One of the questions we’re most frequently asked is also one of the most difficult for us to answer: “What is your philosophy of cooking at Arrows?” It’s difficult to sum up our world in a few short sentences. So we often resort to telling some stories (all true, we swear) to illustrate how we cook. So, relax and get comfortable, it’s story time.
About Joseph Tobin
It has to be the same thing every day, but the waitress isn’t always the same. So I order in a way that’s clear, alert, and respectful. “I’d like the number two, with eggs over easy, sausage, and whole wheat toast (spacing my requests neatly so she can write it all down, then pausing). And I’d like grits instead of hashbrowns, if I could.”
For a few years now I’ve been teaching a course in Russian culture and cuisine that ends with an extravagant feast. It’s always fun, but this semester the class ended with a question, in the form of an object.
Falafel: A National Icon; Cooking Lessons; Postrevolutionary Chowhounds: Food, Globalization, and the Italian Left; Writing Out of the Kitchen: Carême and the Invention of French Cuisine; Thai Egg-Based Sweets; The Return of the Zin; Evacuation Day, or a Foodie is Bummed Out; Sourdough Culture; Rock ’n’ Roll Cooking; Growing Food in Suburbia; Arrows Restaurant, Ogunquit, Maine; GM Foods: “Miracle or Menace?”; and more…
What really drives my cooking today are well-chosen ingredients that represent the best of our region, Castilla la Mancha. In addition to such basic fish as salmon, hake, turbot, and sole, we prepare sea bass, gilthead bream, grouper, lobster, and cod, as well as some inferior but equally succulent fish, such as porgy.
The links among wine, place, and identity are both cultural and agricultural. Local tradition often informs the many decisions made during the growing of grapes (viticulture) and the making of wine (viniculture), but wine also reflects the physical environment in which the grapes are grown
I just received an e-mail from an admirer of Gastronomica who wrote to say how much she liked the latest issue (Winter 2003), adding that “I’ll never look at a jelly donut again without blushing.”
Stalin and Wheat; In Praise of Mock Food; The Enteric Terrors of Washington Irving; Great Apes as Food; A Roman Anchovy’s Tale; Reading Commune Cookbooks; Peruvian Coffee; What I Never Ate in India; Wine, Place, and Identity in a Changing Climate; The Food Stylist’s Art; Food Trends in Finland; Teaching Children to Cook, Clean, and (Often) Conform; and more…
To open a restaurant takes a strong desire and the willingness to put everything you have on the line—everything. Naha, the restaurant owned by my cousin Michael Nahabedian and me, is the culmination of years of being in the only business I have ever known.
One can say this about American waitresses: despite their enormous numbers and their daily presence in American life, and despite all the stereotypes they carry (along with pad, towel, crumber, corkscrew, and tray), they have been overlooked and understudied.