My mother's family is Moroccan and to them, everything equals food. Visits from family: food. Saturdays: food. Sundays, Mondays and Tuesdays: food. Getting on a plane = packing food. My suitcase from a recent trip to Toronto was, in fact, full of Tupperware containers of couscous, tagines and salads when I got home. Here’s how someone homesick for Moroccan copes:
1. I get preserved lemons from Rainbow Grocery. You can find them in one of the bins at the back of the store, near the olives. I dice them and put them in salads with chopped tomatoes, cucumbers, hearts of celery and onion. And a dash of parsley.
Jeff Hollinger in action.
Photo courtesy of Frankie Frankeny.
I read food books more than I read anything else. Whether I'm deep in a new cookbook—I just bought James Oseland's (editor-in-chief of Saveur magazine) divine Cradle of Flavor—or eating up one of Diane Mott Davidson's food-centered murder mysteries, food and good writing seem to go together like beaches and barbecues, or popsicles and summer days. Here are some of the books lying next to my bed right now—some other time, we'll have to talk food films.
The dynamic trio behind Salt House and Town Hall (Doug Washington and Mitchell and Steve Rosenthal) are at it again. Their latest venture, Anchor & Hope, is an oyster and fish house with a San Francisco sensibility—it’s opening April 21 (83 Minna St., 415-501-9100). Here, Doug Washington (the front-of-the-house man) dishes on the new spot.
How did you come up with the name?
Anchor and Hope is the name of an old tavern in London that we absolutely love.
Did you try to evoke that pub in any other way?