of this year for $300, and Wildair offers a series of Donut Friend collectibles for $200 a pop, which provide (vaguely defined) access to their specialty donut flavors and events, plus a hint at potential extra benefits down the line. Front of House expects its next drop to be a series of NFTs from East Village restaurant Hanoi House.

“The beauty of the opportunity is that we don’t need to decide from conception what perks are offered [with the NFT]. On an ongoing basis, we can experiment with different offerings. There’s the opportunity to establish a meaningful relationship with top supporters of the restaurant,” says Sarah Better, Emmett’s chief of staff. 

At the end of this year, participating restaurants will have the chance to evaluate the NFTs they have issued and either re-up or alter the perks offered, as well as the option to issue a fresh set of tokens. 

Toronto says the revenue from the sale of each collectible is split 80 percent to the restaurant and 20 percent to Front of House (including FOH NFTs traded on the secondary market). His primary goal with FOH is to increase cash flow into restaurants, he says. The company has plans to expand to Los Angeles and Canada next, and would like to create NFTs that offer package deals—for example, a single NFT that offers reservation perks across some five or six separately owned restaurants in a single neighborhood. 

Danielle Vreeland, who lives in Tribeca, tells me she initially bought an Emmett’s Supper Club collectible for her husband as a Father’s Day gift, but decided to keep it for herself. (The NFT holder must be present at any reservation made using the token.) “I would like to see 4 Charles and Carbone create NFTs,” says Vreeland. “That would be beyond.”

The post The New Price to Be a Restaurant Regular? An NFT appeared first on Saveur.