THE
EASY WAY RESTAURATEURS
CAN
PAY WORKERS A GOOD WAGE . . .
AND WHY IT WILL NEVER WORK IN THE U.S.
By
John Mariani
NEW YORK CORNER
FUSHIMA TIMES SQUARE
By John Mariani
GOING AFTER HARRY LIME
CHAPTER 22
By John Mariani
NOTES FROM THE WINE CELLAR
THE DAYS OF WINE AND ROSÉS By John Mariani
❖❖❖
On this week's episode of my WVOX
Radio Show "Almost Golden," on Wed. May
31 at 11AM EDT,I will be
interviewing FRED MINNICK, foremost expert
on American spirits. Go to: WVOX.com.
The episode will also be archived at: almostgolden.
❖❖❖
THE
EASIEST WAY FOR RESTAURANTS
TO PAY WORKERS A GOOD WAGE. . .
AND WHY IT WILL NEVER WORK IN
AMERICA
By John Mariani
M.I.T. publishes a
“Living Wage Calculator” that determines what
is “a minimum
subsistence wage for persons living
in the United States.” Which sounds pretty
grim on all counts, especially since
the number is always higher than the official
minimum wage of $7.25 an hour. In
Coffee County, Alabama, a living wage for a
family oftwo working adults with two children is
$21.29; in Orange County, California, $32.40;
in San Francisco, $35.01. Yet, the waitstaff in most U.S.
restaurants may make only minimum wage and
must depend upon tips to get
anywhere near a living wage after a week’s
work. But the difference between
what a waiter might make at, say, a Denny’s
anywhere, as opposed to a fine
dining restaurant charging a $400 fixed price
for a meal (before wine and tax),
is a huge discrepancy, even if the server is
left a 15% to 20% tip. It is not
at all unusual for a waiter in a top
restaurant in New York, Chicago, Miami,
Washington or Beverly Hills, even in an
upscale steak house where a ribeye
costs $75, to make $100,000 a year—a lot of it
in cash. With pastas now running
$30 and up, it’s easy for a guest to pay $100
per person at an Italian place;
Sushi bars can cost much more. A bartender
alone might earn $500 a night in a
place where drinks are $18 and up. It used to be the case that a diner
would not
tip 15% to 20% on the
liquor and wine part of the bill, but not
anymore. Thus, at a table that runs
up a food bill in Vegas for $1,000, plus
$5,000 for wine, people tip on a
$6,000 bill. Granted, those who can afford to
do so might as well. Tipping has
always been a form of showing off. And,
although expenditures for business
meals (50% deductible) are still not at
pre-Covid levels, tables at very
expensive restaurants around the country are
hard to come by after six o’clock.
Yet, the battle between management and
labor goes on at every level in the restaurant
business, which has a very low
profit margin and is very susceptible to
rising prices in food, utilities and
rent. But here’s the rub: In most of Europe
and much of Asia, a gratuity is not expected
(even though Americans feel
they must leave one). The reason is that being
a waiter in France, Italy,
Germany, Spain, Greece and other countries is
considered a good job with a good
to very good paycheck, along with full
benefits, and, while not disdained, tips
are regarded as something one gets only if in
a lowly profession. Waiters on
the continent consider their profession as
honorable as any. In Japan a tip may even be considered
an insult. It should be noted that many
Europeans pretend they don’t know that
they should tip waiters when visiting
the U.S. In the UK, though not in Australia, a
12% tip has become common, often
added to the bill by the restaurant. Of course, a no-tipping policy based on
paying dining staff a living wage raises
prices on the menu, but consider that
your bill will, usually, be a bit lower when
service is included—as mandated by
law—so that, say, a steak in France costing
$50 will show up on the bill at
$50, including
taxes and a 12% to 14%
service charge; in the U.S. adding a 20% tip
would increase it to $60 plus
tax.And
if you tipped 20% on the bill
in Europe, you’re actually tipping about 30%.
(In France the charge is called servis
compris; in Italy servizio
incluso.) There is often a
cover charge (couvert,
coperto) of
two or three euros added that pays for
tablecloth and bread. Such a system seems entirely sensible
to me and to most people around the world
where a living wage is paid to
workers. Yet, its chances of succeeding in the
U.S. are next to zero, and, in
fact, in those few restaurants that have
tried it, the idea has failed
miserably: people either complained over it
being imposed, or left a big tip
anyway. Often servers oppose it because, as
noted, they can make so much more
money from tips than if paid a living wage.
And the idea is wholly opposed by
the National Restaurant Association, based in
D.C., which vociferously
fought the Raise Act of 2021 “because it
would
raise the federal minimum wage from the
current $7.25 to $15 per hour over five
years and eliminate the tip credit for
tipped employees,”and
because “small businesses cannot easily
absorb a dramatic labor cost increase and
higher wages would lead to employers
cutting back on worker hours and/or
eliminating positions.” The organization
contends that “tipped restaurant employees
on average make between
$19-$25/hour.” Yet, ironically, the NRA
cites the fact that “29 states and 55
municipalities already have a minimum wage
that supersedes the federal minimum
wage.” The
problem on the
consumers’ side is that Americans have gotten
so used to tipping, even to the
point of showing off, that they overwhelmingly
reject the notion of eliminating
tipping. But you can’t have it both ways.
Either employers must pay at least a
living wage—which in most restaurants above
the fast food level would be far
below what servers actually do take home—or
you will continue to see complaints
that the consumer is paying an exorbitant
price for a night out. You can pay a high
price within the European system, too, but the
anxiety and insecurity that
comes with the plopping down of the bill in
the U.S. is completely moot in
Europe. And so the debate may never end, even
as Americans tip more and more to
servers they somehow believe need to be
subsidized when they are making incomes
at or above the median national household
income of $70,000.
❖❖❖
NEW YORK CORNER
Fushimi
Times Square
311
West 43rd Street
212-245-8881
By John Mariani
Nightclub restaurants of enormous
scale, dazzling décor
and long bars stocked with hundreds of
liquors have become as common in major
American cities as they are in Tokyo’s
Ginza. Places like Tao and Buddakan in
New York are as much party venues as they
are dining rooms, while the
London-based chain Hakkasan put more focus
on thefood. This last was for many years a
New York
Theater District fixture, but it has been
taken over by Fushimi Times Square
and completely renovated, with several
dining rooms that put the emphasis on
the food menu along with a slew of specialty
cocktails. Sake
barrels, torii
gates, dramatic Asian artwork are the
backdrop for 230 seats that includes
a splendid bar and a semi-private booth with a
lazy Susan, where my friends and
I sat away from the bustle up front and the DJ
lounge area. It really is all
quite handsome, very colorful and lighting casts
shadows everywhere. Owners Daniel and Ben Chen named the
restaurant for the city of Fushimi in Kyoto,
famed for a series of red torii gates
at the temples of the
Fushimi Inari Shrine.Their
first
Fushimi opened on Staten Island, which is notexactly a crucible of Japanese dining.
The reason was simple: the owners
lived there and wanted to see if it could fill a
niche. It did, and they opened
another and one in Brooklyn. Now Times Square. The menu is
predominantly Japanese, with a large sushi
component, but the owners apparently
want to appeal to an American audience as well,
offering chicken and tomahawk
steak on a very large menu
spread over several pages. It takes some
explaining,
but the very friendly staff is readily up to the
task.Since
I haven’t been to Fushimi when it’s
going full tilt on weekends, I can’t measure how
goes the flow, but on a
midweek summer’s night, the experience was
almost genteel. Given the size of the menu, with four
soups ($7-$16), 14 hot appetizers ($8-$29), five
salads (7-$16), seven cold
appetizers ($16-$18), 13 special rolls
($18-$28), 15 nigiri sushi items ($14-$32 for
an order), four bento boxes ($32),
11 main courses ($32-$54), 8 sushi combinations
($42-$79), 12 hand rolls
($9-$15), five side dishes ($10-$16) and
desserts, if you don’t know exactly
what you’re in the mood for, you’re going to
need some help from the staff. We
stayed with the Japanese offerings. Largely my party put ourselves in the
chef’s trust, beginning with a good-sized bowl
of steamed edamame with Maldon sea salt, and
both tender pork potstickers
(fried or steamed) and vegetable gyoza.
Among the cold apps, we had spicy tuna gyoza
with wasabi tobiko,
unexpected
mozzarella cheese, yuzu tobiko,
a
sweet chili emulsion and jalapeño guacamole withspicy
togarashi
—quite a display, and one meant for sharing.
Silky yellowtail took on added
luster from a yuzu-truffle
soy
vinaigrette.
The real surprise—and a bright idea—was a
sashimi pizza, with a
choice of tuna, salmon or yellowtail on
jalapeño-studded guacamole laced with a
spicy aïoli and dark balsamic glaze atop a
crispy tortilla. I was very much looking
forward to an
array of sushi, which came as a "rainbow roll
Fushimi style,” a California
roll topped with tuna, salmon, whitefish and
avocado. Another, called “Out of
Control,” lived up to its name,composed
of
tuna, salmon and asparagus roll topped with
seared yellowtail salmon and
tuna spicy mayo with a crispy rice pearl. More
sushi was sent forth from the
bar, 12 pieces in the “Chef’s Sushi” and 18 in
his sushi and sashimi platter. The variety of flavors, textures and
condiments was delightful,although
the
same three fish species—salmon, tuna,
yellowtail— kept repeating.I
would have preferred a selection from the à
la carte sushi category that listed maguro,
unagi, ikura
salmon roe, hotate
scallop, botan ebi spot shrimp and uni sea
urchin. Fushimi
would not be out of place in the
Ginza, and its young clientele is the
same. The sushi and sashimi may have an
assembly line cast, but then, you’re not paying
$500 and up to sit at a cramped
sushi counter. It would be difficult not to have
a lot of fun here and a good
deal of sake from a stellar list.
Open for lunch and
dinner daily.
❖❖❖
GOING AFTER
HARRY LIME
By John
Mariani
To read previous
chapters of GOING AFTER HARRY LIME go
to thearchive
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“It
was not the kind of
surroundings in which any one with free will —
if such a man existed — would
have chosen to await death.”—Graham Greene, The Honorary Consul
(1973).
Kim Philby’s
apartment was on the sixth
floor, up a winding stairwell. Rufina Philby (left)
was already waiting outside the
apartment in front of the studded leather door,
beckoning them to come in but
not even saying “hello.” “Come
in. My husband is in the bedroom and will be out
in a
few minutes.”She did not offer them
anything to drink. The place smelled of curry
spices and bacon. Katie and David
heard Kim Philby coughing loudly in the next room. The apartment was small and cramped by all
the furniture,
books and memorabilia acquired over decades.
David’s policeman’s eyes ran quickly
over all he could see; Katie’s surveyed it all
slowly. The
furniture was cheap and more or less
functional. An old radio with ivory buttons sat on
a low table. On another, an
old manual typewriter. Above a tatty sofa in a
flowery fabric hung two frayed
animal furs, perhaps Siberian wolf pelts, and
below them two antique pearl
inlaid Afghan dueling pistols. Against the
remaining wall were shelves of
books, which Katie perused while David stood at
the rear window looking down at
the street at a school playground where a few
children were kicking around a
soccer ball. The shelves seemed stocked in equal measure
with Russian and
English books, including more than a dozen volumes
of the Cambridge Modern History.There were scores of mystery novels—Arthur
Conan Doyle, Raymond
Chandler, Graham Greene—and Katie noticed a copy
of Anthony Trollope’s 1869
novel He
Knew He Was Right, and
jotted it down in her note pad. There was a photo
of Philby with what appeared
to be his granddaughter. Still standing, David said to the women,
“Yesterday, Mrs. Philby, you said it was unlikely
your husband would want to
speak with us. May I ask what might have changed
his mind?” The woman put out her lower lip, blinked
for a few seconds,
then said, “My husband is dying. He has very
little time left. He believes it
is time to reveal what his comrades did to him.
They cannot hurt him any
further.” She lit a cigarette and looked off towards
the window, not
at the Americans. “You
know that when he escaped to Moscow,
my husband—we had not yet met—was told he would be
treated like a hero. We have
an expression—kak syr v
masle—like
cheese in butter. Instead, he was treated like
someone worth nothing to them.
Even when he tried to help them, they pushed him
away. Then they told the world
he was dead and have hidden the truth ever since.
As if he had never existed.
My husband needs to speak with someone. He decided
it would be you.And if you
betray him,”—the woman shrugged—“nothing will
change and he will soon be dead.” Katie didn’t know if she felt sorry at all
for Philby but
was touched by Rufina’s grief about her husband,
whom by all accounts she truly
loved. David was suspicious of the woman’s
explanation of why Philby agreed to
see Katie and him.Katie said, putting
her hand on her heart, “Well, I can promise you we
will not reveal anything
your husband doesn’t want us to.” At that a voice came from
behind: “Well, well, so you are
the two Americans who think I’m Harry Lime!” Katie and David turned to find Kim Philby
before them and
immediately recognized how the man in better days
had impressed men and cast a
spell on women. He was tall, paunchy now, with a
British upper class lilt in
his baritone voice. His eyes, behind thick
glasses, were as blue as had been
reported, his nose patrician, his hair thinner but
brushed back at the sides.
The face was flabby now, but had this not been a
walk-up apartment in a
decrepit section of Moscow, Katie and David might
have taken him for a retired
British military man, his jaw out, with a mouth
that barely hinted at a
welcoming smile. All he lacked was a
double-breasted blue blazer with
regimental necktie and campaign ribbons and medals
pinned on it. Instead, he wore gray corduroy slacks and a
loose plaid shirt
with its cuffs rolled back to his elbows.He offered the Americans a cigarette but
they said no thank you. Katie
mumbled, “I don’t smoke,” realizing it was bad
form to sound superior to a man
obviously dying of lung cancer. Philby took one
out of the pack and lit up,
taking a long draw then coughing with a congested
wheeze. “I see you’ve met my wife,” he said.
“Rufina, did you offer
these Americans some tea?” which was a signal for
her to leave the room for a
while. “Sit down, sit down. I’m afraid the springs
on that couch have seen
better days but then haven’t we all?” Philby backed into his
favorite chair and flicked his
cigarette into an ashtray.“So,
how is
my friend Lentov? Enjoying the lap of luxury as I
am? Poetic justice, you know.
Me here, him there, on different sides.” David told him about their meeting with
Lentov, deciding not
to mention what Southey had told them. Katie asked
if she could use her pocket
recorder and Philby just waved his hand in
consent. “So,” said Philby, “what do you want to
know?” His fist was
at his lips to stifle another cough. “All about
Graham and me and Holly Martins
and Harry Lime? And how I even fooled Graham all
those years. He never forgave
me, but he also never stopped being my friend.” David
spoke first. “How did you feel about betraying
Greene?” Philby
let out a light chuckle and said, “Actually, I
felt
worse about that than I did about spying for
Russia. But Graham understood my
motives better than anyone.” He picked up a book on the table next to
his chair. It was
the memoir he’d written, My Silent War.
He opened it to the Introduction and handed the
book to Katie. “Would you be so
kind as to read that, Miss Cavuto? There, where
I’ve put a little paper tab. It
should tell you something.” Katie took the book and saw the
Introduction had been
written by Greene: “The
end, of course, in his eyes is held to justify the
means, but this is a view
taken, perhaps less openly, by most men involved
in politics, if we are to
judge them by their actions, whether the
politician be a Disraeli or a Wilson.
He betrayed his country–-yes, perhaps he did, but
who among us has not
committed treason to something or someone more
important than a country? In
Philby's own eyes he was working for the shape of
things to come from which his
country would benefit." David felt revulsion
at what he’d just heard but said
nothing. Philby’s way of justifying his treason
was to have someone else say
it, in this case the friend he had lied to and
betrayed without a backward
glance. Katie shared David’s reaction while trying
to fathom Greene’s own
blindness in the matter of Kim Philby. Katie was also surprised by Greene’s use of
the phrase “the
shape of things to come,” which she felt sure he’d
lifted—on purpose—from the
science fiction novel from 1933 of the same name
by H.G. Wells in which he
foretold World War II, then a descent of the
modern world into chaos, followed
by a benevolent dictatorship and finally a Utopian
vision for the future. Could
someone as jaundiced about modern society as was
Greene think that was
what Philby had in mind by
betraying the West? There
were so many aspects of the Philby story she
wanted to
get into but knew her time with him was going to
be brief, perhaps ended
abruptly if she struck the wrong nerve. David was
perfectly willing to let
Katie handle the interview along the lines of the
Greene-Philby connection. Philby suddenly had a coughing fit that
lasted half a
minute, phlegmy, shaking him and making him gasp.
His wife arrived carrying a
tea tray that she put down, then began to pat her
husband on his back but said
nothing until he recovered from the fit, asking if
he was going to have some
tea with the Americans. Philby just waved his
hand, still taking deep breaths. The
tea was served Russian style, in glasses not cups,
without sugar but with cherry preserves on the
side. The pouring and stirring
allowed Philby to recover and begin speaking,
flicking cigarette ashes from his
trousers. Like
Lentov, Philby had a rambling story to tell,
whether or
not it had anything to do with Graham Greene. It
was told without chronology,
flipping back and forth to pre-war England, then
to Beirut and Moscow and back
again.Philby
apparently had no desire
to issue any apologies, though it was clear that
he felt betrayed by his
Russian comrades even as he made fun of his current circumstances. He
reminisced about what he did miss in
England—including his favorite
marmalade—and how he listened to the BBC
broadcasts on radio when its signal
was clear enough to receive. He asked about
certain figures in his past, not
expecting that Katie and David would have any
knowledge of them, and tried to
sound resigned to his fate. “I forget who
wrote it,” he said, “I think it was John
Kenneth Galbraith (right), whom I met once.
He said, ‘Under capitalism, man exploits
man. Under communism, it’s just the opposite.’ A
little pat but largely true.
The difference is that neither capitalism nor
communism has ever worked as it’s
supposed to. As soon as the flag is raised in
either camp, it becomes soiled by
those who wish to use it for their own purposes,
and those purposes are always
venal.” “Are you saying you were naïve when you
sided with
communism?” asked David. “Probably, but I was a true
believer. One look at Britain’s
arrant colonial policies will dash any thought of
capitalism working for those
colonized. Perhaps I was really more of a
Socialist, though that’s not really a
belief, more like a notion. At Cambridge everyone
we knew trifled with Marxism,
and half of those were homosexual. Burgess (left)
was flagrant about it, which was one
of the reasons he couldn’t stand living in Moscow,
because he’d be arrested as
a pervert. He did have a lover, though, then his
liver gave out. Anthony Blunt
(right) was one, too; hung with the arts
crowd and refused the KGB’s help squirreling
him out of England.Said he’d rather die
shivering in London than freezing to death in
Moscow.”
THE DAYS OF WINE
AND
ROSÉS ARE HERE
By John Mariani
Anytime
Is a Good Time for a Good
Rosé But They Take On a Special Appeal in Summer
By
John Mariani
Duty-bound
to do an annual wine article
about rosé wines at the beginning of summer, all
wine writers, including
myself, approach the job with mixed feelings.
First, because rosés are
perfectly delightful year round and go better
with some foods than many whites
or reds do. Second, the rosé market has expanded
so rapidly that there is far
more choice, but also far more poor quality to
choose from—not to mention the
truly awful treacly sweet versions that have
always been around. I
remain something of a traditionalist when it
comes to rosés, meaning I am most
fond of those made in Provence and the south of
France, where they are produced
by crushing red grapes and then allowing the
juice to remain on the skins for
24 to 48 hours. The longer the skin contact, the
deeper hued the wine will be.
Grenache is the predominate grape used in
Provence, while those of Listrac in
the Haut-Médoc are also well regarded. Often
very dry, Southern French wines
have the distinct aroma of rose flowers. Other,
usually lesser rosés, are made by pressing white
and red grapes together, which
results in wines difficult to describe as being
consistent. Too often modern
rosé tastes watery, or like fairly bland white
wines; others sell well on the
basis of their lovely colorations.
SUSANA BALBO SIGNATURE
ROSÉ DEL
VALLE DE UCO 2019 ($22)—Balbo is one of
Argentina’s premier wine producers who
prove they are exemplary with every varietal and
style they adopt, like this
rosé made from 60% Malbec and 40% Pinot Noir—both
red grapes—which are
harvested, refrigerated and separately pressed.
Given its composition, the wine
has a slightly fuller body than many other rosés,
though still at only 12.5%
alcohol. It has fresh fruitiness with some
hazelnut notes, and would be
excellent with grilled salmon.
FRESCOBALDI
ALÌE 2021 ($21)—Alìe
is one of the sea nymphs of Greek myth, and this
is a good seafood wine. Made
from Syrah and Vermentino as an I.G.T. Toscana
appellation, it is from 2021,
spending three months in stainless steel, so the
age gives it a nice shade of
coral pink and richer flavors, arriving at 12%
alcohol. The grapes are softly
pressed and spend 12 hours or more on the must and
the wine retains mineral
notes along with a pleasing citrus zest.
FIDDLEHEAD CELLARS
“PINK FIDDLE” ROSÉ 2022 ($32)—This is the estate’s
first foray into rosé, a
single-vineyard offering from Santa Barbara
County’s Santa Rita Hills.
Winemaker Kathy Joseph
ferments Pinot Noir in stainless steel from
de-stemmed
grapes. It’s a pricey rosé but, if not unique, the
use of Pinot Noir gives it a
finer intensity than those made from white grapes,
and there’s plenty of fruit
here to go with cheeses of every kind, even blue.
VIÑA
LEYDA ROSÉ 2022 ($14)—Made
in vineyards near the cool coast of Chile’s Leyda
Valley, this, too, is made
from 100% Pinot Noir grapes grown in soil that has
a good deal of red clay and
some granite, so it has both a mellowness and a
faint edge of minerality.
Fermentation was about 17 days in stainless and
the juice was taken off its
lees, then aged for seven months to help the
flavors develop and acids balance.
With 13% alcohol it goes well with shellfish of
all kinds and nicely with
chicken on the grill.
FRANCIACORTA ROSÉ
SPARKLING ($38)—The interest in sparkling rosés
has picked up a good deal of
momentum as people realize that modern examples
are not like those party
bubblies like Riunite and Mateus.
Franciacorta has been at it for a long while
and is very popular in Italy and Europe, to be
enjoyed just about any time
before, during or after a meal, including with
dessert. It’s a blend whose make-up differs each
year of
Chardonnay, Pinot Nero, Pinot Bianco and Erbamat.So
there’s a good deal more complexity here
than in competitors’ wines, and its versatility
makes it ideal for dishes based
on vegetables.
THE
MILL KEEPER 2022 ($21)—Here’s
a bold attempt at combining 54% Cabernet
Sauvignon, 13% Cabernet Franc, 13%
Merlot, 9% Petit Verdot, 7% Grenache, 2% Malbec
and 2% Petite Vera Sirah—a
blend that sounds like a Bordeaux-Rhone oddity.
Remarkably, it has not only a
pleasingly pink color and appealing 13% alcohol,
but the Gamble Family
Vineyards in the Napa Valley has produced
something quite elegant and certainly
tasting like a light red that can go well with
pork, veal or pesto.
❖❖❖
THE
SOUND OF ONE HAND CLAPPING
"Thank
God, Veggie Burgers With Actual Vegetables Are
Making a Comeback" By
Bettina Makalintal, EATER.com (5/2/23)
❖❖❖
Any of John Mariani's
books below may be ordered from amazon.com.
The Hound in Heaven
(21st Century Lion Books) is a novella, and
for anyone who loves dogs, Christmas, romance,
inspiration, even the supernatural, I hope you'll find
this to be a treasured favorite. The story
concerns how, after a New England teacher, his wife and
their two daughters adopt a stray puppy found in their
barn in northern Maine, their lives seem full of promise.
But when tragedy strikes, their wonderful dog Lazarus and
the spirit of Christmas are the only things that may bring
his master back from the edge of despair.
“What a huge surprise turn this story took! I was
completely stunned! I truly enjoyed this book and its
message.” – Actress Ali MacGraw
“He had me at Page One. The amount of heart, human insight,
soul searching, and deft literary strength that John Mariani
pours into this airtight novella is vertigo-inducing.
Perhaps ‘wow’ would be the best comment.” – James
Dalessandro, author of Bohemian
Heart and 1906.
“John Mariani’s Hound in
Heaven starts with a well-painted portrayal of an
American family, along with the requisite dog. A surprise
event flips the action of the novel and captures us for a
voyage leading to a hopeful and heart-warming message. A
page turning, one sitting read, it’s the perfect antidote
for the winter and promotion of holiday celebration.” – Ann
Pearlman, author of The
Christmas Cookie Club and A Gift for my Sister.
“John Mariani’s concise, achingly beautiful novella pulls a
literary rabbit out of a hat – a mash-up of the cosmic and
the intimate, the tragic and the heart-warming – a Christmas
tale for all ages, and all faiths. Read it to your children,
read it to yourself… but read it. Early and often. Highly
recommended.” – Jay Bonansinga, New York Times bestselling
author of Pinkerton’s War,
The Sinking of The Eastland, and The Walking Dead: The Road To
Woodbury.
“Amazing things happen when you open your heart to an
animal. The Hound in
Heaven delivers a powerful story of healing that
is forged in the spiritual relationship between a man and
his best friend. The book brings a message of hope that can
enrich our images of family, love, and loss.” – Dr. Barbara
Royal, author of The
Royal Treatment.
Modesty forbids me to praise my own new book, but
let me proudly say that it is an extensive
revision of the 4th edition that appeared more
than a decade ago, before locavores, molecular
cuisine, modernist cuisine, the Food Network and
so much more, now included. Word origins have been
completely updated, as have per capita consumption
and production stats. Most important, for the
first time since publication in the 1980s, the
book includes more than 100 biographies of
Americans who have changed the way we cook, eat
and drink -- from Fannie Farmer and Julia Child to
Robert Mondavi and Thomas Keller.
"This book is amazing! It has entries for
everything from `abalone' to `zwieback,' plus more
than 500 recipes for classic American dishes and
drinks."--Devra First, The Boston Globe.
"Much needed in any kitchen library."--Bon Appetit.
Now in Paperback,
too--How Italian Food Conquered the
World (Palgrave Macmillan) has won top prize from the
Gourmand
World Cookbook Awards. It is
a rollicking history of the food culture of
Italy and its ravenous embrace in the 21st
century by the entire world. From ancient Rome
to la dolce
vita of post-war Italy, from Italian
immigrant cooks to celebrity chefs, from
pizzerias to high-class ristoranti,
this chronicle of a culinary diaspora is as
much about the world's changing tastes,
prejudices, and dietary fads as about
our obsessions with culinary fashion and
style.--John Mariani
"Eating Italian will
never be the same after reading
John Mariani's entertaining and
savory gastronomical history of
the cuisine of Italy and how it
won over appetites worldwide. . .
. This book is such a tasteful
narrative that it will literally
make you hungry for Italian food
and arouse your appetite for
gastronomical history."--Don
Oldenburg, USA Today.
"Italian
restaurants--some good, some glitzy--far
outnumber their French rivals. Many of
these establishments are zestfully described
in How Italian Food Conquered the World, an
entertaining and fact-filled chronicle by
food-and-wine correspondent John F.
Mariani."--Aram Bakshian Jr., Wall Street
Journal.
"Mariani
admirably dishes out the story of
Italy’s remarkable global ascent
to virtual culinary
hegemony....Like a chef gladly
divulging a cherished family
recipe, Mariani’s book reveals the
secret sauce about how Italy’s
cuisine put gusto in gusto!"--David
Lincoln Ross,
thedailybeast.com
"Equal parts
history, sociology, gastronomy, and just
plain fun, How Italian Food Conquered the
World tells the captivating and delicious
story of the (let's face it) everybody's
favorite cuisine with clarity, verve and
more than one surprise."--Colman Andrews,
editorial director of The Daily
Meal.com.
"A fantastic and fascinating
read, covering everything from the influence
of Venice's spice trade to the impact of
Italian immigrants in America and the
evolution of alta cucina. This book will
serve as a terrific resource to anyone
interested in the real story of Italian
food."--Mary Ann Esposito, host of PBS-TV's
Ciao
Italia.
"John Mariani has written the
definitive history of how Italians won their
way into our hearts, minds, and
stomachs. It's a story of pleasure over
pomp and taste over technique."--Danny Meyer,
owner of NYC restaurants Union Square
Cafe, The Modern, and Maialino.
MARIANI'S VIRTUAL GOURMET
NEWSLETTER is published weekly. Publisher: John Mariani. Editor: Walter Bagley. Contributing Writers: Christopher
Mariani, Misha Mariani, John A. Curtas, Gerry Dawes, Geoff Kalish.
Contributing
Photographer: Galina Dargery. Technical
Advisor: Gerry
McLoughlin.