David Auerbach

Food is too cheap. It’s a bit nervy to claim that food is too cheap. Slow Food (slowfoodusa.org), an organization I belong to and support, has gone on record claiming that food is too cheap. Needless to say, such an elitist claim has been denounced as being, well, elitist. After all, poor people, here or […]

In my ideal world there would be an almost year-round farmers’ market, with ample supplies of locally raised meats and produce. Not a fantastic fantasy; there are cities with climates much less congenial to long growing seasons than ours that achieve this fecund feat. In my actual, non-ideal, world, I am often at the grocery […]

I’ve got a word problem. “When I use a word,” Humpty Dumpty said in a rather a scornful tone, “it means just what I choose it to mean–neither more nor less.” This Humpty Dumpty theory of language was rightly doubted by the redoubtable Alice. Certainly words don’t mean whatever I want them to. But that’s […]

My south is the South Bronx, where Southern cooking was not on the menu. Peas were fresh, green, round and came in bright, green pods. When I got sophisticated–that is, when I ventured south–I learned of black-eyed peas and greens. I also learned of moo shu pork and lamb vindaloo and other culinary delights down […]

My first cookbook, well-thumbed and food-stained, was one I both wrote and published. I was 11, and it was plagiarized from my mother’s recipe drawer and badgered from her brain. I wasn’t culinarily motivated–I was taking a typing class and transcribing recipes seemed like good practice, more purposeful than copying random passages out of books. […]