The Ides of March – Brutus’ Skewered Parmesan and Bologna with Aged Balsamic Vinegar
“Let’s carve him as a dish fit for the gods…” Julius Cesar 2, 1 Shakespeare had a thing for Italian regional cuisine, with many of his …
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…recipes and flavors tied to famous writings and artists and musicians and politicians and athletes and chefs and, well, you get the point.
“Let’s carve him as a dish fit for the gods…” Julius Cesar 2, 1 Shakespeare had a thing for Italian regional cuisine, with many of his …
Contain an incredibly large, dense mass in your kitchen. Hide it behind a door that says ‘loo’ or ‘bathroom’. Invite a dumb undergrad over, (any faculty will do though economics would be preferable,) telling him or her you want them to take part in a revolutionary experiment. When he gets to your house, have him sit down and then slowly explain to him about black holes. (Don’t worry if you make a mistake or two. He’s dumb, so he’ll never know the difference.) Pour him plenty of beer as you do. When he asks to use the loo, show him to the door behind which you’ve hidden the black hole – but remember to give him the pasta dough before he steps inside.
Though a simple enough dish to make, timing, as nearly always when preparing fish, is essential. The first thing is to take sole filets and lay them flat. On top of each filet place a thin slice of prosciutto. Role the layer whole into loose tubes, fish on the outside, and secure them using wooded skewers or toothpicks. Next, peel and seed the tomatoes and hand puree them into a lovely, fragrant pulp.
“To fry, or not to fry” is probably the most famous recipe line in the world and its chef perhaps the most widely interpreted. When …
t’s unclear just where Shakespeare’s popular ‘Weird Sisters’ soup chefs came from, or if they were sisters at all, given their physical disparity. Some commentators say they were British natives, others that they emigrated from Sweden or Norway while a few even mention the Mediterranean. In any case, what is clear is that at some point they started working in the kitchen at Holinshed’s Soup, Steak and Salads in Brodie, Scotland.
A marvelous dish! Exotic, subtle flavors and somewhat complex, with just a hint of the Casbah, yet familiar enough to taste comfortingly of home.
Wait for a massive thunderstorm. After peeling and seeding the tomatoes put them in a metal pot and hoist them up the tower and under the lightning rod you pre-installed on the roof. As you wait for them to be repeatedly electrocuted, hammer some dissonant chords on the organ. And laugh hysterically, like this: HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!
Click on the metronome. Grab the raven by its feet and hang it upside down in front of the window. (Never mind it’s screaming.) Fill the pot with water and place it on a back burner for later. Turn on the oven.
…if music be the food of love.
The windows of the kitchen are foggy now with the steam that has condensed on them while you were cooking. It’s almost 8:30, time for dinner. You take the big serving dish out into the dining room where everyone is waiting. As you serve out the pasta, you notice that the sauce is slightly watery. It’s supposed to be, making the noodles appear to float just above the reddish pools of sauce beneath. And since the individual bowls are translucent black, the reddish pools themselves also appear to float in the bowls above the blackness as if hovering over a void. You sit down at the head of the table. Then you twirl some of the bucatini onto a fork to taste them. After swallowing you realize ‘Hey, I’ve just eaten some of Calvino’s floating bucatini!’