Tag Archive: Film

Eat Drink Camera Action!

Monday, May 5, 19970

Q San Francisco
May 1997
Pages 42-43

Eat Drink
Camera
Action!

eatdrinkWhile I’m sure that with some effort I, or any of you, could come up with a film that does not include some form of eating or drinking, I am, for the moment, at a loss to come up with one. Edibles and inebriates are more a part of our on-screen entertainment than are sex and violence. Has anyone done a study on the deleterious effects on our nation’s youth?

Of course, food and drink, especially wine, have their place in the world of the erotic as we have chatted about in past columns. Two of the most erotic scenes (one gay, one straight) I’ve seen on film both involve ingestibles: the champagne-sex vignette in My Beautiful Launderette and the egg yolk-orgasm clip (trust me, you have to see it) in Tampopo.

What we eat and drink has even been at the heart of some of the most fun (in my humble opinion) films out there. Babette’s Feast would have been an exceedingly tedious and long film about a lonely woman in the middle of nowhere doing nothing, were it not for the feast in question. Instead we have a slow build that involves much poking and prodding of foodstuffs, simmering, sizzling and just generally heating up of dishes, and a long, caressing, idyllic repast that makes the whole lengthy process worthwhile.

Night of the Comet manages to create an entire dramatic saga of sex and romance, danger and violence, while all the while, propping the whole thing up, is a single, solitary, bottle of rare wine. Try finding a film of the “black-and-white era” that doesn’t involve champagne at some point or another, starting right back with the first Academy Award-winning film, Wings, a silent film that includes an entire champagne seduction scene with bubbly special effects.

Not so long ago, Like Water For Chocolate splashed across our screens with a series of sensuous recipes that intertwined with the characters’ lives as they grew from small children to adults. Dishes that created flaming passion mingled with plates of sorrow and joy. Whether it was holiday peppers stuffed with meat and walnuts, a plate of molé, or even the now famed quail with rose petal sauce, we even got instructions on how to make them.

One of my favorites, even apart from that incredible egg yolk scene, is the Japanese film Tampopo. First, it’s just plain fun. One part “spaghetti western” (see, we even use food terms for film styles), one part “Kung Fu,” and all parts spoof, this film is the search for the holy grail – in the form of the perfect bowl of noodle soup. Exalted beyond, well, beyond anything a bowl of noodle soup probably ever rated, we learn about everything from proper water temperature, to the making of good soup stock, to the right way to knead your noodle…so to speak.

And on that note, I’ve decided to offer you my own version. It will not be as decorative as a bowl of noodle soup from your favorite noodle shop. It will not even be particularly Japanese in character. Think of it as a nice Jewish boy from the Midwest meets Tokyo… somewhere.

My Noodle Soup

Roasted vegetable stock:
2 yellow onions
2 carrots
2 stalks of celery
2 red bell peppers
2 parsnips
1 turnip
1 rutabaga
2 heads of garlic
2 bay leaves
2 teaspoons black peppercorns
2 pieces star anise
1 small piece ginger root
1 cinnamon stick
1/4 cup olive oil
5-6 quarts of cold water

Wash but do not peel vegetables. Cut all vegetables in half and put in a roasting pan with the spices. Toss with the oil. Roast in a 350 F oven for 45 minutes, flipping them around occasionally. They should be softened and somewhat browned – don’t let them burn. Put all the roasted veggies into a large stockpot and cover with water by 1 inch. Heat over medium heat until the water just starts to simmer -you don’t want a real full boil. Reduce the heat to the minimum setting you can get away with and let the stock infuse at least 6 hours. I generally let mine go for close to 24 hours. Strain the stock and discard the solids. You should end up with about 3 quarts of stock.

The noodles, et al:
Soba noodles (buckwheat)
4 egg yolks
2 scallions, thinly sliced
Light soy sauce
Pinch of saffron threads

For noodle soup, I tend to like simplicity. If you like it more elaborate, you can add additional things like little slices or shreds of roasted meats, sliced and lightly cooked vegetables, or whatever your heart desires. If you don’t like the buckwheat noodles, substitute whatever kind of noodles are your favorite. Bring some water to a boil and cook the noodles until “al dente,” soft but still just a touch firm. Meanwhile, reheat the soup stock just to the point it starts to boil. Place noodles in bowls. Pour stock over each just to cover. Top with chopped scallions. Carefully float an egg yolk in each bowl on top of the noodles. Garnish with 3-4 saffron threads per bowl. Serve with soy sauce on the side and let each guest season to taste. This should be just about right for four servings. Slurp to your heart’s content.

Q San Francisco magazine premiered in late 1995 as a ultra-slick, ultra-hip gay lifestyle magazine targeted primarily for the San Francisco community. It was launched by my friends Don Tuthill and Robert Adams, respectively the publisher and editor-in-chief, who had owned and run Genre magazine for several years prior. They asked me to come along as the food and wine geek, umm, editor, for this venture as well. In order to devote their time to Passport magazine, their newest venture, they ceased publication of QSF in early 2003.

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Passion foods

Wednesday, March 5, 19970

Q San Francisco
March 1997
Pages 42-43

passionfoodsIn preparing to write this column I turned first to that indispensable aid, the VCR. Finding a direct link was easy as I watched with eyes as glazed as candied carrots the preparations in Like Water for Chocolate; Babette’s Feast; Eat Drink Man Woman; and The Wedding Banquet. Passion Fish, while enjoyable, was not as helpful; okra gumbo may inspire some to great heights, but I doubt they are heights of passion. Pedro Almodovar’s Labyrinth of Passion gave me some amusing ideas, though few of them were about food. A young Antonio Banderas as a sort of spindly Islamic bloodhound was kind of fun.

Passion and food have been inextricably linked throughout the ages. Whether as a means of seduction – “The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach” – as an aphrodisiac – “it may be true that a diet based on food and drinks that expand the blood vessels predisposes one to amorous behavior” – or as a simple sex aid as in the case of whipped cream in a can.

Tomatoes were once known as “love apples.” Passion fruit is, well, passion fruit. Generally, those foods thought to engender passion were those that were expensive, and therefore, likely to impress the object of one’s desire. Truffles, foie gras, caviar, champagne, flamingo tongues; that sort of thing. Exotica were also fair game, especially in the world of spices where the filaments of 70,000 or more saffron crocuses are required to put together a pound of saffron, or where Chinese merchants skim the intestinal secretions of sperm whales off the surface of tropical seas to make ambergris. Personally, I have some ideas that involve homemade nachos and a two-liter bottle of RC Cola, but those will have to wait for another column.

My favorite foods for passion are lobster, caviar, and roses. I love Mediterranean cooking, whether Italian, Spanish, Moroccan or elsewhere. Somewhere along the line it became necessary to put all of these together into one dish:

Passion Risotto

2 lobsters, (approximately
1 pound each, preferably live)
4 tablespoons olive oil
2 large tomatoes
1 medium onion
1 bunch scallions
6 dried apricots, chopped
2 ounces pistachios (unsalted, no shells)
1 tablespoon cinnamon
salt and freshly ground pepper
1 teaspoon whole peppercorns
2 whole star anise
1 teaspoon rosewater
1 red rose
1 cup arborio rice
2 teaspoons caviar (the best you can afford)

Okay, here’s the tough part. The lobsters are alive. For the non-squeamish, take a large, heavy knife and simply cut them in half, starting from the head back to the tail. For the squeamish, have your seafood supplier do it for you. Place on a sheet pan, cut side up, drizzle with half the olive oil and roast in oven at 375 degrees until the shells are red and the meat is cooked through. Remove from oven and let cool. Take the meat out of the shells. Set aside two of the tail halves. Chop the remaining tail and claw meat coarsely.

Break the shells up and put them in a large saucepan or stockpot with all but one of the scallions. Slice the tomatoes in quarters and add to the pot. Add peppercorns and star anise. Cover with one quart of water. Bring to a boil, reduce heat and simmer for one hour. Strain the stock and discard the solids.

Finely chop the onion. Heat a large pan over medium heat. Add the remaining two tablespoons of oil, the onions and a pinch of salt. Sauté, stirring regularly, till onions are translucent and soft. Add dry rice and stir to coat with oil and onion mixture. For the next 20-25 minutes, you will have to continually stir the rice around to cook evenly, as you add the reserved lobster stock, one ladleful at a time (approximately one cup each time). After each addition of liquid, continue cooking till it is completely absorbed. The rice is done when it is soft but just slightly chewy and has a bit of creaminess from the starch in the liquid. At this point, add the chopped lobster meat, pistachios, the chopped apricots, cinnamon, and rosewater. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Divide in two portions, top each with one of the reserved lobster tail halves, warmed. Garnish with the last scallion finely chopped, the rose petals and one teaspoon each of caviar.

Since champagne is a must in the world of passion, I recommend my favorite with this dish, Champagne de Venoge Princesse Rosé, a wonderful gold-pink sparkler that will light up your evening.

Q San Francisco magazine premiered in late 1995 as a ultra-slick, ultra-hip gay lifestyle magazine targeted primarily for the San Francisco community. It was launched by my friends Don Tuthill and Robert Adams, respectively the publisher and editor-in-chief, who had owned and run Genre magazine for several years prior. They asked me to come along as the food and wine geek, umm, editor, for this venture as well. In order to devote their time to Passport magazine, their newest venture, they ceased publication of QSF in early 2003.

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