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Op 95 kweek die Mexikaanse voedselkenner Diana Kennedy haar eie koffie en maak sy eie tortillas

Op 95 kweek die Mexikaanse voedselkenner Diana Kennedy haar eie koffie en maak sy eie tortillas


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Om by die huis van Diana Kennedy, buite Zitácuaro, Mexiko, ongeveer 100 kilometer wes van Mexikostad, te kom, loop u 'n grondpad met rotse deur twee poorte, verby rotswande wat verhewe is met bougainvillea en blou plumbago, pienk lelies en vlugtende vlinders, en met 'n kliptrap na 'n buitenterras met twee adobe -bynes en twee sonstowe, een wat onlangs gekom het van die Spaanse sjef José Andrés, wat hulle ook na rampgebiede stuur.

Kennedy, die in Brittanje gebore 95-jarige kenner van plaaslike Mexikaanse kookkuns en skrywer van bykans 'n dosyn baanbrekende kookboeke, woon nie in 'n rampgebied nie, maar eerder in die klein dorpie San Francisco Coatepec de Morelos, op 'n geplaveide pad van 'n 16de-eeuse Franciskaanse kerk, in 'n 'ekologiese huis' wat sy laat in die sewentigerjare met herwinde materiaal gebou het, 200 jaar oue houtbalke en handgemaakte adobe geberg. Die rampgebied, soos Kennedy dit sien, is eerder wat ons van die wêreld gemaak het, belaai met besoedeling, klimaatsverandering, 'n ontploffende bevolking en verdwynende hulpbronne. En dit is waarop Kennedy, byna 100, fokus, terwyl sy aanhou werk: klasgee en haar boeke redigeer, natuurlik kook en net haar daaglikse lewe aanpak.

'Dit is trabajo,' sê Kennedy kragtig, haar ekspressiewe gesig deur laglyne, haar kort, wit hare ingesteek in 'n pastel serp en 'n breë strooihoed. “Die lewe is nie maklik hier nie; daar is geen Walmart om die draai nie. ” Die daaglikse lewe bestaan ​​dikwels uit die maak van koffie, wat vir haar beteken om die organiese bone wat sy self verbou, te pluk, te fermenteer, te droog en te braai. Kennedy kweek baie van haar eie kos by Quinta Diana, haar naam vir die drie hektaar grond rondom die huis, wat ook 'n tuin het met ongeveer 250 plante, 'n klein huisie vir oornaggaste, 'n hoenderhok, twee byekorwe en 'n klein bos van die bome wat sy geplant het toe sy die grond die eerste keer gekoop het. 'Dit was 'n opgedroogde mielieland toe ek dit koop.

Deur die patiodeure is die kombuis van Kennedy, gebou rondom wat sy nie 'n eiland nie, maar 'n skiereiland noem, 'n toonbank wat uit 'n rotswand steek - die huis is gebou op soliede rots en om 'n rots, nou onder in die trap , wat Kennedy "haar haat" noem - met gasbranders, teëls van Michoacán en 'n enorme koperkap wat sy in Guanajuato gekry het. Potjies tuisgemaakte asyn staan ​​by die vensterbank soos by 'n apteekwinkel. Die mandjies hang aan die metaalhake wat deur 'n plaaslike vakman gemaak is; soms is hulle gevul met chili, soms met blikkies tee. (Kennedy, soos sy jou sal vertel, het grootgeword in Engeland in die oorlog, wat haar met respek vir tee en armoede ingeprent het.) Cazuelas, die keramiekgemaakte Mexikaanse kookpotte, lê ook op die vloer langs haar ronde kombuistafel. gebou uit ou geredde balke. 'N Ander muur, agter 'n ysterhoutstoof wat gebruik word vir verhitting eerder as om te kook, word gehang met koperpotte en 'n geraamde foto wat tydens Craig Claiborne se 60ste verjaardagpartytjie geneem is.

Dit is wyle Claiborne, 'n jarelange redakteur en restaurantkritikus van die New York Times en self 'n skrywer van baie kookboeke wat die spel verander, wie se teenwoordigheid die kombuis net so vol soos almal is. Hy was die een wat voorgestel het dat Kennedy in die eerste plek kookklasse begin aanbied.

Gaan meer as 'n halwe eeu terug: in 1953 vertrek Kennedy uit Engeland na Toronto, waar sy 'n reeks poste kry ("op 'n stadium verkoop ek lampe") en daarna, nadat hy die buitelandse korrespondent van New York Times, Paul Kennedy, ontmoet het reis na Haïti, volg sy hom na Mexiko, waar hulle trou. Gedurende die jare wat die egpaar in Mexico -stad gewoon het, waar haar man gevestig was, het Kennedy gefassineer geraak deur die plaaslike kos, dit gekook en die resepte en tegnieke ondersoek. Die egpaar verhuis uiteindelik na New York, en na die dood van haar man as gevolg van kanker, word Kennedy beveg deur Claiborne, wat oor haar kookklasse geskryf het, en sy het gou 'n boekooreenkoms by Harper & Row gekry. En dan sê Kennedy nou: 'Eendag het ek gedink:' Waarom is ek nog in Manhattan? Ek behoort in Mexiko te wees. ’”

So kom sy terug en kom in die huis in Michoacán, waar sy al amper 40 jaar woon. 'U kan dit nie sonder konteks aanvaar nie,' sê die vrou wat met 'n gelaaide pistool onder haar kussing slaap. 'Dit is belangrik om te praat oor wat ek hier doen.' Die kwessie van volhoubaarheid, wat tans in die neiging is, is iets wat Kennedy die grootste deel van haar lang lewe geleef en beoefen het. Sy gebruik slegs elektrisiteit as dit nodig is, hergebruik enige plastiek (soos die sakke wat sy gebruik om tortillas te druk) verskeie kere, filtreer al die water (sy laat slegs neutrale seep toe) wat by Quinta Diana gebruik word vir besproeiing. 'Almal is verantwoordelik', sê Kennedy heftig. “Almal. In alle stadiums. ”

En dan is daar haar verantwoordelikheid ten opsigte van die kookkuns, wat Kennedy vereer het: Mexiko se Orde van die Azteekse Arend en lidmaatskap van die Orde van die Britse Ryk. (Prins Charles het eenkeer by Quinta Diana kom eet; Kennedy merk op hoe lief hy vir haar versuikerde Jalisco -groen mango's was.)

'U is so outentiek as moontlik', sê sy oor die kookkuns wat sy haar lewe gewy het om te dokumenteer. "Die eerste Mexikaanse kos wat ek ooit gehad het, was in Los Angeles." Kennedy waardeer die ironie, as jy dit kan noem, van 'n vrou wat Spaans met 'n Britse aksent praat en tradisionele Mexikaanse tegnieke leer. “Wie sou ek sê? Ek het gelyk asof ek uit Mars geval het.

'Ek het deur die hele land gery,' voeg Kennedy by en knik in die rigting van haar derde agtereenvolgende bakkie, 'n 17-jarige witskakeling van 'n 17-jarige geparkeerde motor onder 'n afdak wat sy steeds bestuur (haar lisensie verval wanneer sy word 100). 'Ek was maande lank in die berge, in die kombuise.'

Hierdie toewyding aan akkuraatheid gee haar min geduld vir diegene wat nie aan haar standaarde voldoen nie of die resepte volg wat sy uit die plattelandse Mexikaanse kombuise vertaal het. Publikasies sal die resepte by hulle pas, deur die bestanddele en tegnieke te verander - 'n algemene en aanvaarde praktyk, gegewe die huidige kopieregwette vir kookboeke, wat Kennedy verlang om te verander om resepskrywers meer beskerming te gee. 'Die verskil tussen uitnemendheid en middelmatigheid is subtiel,' sê sy, nadat sy 'n dag lank gedemonstreer het hoe om tortillas te maak.

Dit was 'n proses wat begin het met 'n klein emmer plaaslike mielies, wat sy met kalk prut, geweek en afgedop het - 'n volgorde genaamd nixtamalisering - en dan na 'n klein buurtmeul, waar dit gemaal is, en dan terug na haar kombuis, waar dit in skywe masa gedruk is en dan op 'n kombers gaargemaak is. (Kennedy kweek haar eie koring as daar genoeg reënval is, wat die afgelope tyd nog nie was nie; Michoacán het nog nie die droogte in Kalifornië nie, maar sy merk op dat hierdie lente die droogste en warmste was wat sy kan onthou.) Om elke deel te sien van die proses is 'n objekles. Guacamole gemaak in 'n molcajete, elke bestanddeel met die hand gestamp; camarones enchipotlados, gemaak met die eerste erfstuk -tamaties van die seisoen en tuisgemaakte chiles in adobo, die verminderde sous oor gesoute, perfek gaar garnale; 'n koppie koffie gebrou met boontjies wat onlangs in 'n emmer buite gegis het. Die eenvoud is misleidend, afhanklik van 'n groot argitektuur van verkryging en arbeid, tydsberekening en tegniek.

Kennedy sit in haar kombuis en dra 'n polisiefluitjie soos 'n halssnoer om haar te beskerm, 'n koppie tee voor haar. 'Darjeeling bestaan ​​moontlik nie gou nie', sê sy, 'weens klimaatsverandering.' Sy het gedink aan die toekoms, nie net aan die planeet nie, maar ook aan Quinta Diana, die huis wat sy nog besig is om in 'n ekologiese reservaat te verander en waarvan die plante op CONABIO, Mexiko se nasionale biodiversiteitswebwerf, gekatalogiseer word. Sy het universiteite genader om haar vraestelle te huisves en werk saam met filmmakers aan 'n dokumentêr. 'N Nuwe uitgawe van haar deurslaggewende' The Art of Mexican Cooking 'is aan die gang, plus 'n nuwe Mexikaanse uitgawe van die massiewe' Oaxaca al Gusto ', wat Kennedy 14 jaar geneem het om te ondersoek en te skryf. En sy hoop om aan te hou met bootskampe, die intensiewe kookklasse wat sy uit haar huis aanbied. 'Ek is op 100,' sê sy, hoewel dit maklik is om te dink dat sy ons almal oorleef.

'Dit gaan oor oorlewing,' sê Kennedy. “En smaak.”


DIANA KENNEDY: NIKS FANCY — INDEED

Om die waarheid te sê, my liefste filmliefhebbers, ek is 'n leser, nie 'n fliekganger nie, en ek lees net fiksie. As ek 'n fliek kyk, moet dit in 'n filmhuis op 'n groot skerm wees, en dit moet 'n goeie storie beloof, ideaal seks. Dokumentêre is vir my vervelig.

Maar ten spyte van alle kanse, was ek betower deur 'n nuwe dokumentêr oor die lewe van Diana Kennedy, die onstuimige, 97-jarige skrywer van plaaslike Mexikaanse kookboeke, deur die eerste filmregisseur Elizabeth Carroll. Die film het vir my romanse gevoel - genuanseerd, onthullend, waar. Dit het my regop van 'n lessenaarstoel voor my klein rekenaarskerm opgetel en my in die hooglandwoude van Michoacán laat val.

Regisseur Elizabeth Carroll met Diana Kenned

Op die oog af lyk dit asof Kennedy nie 'n uitstekende kandidaat vir 'n filmster is nie. Ons in die voedselwêreld ken haar as die baanbreker, selfopgeleide Britse antropoloog van plaaslike Mexikaanse kos. Van Chihuahua tot die Yucatan het sy deur die derde klas bus deur Mexiko gereis en die Nissan-bakkie afgelê (waar sy gereeld geslaap het), gevolg deur die spoor van inheemse bestanddele deur dorpsmarkte na huiskombuise.

Daar het sy die tegnieke wat hierdie voedsel in tradisionele en soms ikoniese geregte omskep het, noukeurig afgeneem en resepte ontwikkel wat in Amerikaanse kombuise kan werk - as u die bestanddele in die hande kan kry. Die bestanddele is nie onderhandelbaar vir Kennedy nie. Sy dring aan op die belangrikheid van die regte chili.

As een van die vroegste en felste voorstanders van ekologiese leefwyse, eetbare tuine, waterbesparing en plaaslike selfvoorsiening, dateer sy vooraf uit Alice Waters. Sy verdien baie haar plek in die klein panteon van groot onderwysers soos Paula Wolfert, Marcella Hazan en Julia Child, wat die omvang en doel van die kookboek uitgebrei het. Hulle het outentieke wêreldgeregte toeganklik gemaak vir die Amerikaanse huiskok.

Kennedy is moeilik, aggressief opinies en neig na gemene op kamera, maar sy smelt in die markte en kombuise van die inwoners van die landelike Mexiko. Wat ek van hierdie film hou, is dat die regisseur die spanning tussen die twee Dianas vasvang: die een 'n stoute, onafhanklike, veroordelende slegte meisie en die ander 'n bewonderende, nuuskierige, genadige versamelaar van kultuur.

Carroll se aanraking is artistiek. Elke toneel, elke snit, elke minuut oorspronklike beeldmateriaal onthul karakter. Ek was veral aangemoedig deur die ontmoeting aan die einde van die fliek tussen Kennedy en Gabriela Cámara, 'n vrou wat 'n ware kunstenaar is, so warm en sjarmant dat selfs Kennedy vir haar val. Cámara is verantwoordelik vir een van die beste restaurante in Mexiko, Contramar, plus die unieke Cala in San Francisco en My Mexico Kitchen, haar eie opiniewe en politieke kookboek.

Diana Kennedy met Gabriella Cámara en Cala chef de cuisine Raymond Tamayo
Foto deur Mark Mahaney vir WSJ Magazine FOTO:

Hierdie film gee u 'n intieme blik op 'n vrou wat ondanks haar ouderdom steeds vlymskerp is, wat respek vereis en 'n ywerige voog bly oor haar eie werk. Vir Diana Kennedy beteken smaak en sensitiwiteit alles. Dat Cámara dit alles opreg in die steek laat - en toevallig ook die volgende in die ry is wat 'n outentieke Mexico City -stem betref - sorg vir 'n opwindende kontras. Ons kry 'n spontane en oorspronklike klimaks van 'n regisseur wat regtig weet hoe om 'n goeie verhaal te skep.

Nothing Fancy: Diana Kennedy word op die Legacy Film Festival, 24-31 Mei, vertoon as deel van 'n program oor kos, en#8220Savory Traditions. ”

Dit kan tydens u datums op u gemak besigtig word.

'N Virtuele Q & ampA het plaasgevind met regisseur Elizabeth Carroll, sjef Alice Waters (Chez Panisse), sjef Gabriela Cámara (Contramara en Cala), The New York Times -kosskrywer David Tanis en kookboekskrywer en moderator Lesley Tellez.

Die hele gesprek kan enige tyd gekyk word deur hier te klik.

Patricia Unterman is stigter en mede-eienaar van die Hayes Street Grill, 'n seekosrestaurant in San Francisco wat bekend staan ​​vir die verskaffing van volgehoue ​​geoes vis en skulpvis wat gesertifiseer is deur die Monterey Bay Aquarium Seafood Watch.

Sy het grootgeword in Evanston, Illinois, en studeer aan die Stanford -universiteit, en studeer aan die nagraadse skool vir joernalistiek aan die Universiteit van Kalifornië, Berkeley. Nadat sy basiese Franse kookklasse in die huiskombuis van Josephine Araldo gevolg het en resepte van Julia Child geoefen het, het sy in die vroeë sewentigerjare 'n klein restaurant in Berkeley geopen, genaamd die Bedelaarsbanket. Sy het begin skryf as die Underground Gourmet vir New West Magazine. In 1979 open sy die Hayes Street Grill in San Francisco saam met drie vennote - Dick Sander, Ann Powning en Robert Flaherty. Unterman en Sander het Vicolo Pizzeria van 1984 tot 2004 in 'n stegie agter die restaurant gehad.

In 1979 word sy ook die restaurantkritikus vir die San Francisco Chronicle, 'n pos wat sy die volgende vyftien jaar beklee het. Later, na die skryf van die San Francisco Food Lovers 'Guide, het sy by die San Francisco Eksaminator as restaurantkritikus en kosrubriekskrywer, en skryf oor kos en reis vir haar nuusbrief/webwerf Unterman on Food. Sy het die “Forward ” bygedra vir FrenchRoots: Twee kokke, twee lande en die pragtige kos langs die pad deur Jean-Pierre Moullé en vir The SlantedDoor: Moderne Viëtnamese kos deur Charles Phan. Sy skryf tans 'n nuwe stuk vir Die Threepenny Review.

Patricia is 'n stigterslid van CUESA en die Ferry Plaza Farmers 'Market waar sy elke Dinsdag en Saterdag vir die restaurant inkopies doen. The Hayes Street Grill het 'n gewilde eetplek op die Saterdagmark bedryf, wat hopelik weer sal terugkeer nadat die pandemie verdwyn het.


DIANA KENNEDY: NIKS FANCY — INDEED

Om die waarheid te sê, my liefste filmliefhebbers, ek is 'n leser, nie 'n fliekganger nie, en ek lees net fiksie. As ek 'n fliek kyk, moet dit in 'n filmhuis op 'n groot skerm wees, en dit moet 'n goeie storie beloof, ideaal seks. Dokumentêre is vir my vervelig.

Maar ten spyte van alle kanse, was ek betower deur 'n nuwe dokumentêr oor die lewe van Diana Kennedy, die onstuimige, 97-jarige skrywer van plaaslike Mexikaanse kookboeke, deur die eerste filmregisseur Elizabeth Carroll. Die film het vir my romanse gevoel - genuanseerd, onthullend, waar. Dit het my regop van 'n lessenaarstoel voor my klein rekenaarskerm opgetel en my in die boswoude van Michoacán laat val.

Regisseur Elizabeth Carroll met Diana Kenned

Op die oog af lyk dit asof Kennedy nie 'n uitstekende kandidaat vir 'n filmster is nie. Ons in die voedselwêreld ken haar as die baanbreker, selfopgeleide Britse antropoloog van plaaslike Mexikaanse kos. Van Chihuahua tot die Yucatan het sy deur die derde klas bus deur Mexiko gereis en die Nissan-bakkie afgelê (waar sy gereeld geslaap het), gevolg deur die spoor van inheemse bestanddele deur dorpsmarkte na huiskombuise.

Daar het sy die tegnieke wat hierdie voedsel in tradisionele en soms ikoniese geregte omskep het, noukeurig afgeneem en resepte ontwikkel wat in Amerikaanse kombuise kan werk - as u die bestanddele in die hande kan kry. Die bestanddele is nie onderhandelbaar vir Kennedy nie. Sy dring aan op die belangrikheid van die regte chili.

As een van die vroegste en felste voorstanders van ekologiese leefwyse, eetbare tuine, waterbesparing en plaaslike selfvoorsiening, dateer sy vooraf uit Alice Waters. Sy verdien baie haar plek in die klein panteon van groot onderwysers soos Paula Wolfert, Marcella Hazan en Julia Child, wat die omvang en doel van die kookboek uitgebrei het. Hulle het outentieke wêreldgeregte toeganklik gemaak vir die Amerikaanse huiskok.

Kennedy is moeilik, aggressief opinies en neig na gemene op kamera, maar sy smelt in die markte en kombuise van die inwoners van die landelike Mexiko. Wat ek van hierdie film hou, is dat die regisseur die spanning tussen die twee Dianas vasvang: die een 'n stoute, onafhanklike, veroordelende slegte meisie, en die ander 'n bewonderende, nuuskierige, genadige versamelaar van kultuur.

Carroll se aanraking is artistiek. Elke toneel, elke snit, elke minuut oorspronklike beeldmateriaal onthul karakter. Ek was veral aangemoedig deur die ontmoeting aan die einde van die fliek tussen Kennedy en Gabriela Cámara, 'n vrou wat 'n ware kunstenaar is, so warm en sjarmant dat selfs Kennedy vir haar val. Cámara is verantwoordelik vir een van die beste restaurante in Mexiko, Contramar, plus die unieke Cala in San Francisco en My Mexico Kitchen, haar eie opiniewe en politieke kookboek.

Diana Kennedy met Gabriella Cámara en Cala chef de cuisine Raymond Tamayo
Foto deur Mark Mahaney vir WSJ Magazine FOTO:

Hierdie film gee u 'n intieme blik op 'n vrou wat ondanks haar ouderdom steeds vlymskerp is, wat respek vereis en 'n ywerige voog bly oor haar eie werk. Vir Diana Kennedy beteken smaak en sensitiwiteit alles. Dat Cámara dit alles opreg in die steek laat - en toevallig ook die volgende in die ry is wat 'n outentieke Mexico City -stem betref - sorg vir 'n opwindende kontras. Ons kry 'n spontane en oorspronklike klimaks van 'n regisseur wat regtig weet hoe om 'n goeie verhaal te skep.

Nothing Fancy: Diana Kennedy word op die Legacy Film Festival, 24-31 Mei, vertoon as deel van 'n program oor kos, en#8220Savory Traditions. ”

Dit kan tydens u datums op u gemak besigtig word.

'N Virtuele Q & ampA het plaasgevind met regisseur Elizabeth Carroll, sjef Alice Waters (Chez Panisse), sjef Gabriela Cámara (Contramara en Cala), The New York Times -kosskrywer David Tanis en kookboekskrywer en moderator Lesley Tellez.

Die hele gesprek kan enige tyd gekyk word deur hier te klik.

Patricia Unterman is stigter en mede-eienaar van die Hayes Street Grill, 'n seekosrestaurant in San Francisco wat bekend staan ​​vir die verskaffing van volgehoue ​​geoes vis en skulpvis wat gesertifiseer is deur die Monterey Bay Aquarium Seafood Watch.

Sy het grootgeword in Evanston, Illinois, en studeer aan die Stanford -universiteit, en studeer aan die nagraadse skool vir joernalistiek aan die Universiteit van Kalifornië, Berkeley. Nadat sy basiese Franse kookklasse in die huiskombuis van Josephine Araldo gevolg het en resepte van Julia Child geoefen het, het sy in die vroeë sewentigerjare 'n klein restaurant in Berkeley geopen, genaamd die Bedelaarsbanket. Sy het begin skryf as die Underground Gourmet vir New West Magazine. In 1979 open sy die Hayes Street Grill in San Francisco saam met drie vennote - Dick Sander, Ann Powning en Robert Flaherty. Unterman en Sander het Vicolo Pizzeria van 1984 tot 2004 in 'n stegie agter die restaurant gehad.

In 1979 word sy ook die restaurantkritikus vir die San Francisco Chronicle, 'n pos wat sy die volgende vyftien jaar beklee het. Later, na die skryf van die San Francisco Food Lovers 'Guide, het sy by die San Francisco Eksaminator as restaurantkritikus en kosrubriekskrywer, en skryf oor kos en reis vir haar nuusbrief/webwerf Unterman on Food. Sy het die “Forward ” bygedra vir FrenchRoots: Twee kokke, twee lande en die pragtige kos langs die pad deur Jean-Pierre Moullé en vir The SlantedDoor: Moderne Viëtnamese kos deur Charles Phan. Sy skryf tans 'n nuwe stuk vir Die Threepenny Review.

Patricia is 'n stigterslid van CUESA en die Ferry Plaza Farmers 'Market waar sy elke Dinsdag en Saterdag vir die restaurant inkopies doen. The Hayes Street Grill het 'n gewilde eetplek op die Saterdagmark bedryf, wat hopelik weer sal terugkeer nadat die pandemie verdwyn het.


DIANA KENNEDY: NIKS FANCY — INDEED

Om die waarheid te sê, my liefste filmliefhebbers, ek is 'n leser, nie 'n fliekganger nie, en ek lees net fiksie. As ek 'n fliek kyk, moet dit in 'n filmhuis op 'n groot skerm wees, en dit moet 'n goeie storie beloof, ideaal seks. Dokumentêre is vir my vervelig.

Maar ten spyte van alle kanse, was ek betower deur 'n nuwe dokumentêr oor die lewe van Diana Kennedy, die onstuimige, 97-jarige skrywer van plaaslike Mexikaanse kookboeke, deur die eerste filmregisseur Elizabeth Carroll. Die film het vir my romanse gevoel - genuanseerd, onthullend, waar. Dit het my regop van 'n lessenaarstoel voor my klein rekenaarskerm opgetel en my in die hooglandwoude van Michoacán laat val.

Regisseur Elizabeth Carroll met Diana Kenned

Op die oog af lyk dit asof Kennedy nie 'n uitstekende kandidaat vir 'n filmster is nie. Ons in die voedselwêreld ken haar as die baanbreker, selfopgeleide Britse antropoloog van plaaslike Mexikaanse kos. Van Chihuahua tot die Yucatan het sy deur die derde klas bus deur Mexiko gereis en die Nissan-bakkie afgelê (waar sy gereeld geslaap het), gevolg deur die spoor van inheemse bestanddele deur dorpsmarkte na huiskombuise.

Daar het sy die tegnieke wat hierdie voedsel in tradisionele en soms ikoniese geregte omskep het, noukeurig afgeneem en resepte ontwikkel wat in Amerikaanse kombuise kan werk - as u die bestanddele in die hande kan kry. Die bestanddele is nie onderhandelbaar vir Kennedy nie. Sy dring aan op die belangrikheid van die regte chili.

As een van die vroegste en felste voorstanders van ekologiese leefwyse, eetbare tuine, waterbesparing en plaaslike selfvoorsiening, dateer sy vooraf uit Alice Waters. Sy verdien baie haar plek in die klein panteon van groot onderwysers soos Paula Wolfert, Marcella Hazan en Julia Child, wat die omvang en doel van die kookboek uitgebrei het. Hulle het outentieke wêreldgeregte toeganklik gemaak vir die Amerikaanse huiskok.

Kennedy is moeilik, aggressief opinies en neig na gemene op kamera, maar sy smelt in die markte en kombuise van die inwoners van die landelike Mexiko. Wat ek van hierdie film hou, is dat die regisseur die spanning tussen die twee Dianas vasvang: die een 'n stoute, onafhanklike, veroordelende slegte meisie en die ander 'n bewonderende, nuuskierige, genadige versamelaar van kultuur.

Carroll se aanraking is artistiek. Elke toneel, elke snit, elke minuut oorspronklike beeldmateriaal onthul karakter. Ek was veral aangemoedig deur die ontmoeting aan die einde van die film tussen Kennedy en Gabriela Cámara, 'n vrou wat 'n ware kunstenaar is, so warm en sjarmant dat selfs Kennedy vir haar val. Cámara is verantwoordelik vir een van die beste restaurante in Mexiko, Contramar, plus die unieke Cala in San Francisco en My Mexico Kitchen, haar eie opiniewe en politieke kookboek.

Diana Kennedy met Gabriella Cámara en Cala chef de cuisine Raymond Tamayo
Foto deur Mark Mahaney vir WSJ Magazine FOTO:

Hierdie film gee u 'n intieme blik op 'n vrou wat ten spyte van haar ouderdom steeds vlymskerp is, wat respek vereis en 'n ywerige voog bly oor haar eie werk. Vir Diana Kennedy beteken smaak en sensitiwiteit alles. Dat Cámara dit alles opreg in die steek laat - en toevallig ook die volgende in die ry is wat 'n outentieke Mexico City -stem betref - sorg vir 'n opwindende kontras. Ons kry 'n spontane en oorspronklike klimaks van 'n regisseur wat regtig weet hoe om 'n goeie verhaal te skep.

Nothing Fancy: Diana Kennedy word op die Legacy Film Festival, 24-31 Mei, vertoon as deel van 'n program oor kos, en#8220Savory Traditions. ”

Dit kan tydens u datums op u gemak besigtig word.

'N Virtuele Q & ampA het plaasgevind met regisseur Elizabeth Carroll, sjef Alice Waters (Chez Panisse), sjef Gabriela Cámara (Contramara en Cala), The New York Times -kosskrywer David Tanis en kookboekskrywer en moderator Lesley Tellez.

Die hele gesprek kan enige tyd gekyk word deur hier te klik.

Patricia Unterman is stigter en mede-eienaar van die Hayes Street Grill, 'n seekosrestaurant in San Francisco wat bekend staan ​​vir die verskaffing van volgehoue ​​geoes vis en skulpvis wat gesertifiseer is deur die Monterey Bay Aquarium Seafood Watch.

Sy het grootgeword in Evanston, Illinois, en studeer aan die Stanford -universiteit, en studeer aan die nagraadse skool vir joernalistiek aan die Universiteit van Kalifornië, Berkeley. Nadat sy basiese Franse kookklasse in die huiskombuis van Josephine Araldo gevolg het en resepte van Julia Child geoefen het, het sy in die vroeë sewentigerjare 'n klein restaurant in Berkeley geopen, genaamd die Bedelaarsbanket. Sy het begin skryf as die Underground Gourmet vir New West Magazine. In 1979 maak sy die Hayes Street Grill in San Francisco oop met drie vennote - Dick Sander, Ann Powning en Robert Flaherty. Unterman en Sander het Vicolo Pizzeria van 1984 tot 2004 in 'n stegie agter die restaurant gehad.

In 1979 word sy ook die restaurantkritikus vir die San Francisco Chronicle, 'n pos wat sy die volgende vyftien jaar beklee het. Later, na die skryf van die San Francisco Food Lovers 'Guide, het sy by die San Francisco Eksaminator as restaurantkritikus en kosrubriekskrywer, en skryf oor kos en reis vir haar nuusbrief/webwerf Unterman on Food. Sy het die “Forward ” bygedra vir FrenchRoots: Twee kokke, twee lande en die pragtige kos langs die pad deur Jean-Pierre Moullé en vir The SlantedDoor: Moderne Viëtnamese kos deur Charles Phan. Sy skryf tans 'n nuwe stuk vir Die Threepenny Review.

Patricia is 'n stigterslid van CUESA en die Ferry Plaza Farmers 'Market waar sy elke Dinsdag en Saterdag vir die restaurant inkopies doen. The Hayes Street Grill het 'n gewilde eetplek op die Saterdagmark bedryf, wat hopelik weer sal terugkeer nadat die pandemie verdwyn het.


DIANA KENNEDY: NIKS FANCY — INDEED

Om die waarheid te sê, my liefste filmliefhebbers, ek is 'n leser, nie 'n fliekganger nie, en ek lees net fiksie. As ek 'n fliek kyk, moet dit in 'n filmhuis op 'n groot skerm wees, en dit moet 'n goeie storie beloof, ideaal seks. Dokumentêre is vir my vervelig.

Maar ten spyte van alle kanse, was ek betower deur 'n nuwe dokumentêr oor die lewe van Diana Kennedy, die onstuimige, 97-jarige skrywer van plaaslike Mexikaanse kookboeke, deur die eerste filmregisseur Elizabeth Carroll. Die film het vir my romanse gevoel - genuanseerd, onthullend, waar. Dit het my regop van 'n lessenaarstoel voor my klein rekenaarskerm opgetel en my in die hooglandwoude van Michoacán laat val.

Regisseur Elizabeth Carroll met Diana Kenned

Op die oog af lyk dit asof Kennedy nie 'n uitstekende kandidaat vir 'n filmster is nie. Ons in die voedselwêreld ken haar as die baanbreker, selfopgeleide Britse antropoloog van plaaslike Mexikaanse kos. Van Chihuahua tot die Yucatan het sy deur die derde klas bus deur Mexiko gereis en die Nissan-bakkie afgelê (waar sy gereeld geslaap het), gevolg deur die spoor van inheemse bestanddele deur dorpsmarkte na huiskombuise.

Daar het sy die tegnieke wat hierdie voedsel in tradisionele en soms ikoniese geregte omskep het, noukeurig afgeneem en resepte ontwikkel wat in Amerikaanse kombuise kan werk - as u die bestanddele in die hande kan kry. Die bestanddele is nie onderhandelbaar vir Kennedy nie. Sy dring aan op die belangrikheid van die regte chili.

As een van die vroegste en felste voorstanders van ekologiese leefwyse, eetbare tuine, waterbesparing en plaaslike selfvoorsiening, dateer sy vooraf uit Alice Waters. Sy verdien baie haar plek in die klein panteon van groot onderwysers soos Paula Wolfert, Marcella Hazan en Julia Child, wat die omvang en doel van die kookboek uitgebrei het. Hulle het outentieke wêreldgeregte toeganklik gemaak vir die Amerikaanse huiskok.

Kennedy is moeilik, aggressief opinies en neig na gemene op kamera, maar sy smelt in die markte en kombuise van die inwoners van die landelike Mexiko. Wat ek van hierdie film hou, is dat die regisseur die spanning tussen die twee Dianas vasvang: die een 'n stoute, onafhanklike, veroordelende slegte meisie en die ander 'n bewonderende, nuuskierige, genadige versamelaar van kultuur.

Carroll se aanraking is artistiek. Elke toneel, elke snit, elke minuut oorspronklike beeldmateriaal onthul karakter. Ek was veral aangemoedig deur die ontmoeting aan die einde van die fliek tussen Kennedy en Gabriela Cámara, 'n vrou wat 'n ware kunstenaar is, so warm en sjarmant dat selfs Kennedy vir haar val. Cámara is verantwoordelik vir een van die beste restaurante in Mexiko, Contramar, plus die unieke Cala in San Francisco en My Mexico Kitchen, haar eie opiniewe en politieke kookboek.

Diana Kennedy met Gabriella Cámara en Cala chef de cuisine Raymond Tamayo
Foto deur Mark Mahaney vir WSJ Magazine FOTO:

Hierdie film gee u 'n intieme blik op 'n vrou wat ten spyte van haar ouderdom steeds vlymskerp is, wat respek vereis en 'n ywerige voog bly oor haar eie werk. Vir Diana Kennedy beteken smaak en sensitiwiteit alles. Dat Cámara dit alles opreg in die steek laat - en toevallig ook die volgende in die ry is wat 'n outentieke Mexico City -stem betref - sorg vir 'n opwindende kontras. Ons kry 'n spontane en oorspronklike klimaks van 'n regisseur wat regtig weet hoe om 'n goeie verhaal te skep.

Nothing Fancy: Diana Kennedy word op die Legacy Film Festival, 24-31 Mei, vertoon as deel van 'n program oor kos, en#8220Savory Traditions. ”

Dit kan tydens u datums op u gemak besigtig word.

'N Virtuele Q & ampA het plaasgevind met regisseur Elizabeth Carroll, sjef Alice Waters (Chez Panisse), sjef Gabriela Cámara (Contramara en Cala), The New York Times -kosskrywer David Tanis en kookboekskrywer en moderator Lesley Tellez.

Die hele gesprek kan enige tyd gekyk word deur hier te klik.

Patricia Unterman is stigter en mede-eienaar van die Hayes Street Grill, 'n seekosrestaurant in San Francisco wat bekend staan ​​vir die verskaffing van volgehoue ​​geoes vis en skulpvis wat gesertifiseer is deur die Monterey Bay Aquarium Seafood Watch.

Sy het grootgeword in Evanston, Illinois, en studeer aan die Stanford -universiteit, en studeer aan die nagraadse skool vir joernalistiek aan die Universiteit van Kalifornië, Berkeley. Nadat sy basiese Franse kookklasse in die huiskombuis van Josephine Araldo gevolg het en resepte van Julia Child geoefen het, het sy in die vroeë sewentigerjare 'n klein restaurant in Berkeley geopen, genaamd die Bedelaarsbanket. Sy het begin skryf as die Underground Gourmet vir New West Magazine. In 1979 maak sy die Hayes Street Grill in San Francisco oop met drie vennote - Dick Sander, Ann Powning en Robert Flaherty. Unterman en Sander het Vicolo Pizzeria van 1984 tot 2004 in 'n stegie agter die restaurant gehad.

In 1979 word sy ook die restaurantkritikus vir die San Francisco Chronicle, 'n pos wat sy die volgende vyftien jaar beklee het. Later, na die skryf van die San Francisco Food Lovers 'Guide, het sy by die San Francisco Eksaminator as restaurantkritikus en kosrubriekskrywer, en skryf oor kos en reis vir haar nuusbrief/webwerf Unterman on Food. She contributed the “Forward” for FrenchRoots: Two Cooks, Two Countries, and the Beautiful Food Along the Way by Jean-Pierre Moullé and for The SlantedDoor: Modern Vietnamese Food by Charles Phan. She currently writing a new piece for The Threepenny Review.

Patricia is a founding board member of CUESA and the Ferry Plaza Farmers’ Market where she shops for the restaurant every Tuesday and Saturday. The Hayes Street Grill has operated a popular food stand at the Saturday Market which will hopefully return soon after the pandemic is gone.


DIANA KENNEDY: NOTHING FANCY—INDEED

To tell you the truth, my dear film buffs, I’m a reader, not a moviegoer, and I only read fiction. If I watch a movie, it has to be in a movie house on a big screen and it has to promise a good story, ideally involving sex. Documentaries, for me, are a bore.

But despite all odds, I was mesmerized by a new documentary on the life of Diana Kennedy, the grouchy, 97-year-old writer of regional Mexican cookbooks, by first-time movie director Elizabeth Carroll. The film felt novelistic to me—nuanced, revealing, true. It picked me right up from a desk chair in front of my little computer screen and dropped me in the upland forests of Michoacán.

Director Elizabeth Carroll with Diana Kenned

On the face of it, Kennedy, would not seem to be a great candidate for a movie star. We in the food world know her as the groundbreaking, self-trained British anthropologist of regional Mexican food. From Chihuahua to the Yucatan, she traveled the length and breadth of Mexico by third-class bus and covered Nissan pick-up (where she often slept), following the trail of indigenous ingredients through village markets to home kitchens.

There, she meticulously took down the techniques that transformed these food stuffs into traditional and sometimes iconic dishes, developing recipes that might work in American kitchens —if you could get your hands on the ingredients. The ingredients are non-negotiable to Kennedy. She insists on the importance of the right chile.

As one of the earliest and fiercest proponents of ecological living, edible gardens, water conservation and local self-sufficiency, she pre-dates Alice Waters. She very much earns her place in the small pantheon of great teachers like Paula Wolfert, Marcella Hazan and Julia Child, who expanded the scope and purpose of the cookbook. They made authentic world cuisines accessible to the American home cook.

Kennedy is difficult, aggressively opinionated and tends toward mean on camera, but she melts in the markets and kitchens of the residents of rural Mexico. What I love about this film is that the director captures the tension between the two Dianas: one a naughty, independent, judgmental bad girl, and the other an admiring, curious, gracious collector of culture.

Carroll’s touch is artistic. Every scene, every clip, every minute of original footage, reveals character. I was particularly taken by the meeting at the end of the movie between Kennedy and Gabriela Cámara, a woman who’s a true artist herself so warm and charming that even Kennedy falls for her. Cámara is responsible for one of the best restaurants in all of Mexico, Contramar, plus the unique Cala in San Francisco and My Mexico Kitchen, her own opinionated and political cookbook.

Diana Kennedy with Gabriella Cámara and Cala chef de cuisine Raymond Tamayo
Photo by Mark Mahaney for WSJ Magazine PHOTO:

This film gives you an intimate look at a woman who’s still razor-sharp despite her age, who demands respect, and who remains a fierce guardian of her own work. For Diana Kennedy, taste and sensibility mean everything. That Cámara is sincerely down with all this—and also happens to be the next in line when it comes to an authentic Mexico City voice—makes for a thrilling contrast. We get a spontaneous and original climax from a director who really knows how to create a good story.

Nothing Fancy: Diana Kennedy is showing at the Legacy Film Festival, May 24-31 as part of a program on food, “Savory Traditions.”

It can be viewed at your convenience during those dates.

A virtual Q&A took place with director Elizabeth Carroll, chef Alice Waters (Chez Panisse), chef Gabriela Cámara (Contramara & Cala), The New York Times food writer David Tanis en cookbook author & moderator Lesley Tellez.

The entire conversation can be watched anytime by clicking here.

Patricia Unterman is founder and co-owner of the Hayes Street Grill, a San Francisco seafood restaurant renowned for serving sustainably harvested fish and shellfish certified by the Monterey Bay Aquarium Seafood Watch.

She grew up in Evanston, Illinois and graduated from Stanford University, attending the graduate school of journalism at the University of California, Berkeley. After taking basic French cooking classes in the home kitchen of Josephine Araldo and practicing recipes from Julia Child, she opened a small restaurant in Berkeley in the early seventies called the Beggar’s Banquet. She started writing as the Underground Gourmet for New West Magazine. In 1979 she opened the Hayes Street Grill in San Francisco with three partners–Dick Sander, Ann Powning and Robert Flaherty. Unterman and Sander had Vicolo Pizzeria in an alley behind the restaurant from 1984 to 2004.

In 1979 she also became the restaurant critic for the San Francisco Chronicle, a job she held for the next fifteen years. Later, after writing the San Francisco Food Lovers’ Guide, she joined the San Francisco Examiner as a restaurant critic and food columnist, and wrote about food and travel for her newsletter/website Unterman on Food. She contributed the “Forward” for FrenchRoots: Two Cooks, Two Countries, and the Beautiful Food Along the Way by Jean-Pierre Moullé and for The SlantedDoor: Modern Vietnamese Food by Charles Phan. She currently writing a new piece for The Threepenny Review.

Patricia is a founding board member of CUESA and the Ferry Plaza Farmers’ Market where she shops for the restaurant every Tuesday and Saturday. The Hayes Street Grill has operated a popular food stand at the Saturday Market which will hopefully return soon after the pandemic is gone.


DIANA KENNEDY: NOTHING FANCY—INDEED

To tell you the truth, my dear film buffs, I’m a reader, not a moviegoer, and I only read fiction. If I watch a movie, it has to be in a movie house on a big screen and it has to promise a good story, ideally involving sex. Documentaries, for me, are a bore.

But despite all odds, I was mesmerized by a new documentary on the life of Diana Kennedy, the grouchy, 97-year-old writer of regional Mexican cookbooks, by first-time movie director Elizabeth Carroll. The film felt novelistic to me—nuanced, revealing, true. It picked me right up from a desk chair in front of my little computer screen and dropped me in the upland forests of Michoacán.

Director Elizabeth Carroll with Diana Kenned

On the face of it, Kennedy, would not seem to be a great candidate for a movie star. We in the food world know her as the groundbreaking, self-trained British anthropologist of regional Mexican food. From Chihuahua to the Yucatan, she traveled the length and breadth of Mexico by third-class bus and covered Nissan pick-up (where she often slept), following the trail of indigenous ingredients through village markets to home kitchens.

There, she meticulously took down the techniques that transformed these food stuffs into traditional and sometimes iconic dishes, developing recipes that might work in American kitchens —if you could get your hands on the ingredients. The ingredients are non-negotiable to Kennedy. She insists on the importance of the right chile.

As one of the earliest and fiercest proponents of ecological living, edible gardens, water conservation and local self-sufficiency, she pre-dates Alice Waters. She very much earns her place in the small pantheon of great teachers like Paula Wolfert, Marcella Hazan and Julia Child, who expanded the scope and purpose of the cookbook. They made authentic world cuisines accessible to the American home cook.

Kennedy is difficult, aggressively opinionated and tends toward mean on camera, but she melts in the markets and kitchens of the residents of rural Mexico. What I love about this film is that the director captures the tension between the two Dianas: one a naughty, independent, judgmental bad girl, and the other an admiring, curious, gracious collector of culture.

Carroll’s touch is artistic. Every scene, every clip, every minute of original footage, reveals character. I was particularly taken by the meeting at the end of the movie between Kennedy and Gabriela Cámara, a woman who’s a true artist herself so warm and charming that even Kennedy falls for her. Cámara is responsible for one of the best restaurants in all of Mexico, Contramar, plus the unique Cala in San Francisco and My Mexico Kitchen, her own opinionated and political cookbook.

Diana Kennedy with Gabriella Cámara and Cala chef de cuisine Raymond Tamayo
Photo by Mark Mahaney for WSJ Magazine PHOTO:

This film gives you an intimate look at a woman who’s still razor-sharp despite her age, who demands respect, and who remains a fierce guardian of her own work. For Diana Kennedy, taste and sensibility mean everything. That Cámara is sincerely down with all this—and also happens to be the next in line when it comes to an authentic Mexico City voice—makes for a thrilling contrast. We get a spontaneous and original climax from a director who really knows how to create a good story.

Nothing Fancy: Diana Kennedy is showing at the Legacy Film Festival, May 24-31 as part of a program on food, “Savory Traditions.”

It can be viewed at your convenience during those dates.

A virtual Q&A took place with director Elizabeth Carroll, chef Alice Waters (Chez Panisse), chef Gabriela Cámara (Contramara & Cala), The New York Times food writer David Tanis en cookbook author & moderator Lesley Tellez.

The entire conversation can be watched anytime by clicking here.

Patricia Unterman is founder and co-owner of the Hayes Street Grill, a San Francisco seafood restaurant renowned for serving sustainably harvested fish and shellfish certified by the Monterey Bay Aquarium Seafood Watch.

She grew up in Evanston, Illinois and graduated from Stanford University, attending the graduate school of journalism at the University of California, Berkeley. After taking basic French cooking classes in the home kitchen of Josephine Araldo and practicing recipes from Julia Child, she opened a small restaurant in Berkeley in the early seventies called the Beggar’s Banquet. She started writing as the Underground Gourmet for New West Magazine. In 1979 she opened the Hayes Street Grill in San Francisco with three partners–Dick Sander, Ann Powning and Robert Flaherty. Unterman and Sander had Vicolo Pizzeria in an alley behind the restaurant from 1984 to 2004.

In 1979 she also became the restaurant critic for the San Francisco Chronicle, a job she held for the next fifteen years. Later, after writing the San Francisco Food Lovers’ Guide, she joined the San Francisco Examiner as a restaurant critic and food columnist, and wrote about food and travel for her newsletter/website Unterman on Food. She contributed the “Forward” for FrenchRoots: Two Cooks, Two Countries, and the Beautiful Food Along the Way by Jean-Pierre Moullé and for The SlantedDoor: Modern Vietnamese Food by Charles Phan. She currently writing a new piece for The Threepenny Review.

Patricia is a founding board member of CUESA and the Ferry Plaza Farmers’ Market where she shops for the restaurant every Tuesday and Saturday. The Hayes Street Grill has operated a popular food stand at the Saturday Market which will hopefully return soon after the pandemic is gone.


DIANA KENNEDY: NOTHING FANCY—INDEED

To tell you the truth, my dear film buffs, I’m a reader, not a moviegoer, and I only read fiction. If I watch a movie, it has to be in a movie house on a big screen and it has to promise a good story, ideally involving sex. Documentaries, for me, are a bore.

But despite all odds, I was mesmerized by a new documentary on the life of Diana Kennedy, the grouchy, 97-year-old writer of regional Mexican cookbooks, by first-time movie director Elizabeth Carroll. The film felt novelistic to me—nuanced, revealing, true. It picked me right up from a desk chair in front of my little computer screen and dropped me in the upland forests of Michoacán.

Director Elizabeth Carroll with Diana Kenned

On the face of it, Kennedy, would not seem to be a great candidate for a movie star. We in the food world know her as the groundbreaking, self-trained British anthropologist of regional Mexican food. From Chihuahua to the Yucatan, she traveled the length and breadth of Mexico by third-class bus and covered Nissan pick-up (where she often slept), following the trail of indigenous ingredients through village markets to home kitchens.

There, she meticulously took down the techniques that transformed these food stuffs into traditional and sometimes iconic dishes, developing recipes that might work in American kitchens —if you could get your hands on the ingredients. The ingredients are non-negotiable to Kennedy. She insists on the importance of the right chile.

As one of the earliest and fiercest proponents of ecological living, edible gardens, water conservation and local self-sufficiency, she pre-dates Alice Waters. She very much earns her place in the small pantheon of great teachers like Paula Wolfert, Marcella Hazan and Julia Child, who expanded the scope and purpose of the cookbook. They made authentic world cuisines accessible to the American home cook.

Kennedy is difficult, aggressively opinionated and tends toward mean on camera, but she melts in the markets and kitchens of the residents of rural Mexico. What I love about this film is that the director captures the tension between the two Dianas: one a naughty, independent, judgmental bad girl, and the other an admiring, curious, gracious collector of culture.

Carroll’s touch is artistic. Every scene, every clip, every minute of original footage, reveals character. I was particularly taken by the meeting at the end of the movie between Kennedy and Gabriela Cámara, a woman who’s a true artist herself so warm and charming that even Kennedy falls for her. Cámara is responsible for one of the best restaurants in all of Mexico, Contramar, plus the unique Cala in San Francisco and My Mexico Kitchen, her own opinionated and political cookbook.

Diana Kennedy with Gabriella Cámara and Cala chef de cuisine Raymond Tamayo
Photo by Mark Mahaney for WSJ Magazine PHOTO:

This film gives you an intimate look at a woman who’s still razor-sharp despite her age, who demands respect, and who remains a fierce guardian of her own work. For Diana Kennedy, taste and sensibility mean everything. That Cámara is sincerely down with all this—and also happens to be the next in line when it comes to an authentic Mexico City voice—makes for a thrilling contrast. We get a spontaneous and original climax from a director who really knows how to create a good story.

Nothing Fancy: Diana Kennedy is showing at the Legacy Film Festival, May 24-31 as part of a program on food, “Savory Traditions.”

It can be viewed at your convenience during those dates.

A virtual Q&A took place with director Elizabeth Carroll, chef Alice Waters (Chez Panisse), chef Gabriela Cámara (Contramara & Cala), The New York Times food writer David Tanis en cookbook author & moderator Lesley Tellez.

The entire conversation can be watched anytime by clicking here.

Patricia Unterman is founder and co-owner of the Hayes Street Grill, a San Francisco seafood restaurant renowned for serving sustainably harvested fish and shellfish certified by the Monterey Bay Aquarium Seafood Watch.

She grew up in Evanston, Illinois and graduated from Stanford University, attending the graduate school of journalism at the University of California, Berkeley. After taking basic French cooking classes in the home kitchen of Josephine Araldo and practicing recipes from Julia Child, she opened a small restaurant in Berkeley in the early seventies called the Beggar’s Banquet. She started writing as the Underground Gourmet for New West Magazine. In 1979 she opened the Hayes Street Grill in San Francisco with three partners–Dick Sander, Ann Powning and Robert Flaherty. Unterman and Sander had Vicolo Pizzeria in an alley behind the restaurant from 1984 to 2004.

In 1979 she also became the restaurant critic for the San Francisco Chronicle, a job she held for the next fifteen years. Later, after writing the San Francisco Food Lovers’ Guide, she joined the San Francisco Examiner as a restaurant critic and food columnist, and wrote about food and travel for her newsletter/website Unterman on Food. She contributed the “Forward” for FrenchRoots: Two Cooks, Two Countries, and the Beautiful Food Along the Way by Jean-Pierre Moullé and for The SlantedDoor: Modern Vietnamese Food by Charles Phan. She currently writing a new piece for The Threepenny Review.

Patricia is a founding board member of CUESA and the Ferry Plaza Farmers’ Market where she shops for the restaurant every Tuesday and Saturday. The Hayes Street Grill has operated a popular food stand at the Saturday Market which will hopefully return soon after the pandemic is gone.


DIANA KENNEDY: NOTHING FANCY—INDEED

To tell you the truth, my dear film buffs, I’m a reader, not a moviegoer, and I only read fiction. If I watch a movie, it has to be in a movie house on a big screen and it has to promise a good story, ideally involving sex. Documentaries, for me, are a bore.

But despite all odds, I was mesmerized by a new documentary on the life of Diana Kennedy, the grouchy, 97-year-old writer of regional Mexican cookbooks, by first-time movie director Elizabeth Carroll. The film felt novelistic to me—nuanced, revealing, true. It picked me right up from a desk chair in front of my little computer screen and dropped me in the upland forests of Michoacán.

Director Elizabeth Carroll with Diana Kenned

On the face of it, Kennedy, would not seem to be a great candidate for a movie star. We in the food world know her as the groundbreaking, self-trained British anthropologist of regional Mexican food. From Chihuahua to the Yucatan, she traveled the length and breadth of Mexico by third-class bus and covered Nissan pick-up (where she often slept), following the trail of indigenous ingredients through village markets to home kitchens.

There, she meticulously took down the techniques that transformed these food stuffs into traditional and sometimes iconic dishes, developing recipes that might work in American kitchens —if you could get your hands on the ingredients. The ingredients are non-negotiable to Kennedy. She insists on the importance of the right chile.

As one of the earliest and fiercest proponents of ecological living, edible gardens, water conservation and local self-sufficiency, she pre-dates Alice Waters. She very much earns her place in the small pantheon of great teachers like Paula Wolfert, Marcella Hazan and Julia Child, who expanded the scope and purpose of the cookbook. They made authentic world cuisines accessible to the American home cook.

Kennedy is difficult, aggressively opinionated and tends toward mean on camera, but she melts in the markets and kitchens of the residents of rural Mexico. What I love about this film is that the director captures the tension between the two Dianas: one a naughty, independent, judgmental bad girl, and the other an admiring, curious, gracious collector of culture.

Carroll’s touch is artistic. Every scene, every clip, every minute of original footage, reveals character. I was particularly taken by the meeting at the end of the movie between Kennedy and Gabriela Cámara, a woman who’s a true artist herself so warm and charming that even Kennedy falls for her. Cámara is responsible for one of the best restaurants in all of Mexico, Contramar, plus the unique Cala in San Francisco and My Mexico Kitchen, her own opinionated and political cookbook.

Diana Kennedy with Gabriella Cámara and Cala chef de cuisine Raymond Tamayo
Photo by Mark Mahaney for WSJ Magazine PHOTO:

This film gives you an intimate look at a woman who’s still razor-sharp despite her age, who demands respect, and who remains a fierce guardian of her own work. For Diana Kennedy, taste and sensibility mean everything. That Cámara is sincerely down with all this—and also happens to be the next in line when it comes to an authentic Mexico City voice—makes for a thrilling contrast. We get a spontaneous and original climax from a director who really knows how to create a good story.

Nothing Fancy: Diana Kennedy is showing at the Legacy Film Festival, May 24-31 as part of a program on food, “Savory Traditions.”

It can be viewed at your convenience during those dates.

A virtual Q&A took place with director Elizabeth Carroll, chef Alice Waters (Chez Panisse), chef Gabriela Cámara (Contramara & Cala), The New York Times food writer David Tanis en cookbook author & moderator Lesley Tellez.

The entire conversation can be watched anytime by clicking here.

Patricia Unterman is founder and co-owner of the Hayes Street Grill, a San Francisco seafood restaurant renowned for serving sustainably harvested fish and shellfish certified by the Monterey Bay Aquarium Seafood Watch.

She grew up in Evanston, Illinois and graduated from Stanford University, attending the graduate school of journalism at the University of California, Berkeley. After taking basic French cooking classes in the home kitchen of Josephine Araldo and practicing recipes from Julia Child, she opened a small restaurant in Berkeley in the early seventies called the Beggar’s Banquet. She started writing as the Underground Gourmet for New West Magazine. In 1979 she opened the Hayes Street Grill in San Francisco with three partners–Dick Sander, Ann Powning and Robert Flaherty. Unterman and Sander had Vicolo Pizzeria in an alley behind the restaurant from 1984 to 2004.

In 1979 she also became the restaurant critic for the San Francisco Chronicle, a job she held for the next fifteen years. Later, after writing the San Francisco Food Lovers’ Guide, she joined the San Francisco Examiner as a restaurant critic and food columnist, and wrote about food and travel for her newsletter/website Unterman on Food. She contributed the “Forward” for FrenchRoots: Two Cooks, Two Countries, and the Beautiful Food Along the Way by Jean-Pierre Moullé and for The SlantedDoor: Modern Vietnamese Food by Charles Phan. She currently writing a new piece for The Threepenny Review.

Patricia is a founding board member of CUESA and the Ferry Plaza Farmers’ Market where she shops for the restaurant every Tuesday and Saturday. The Hayes Street Grill has operated a popular food stand at the Saturday Market which will hopefully return soon after the pandemic is gone.


DIANA KENNEDY: NOTHING FANCY—INDEED

To tell you the truth, my dear film buffs, I’m a reader, not a moviegoer, and I only read fiction. If I watch a movie, it has to be in a movie house on a big screen and it has to promise a good story, ideally involving sex. Documentaries, for me, are a bore.

But despite all odds, I was mesmerized by a new documentary on the life of Diana Kennedy, the grouchy, 97-year-old writer of regional Mexican cookbooks, by first-time movie director Elizabeth Carroll. The film felt novelistic to me—nuanced, revealing, true. It picked me right up from a desk chair in front of my little computer screen and dropped me in the upland forests of Michoacán.

Director Elizabeth Carroll with Diana Kenned

On the face of it, Kennedy, would not seem to be a great candidate for a movie star. We in the food world know her as the groundbreaking, self-trained British anthropologist of regional Mexican food. From Chihuahua to the Yucatan, she traveled the length and breadth of Mexico by third-class bus and covered Nissan pick-up (where she often slept), following the trail of indigenous ingredients through village markets to home kitchens.

There, she meticulously took down the techniques that transformed these food stuffs into traditional and sometimes iconic dishes, developing recipes that might work in American kitchens —if you could get your hands on the ingredients. The ingredients are non-negotiable to Kennedy. She insists on the importance of the right chile.

As one of the earliest and fiercest proponents of ecological living, edible gardens, water conservation and local self-sufficiency, she pre-dates Alice Waters. She very much earns her place in the small pantheon of great teachers like Paula Wolfert, Marcella Hazan and Julia Child, who expanded the scope and purpose of the cookbook. They made authentic world cuisines accessible to the American home cook.

Kennedy is difficult, aggressively opinionated and tends toward mean on camera, but she melts in the markets and kitchens of the residents of rural Mexico. What I love about this film is that the director captures the tension between the two Dianas: one a naughty, independent, judgmental bad girl, and the other an admiring, curious, gracious collector of culture.

Carroll’s touch is artistic. Every scene, every clip, every minute of original footage, reveals character. I was particularly taken by the meeting at the end of the movie between Kennedy and Gabriela Cámara, a woman who’s a true artist herself so warm and charming that even Kennedy falls for her. Cámara is responsible for one of the best restaurants in all of Mexico, Contramar, plus the unique Cala in San Francisco and My Mexico Kitchen, her own opinionated and political cookbook.

Diana Kennedy with Gabriella Cámara and Cala chef de cuisine Raymond Tamayo
Photo by Mark Mahaney for WSJ Magazine PHOTO:

This film gives you an intimate look at a woman who’s still razor-sharp despite her age, who demands respect, and who remains a fierce guardian of her own work. For Diana Kennedy, taste and sensibility mean everything. That Cámara is sincerely down with all this—and also happens to be the next in line when it comes to an authentic Mexico City voice—makes for a thrilling contrast. We get a spontaneous and original climax from a director who really knows how to create a good story.

Nothing Fancy: Diana Kennedy is showing at the Legacy Film Festival, May 24-31 as part of a program on food, “Savory Traditions.”

It can be viewed at your convenience during those dates.

A virtual Q&A took place with director Elizabeth Carroll, chef Alice Waters (Chez Panisse), chef Gabriela Cámara (Contramara & Cala), The New York Times food writer David Tanis en cookbook author & moderator Lesley Tellez.

The entire conversation can be watched anytime by clicking here.

Patricia Unterman is founder and co-owner of the Hayes Street Grill, a San Francisco seafood restaurant renowned for serving sustainably harvested fish and shellfish certified by the Monterey Bay Aquarium Seafood Watch.

She grew up in Evanston, Illinois and graduated from Stanford University, attending the graduate school of journalism at the University of California, Berkeley. After taking basic French cooking classes in the home kitchen of Josephine Araldo and practicing recipes from Julia Child, she opened a small restaurant in Berkeley in the early seventies called the Beggar’s Banquet. She started writing as the Underground Gourmet for New West Magazine. In 1979 she opened the Hayes Street Grill in San Francisco with three partners–Dick Sander, Ann Powning and Robert Flaherty. Unterman and Sander had Vicolo Pizzeria in an alley behind the restaurant from 1984 to 2004.

In 1979 she also became the restaurant critic for the San Francisco Chronicle, a job she held for the next fifteen years. Later, after writing the San Francisco Food Lovers’ Guide, she joined the San Francisco Examiner as a restaurant critic and food columnist, and wrote about food and travel for her newsletter/website Unterman on Food. She contributed the “Forward” for FrenchRoots: Two Cooks, Two Countries, and the Beautiful Food Along the Way by Jean-Pierre Moullé and for The SlantedDoor: Modern Vietnamese Food by Charles Phan. She currently writing a new piece for The Threepenny Review.

Patricia is a founding board member of CUESA and the Ferry Plaza Farmers’ Market where she shops for the restaurant every Tuesday and Saturday. The Hayes Street Grill has operated a popular food stand at the Saturday Market which will hopefully return soon after the pandemic is gone.


DIANA KENNEDY: NOTHING FANCY—INDEED

To tell you the truth, my dear film buffs, I’m a reader, not a moviegoer, and I only read fiction. If I watch a movie, it has to be in a movie house on a big screen and it has to promise a good story, ideally involving sex. Documentaries, for me, are a bore.

But despite all odds, I was mesmerized by a new documentary on the life of Diana Kennedy, the grouchy, 97-year-old writer of regional Mexican cookbooks, by first-time movie director Elizabeth Carroll. The film felt novelistic to me—nuanced, revealing, true. It picked me right up from a desk chair in front of my little computer screen and dropped me in the upland forests of Michoacán.

Director Elizabeth Carroll with Diana Kenned

On the face of it, Kennedy, would not seem to be a great candidate for a movie star. We in the food world know her as the groundbreaking, self-trained British anthropologist of regional Mexican food. From Chihuahua to the Yucatan, she traveled the length and breadth of Mexico by third-class bus and covered Nissan pick-up (where she often slept), following the trail of indigenous ingredients through village markets to home kitchens.

There, she meticulously took down the techniques that transformed these food stuffs into traditional and sometimes iconic dishes, developing recipes that might work in American kitchens —if you could get your hands on the ingredients. The ingredients are non-negotiable to Kennedy. She insists on the importance of the right chile.

As one of the earliest and fiercest proponents of ecological living, edible gardens, water conservation and local self-sufficiency, she pre-dates Alice Waters. She very much earns her place in the small pantheon of great teachers like Paula Wolfert, Marcella Hazan and Julia Child, who expanded the scope and purpose of the cookbook. They made authentic world cuisines accessible to the American home cook.

Kennedy is difficult, aggressively opinionated and tends toward mean on camera, but she melts in the markets and kitchens of the residents of rural Mexico. What I love about this film is that the director captures the tension between the two Dianas: one a naughty, independent, judgmental bad girl, and the other an admiring, curious, gracious collector of culture.

Carroll’s touch is artistic. Every scene, every clip, every minute of original footage, reveals character. I was particularly taken by the meeting at the end of the movie between Kennedy and Gabriela Cámara, a woman who’s a true artist herself so warm and charming that even Kennedy falls for her. Cámara is responsible for one of the best restaurants in all of Mexico, Contramar, plus the unique Cala in San Francisco and My Mexico Kitchen, her own opinionated and political cookbook.

Diana Kennedy with Gabriella Cámara and Cala chef de cuisine Raymond Tamayo
Photo by Mark Mahaney for WSJ Magazine PHOTO:

This film gives you an intimate look at a woman who’s still razor-sharp despite her age, who demands respect, and who remains a fierce guardian of her own work. For Diana Kennedy, taste and sensibility mean everything. That Cámara is sincerely down with all this—and also happens to be the next in line when it comes to an authentic Mexico City voice—makes for a thrilling contrast. We get a spontaneous and original climax from a director who really knows how to create a good story.

Nothing Fancy: Diana Kennedy is showing at the Legacy Film Festival, May 24-31 as part of a program on food, “Savory Traditions.”

It can be viewed at your convenience during those dates.

A virtual Q&A took place with director Elizabeth Carroll, chef Alice Waters (Chez Panisse), chef Gabriela Cámara (Contramara & Cala), The New York Times food writer David Tanis en cookbook author & moderator Lesley Tellez.

The entire conversation can be watched anytime by clicking here.

Patricia Unterman is founder and co-owner of the Hayes Street Grill, a San Francisco seafood restaurant renowned for serving sustainably harvested fish and shellfish certified by the Monterey Bay Aquarium Seafood Watch.

She grew up in Evanston, Illinois and graduated from Stanford University, attending the graduate school of journalism at the University of California, Berkeley. After taking basic French cooking classes in the home kitchen of Josephine Araldo and practicing recipes from Julia Child, she opened a small restaurant in Berkeley in the early seventies called the Beggar’s Banquet. She started writing as the Underground Gourmet for New West Magazine. In 1979 she opened the Hayes Street Grill in San Francisco with three partners–Dick Sander, Ann Powning and Robert Flaherty. Unterman and Sander had Vicolo Pizzeria in an alley behind the restaurant from 1984 to 2004.

In 1979 she also became the restaurant critic for the San Francisco Chronicle, a job she held for the next fifteen years. Later, after writing the San Francisco Food Lovers’ Guide, she joined the San Francisco Examiner as a restaurant critic and food columnist, and wrote about food and travel for her newsletter/website Unterman on Food. She contributed the “Forward” for FrenchRoots: Two Cooks, Two Countries, and the Beautiful Food Along the Way by Jean-Pierre Moullé and for The SlantedDoor: Modern Vietnamese Food by Charles Phan. She currently writing a new piece for The Threepenny Review.

Patricia is a founding board member of CUESA and the Ferry Plaza Farmers’ Market where she shops for the restaurant every Tuesday and Saturday. The Hayes Street Grill has operated a popular food stand at the Saturday Market which will hopefully return soon after the pandemic is gone.


Kyk die video: Jackie Kennedy Was A True Style Icon But Her Shoes H-id An Intimate Secret (Mei 2022).


Kommentaar:

  1. Dusar

    Ek was nie hier nie.

  2. Farnall

    Uit hul aard is mans meer geïnteresseerd in die vraag wat om te doen? En vroue - wie is die skuld?

  3. Channe

    Na my mening is dit 'n interessante vraag, ek sal aan bespreking deelneem. Ek weet dat ons saam tot 'n regte antwoord kan kom.

  4. Banain

    U maak 'n fout.

  5. Esteban

    Tydige argument

  6. Vura

    Ek wens geluk, 'n briljante idee en dit is behoorlik

  7. Ailin

    Bravo, what necessary words..., an excellent idea



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