My T Magazine blog rss feeds serve little purpose beyond adding to my future likelihood of getting carpal tunnel syndrome. I scroll and scroll, finger on the click wheel, waiting for a headline and one-line description to pounce on.
“The Curious Case of Samuel's Button: Samuel Gassmann set out to make a documentary on men's clothing, and ended up launching a collection of cufflinks.”
“Fiddling: Fiddleheads are good vegetables with real appeal, but they're not as flexible as some produce.”
I almost want to read this because Jurassic-looking fiddleheads creep the hell out of me. Maybe Peter Meehan will change my mind? But ultimately, no, not clicking.
“Latin Flair: In São Paulo, a young class of chefs is mixing cuisines and techniques and taking Brazilian cooking to a higher level.”
Ok, I’d like to hear more about chefs in Latin America. Do we know any except Francis Mallmann and Gastón Acurio? São Paulo’s cuisine already got The New York Times treatment last year, but I’ll admit that none of the chefs’ names stuck with me. I reluctantly click.
But what stands out in the T Magazine paragraph is only peripherally related to cooking. What to make of Bolivan chef, Checho Gonzáles? “Each of his knuckles is inked with the image of a popular local bar snack.” I don’t know what Brazilian bar snacks might be, but that’s one of the awesomest tattoos I can think of even if it sounds like something only an Asian girl could pull off. And with no photographic evidence, I only had my imagination.
Thankfully, I got my answer on Eater when they provided a photo (above) in a tangential post. Pizza and sushi! I hope one of those is a pão de queijo.