Pecker was a prize from the shooting gallery at the traveling funfair, a batshit rooster that roosted in the apple tree in our yard. Pecker had the look of the just-saved, and his neck-wrung feathers, sparse, spiked, seeming wet, suited the bird’s mean disposition. He was hardly a prize – more likely a giveaway at the bucket-ball stall before the carnival folk moved on. Someone must have taken the rooster for a hen and expected fresh eggs when the rooster wasn’t even good at rooster things. He crowed at night and woke our mother – woke us, too. Wait for the sun, you pecker! If only he were good eating, our father said, but Pecker would have tasted foul – ha, ha. Our father, the joker, said Pecker was good for a laugh. That Pecker. His comb looked chawed and his red eyes mad. Try to cross the yard – our backyard – and he would flap down and scuttle after and peck at our legs and our feet. And it hurt – he picked our little sister’s laces loose and made her cry.
‘Indigenous chefs will tell you that their dishes are Indigenous, not Canadian. With the plate, these chefs demonstrate that the food is the land, and that the land is still theirs.’
Zoe Tennant profiles Andrew George, a Wet’suwet’en chef.
Cooking from Memory
‘Each bite exploded temporally, an exquisite blend of past and future that put you firmly in the present moment.’
Barclay Bram on Sichuanese cuisine.
‘This might seem a lot of biographical significance to attribute to a single bad experience with a shepherd's pie.’
John Lanchester on what to eat during winter.
Typical Global and Typical Local Food
‘The banana is a gentle, sweet, ingenuous child. The plantain is a more complex adult.’
Héctor Abad Faciolince on Colombian food, translated from the Spanish by Anne McLean.
Fatima Bhutto | My Other Thing
‘The team here makes 3,500 to 4,000 pieces of viennoiserie a week. That’s forty-four kilos of dough a day, one third of which is butter.’
Fatima Bhutto learns to make the perfect croissant.