"New Yorker" news and stories

As much as I attempt to pander to the populous, and despite amplifying ubiquity on local store shelves and pub draft dockets alike, proper craft beer appreciation still seems to be relegated to the realm of "beer snobbery." And gosh darn it, articles in the freakin' New Yorker aren't going to help anything!

But all kidding aside, I was turned on to this extensive article in The New Yorker discussing "The rise of extreme beer." Hmm... If the X-Games eventually garnered mainstream acceptance, maybe xtreme beer will have its day in the sun. [Writer's note: This officially marks the first and last time I will write the phrase "xtreme beer." You're welcome.]

My suggestion: Print this article out and hit the couch for a leisurely weekend read. Maybe have a bottle of Dogfish Head nearby: The Delaware brewery is used as the framing example and you may be salivating to make yourself a primary source by article's end. Most interesting, however, is the interspersed history lesson packed full of wonderful tidbits such as "In 1873, the country had some four thousand breweries, working in dozens of regional and ethnic styles." Craft beer revolution? Maybe it's more like the craft beer renaissance!

[via Madison Beer Review] [Photo Credit: The New Yorker]

If you read one magazine article this week, definitely check out the New Yorker profile of Chicago chef Grant Achatz. The wunderkind behind the molecular gastronomy mecca Alinea, Achatz is currently running the show without a sense of taste. In what must be one of the worst cases of irony ever, the 34-year old was diagnosed with Stage IV tongue cancer earlier this year. Though he refused the standard treatment that would have involved removing most of his tongue, radiation therapy has nonetheless zapped, at least temporarily, most of his taste buds.

Still, Achatz presides over the Alinea kitchen, guiding his employees in the creation of his trademark outrageous confections - desserts of strawberry, olive, and violet essence; squab candy bars; pea and smoked salmon lollipops. Slowly, his sense of taste is returning - he can now taste salt and sugar again, and expects regain the ability to detect more subtleties as the months pass. He even hopes the experience will make him a more creative, edgier chef. Though coming from the man who served dehydrated bacon suspended from a silver scaffold during opening week, I'm not sure what that means.

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My grandfather, who died in 2001 at the age of 91, used to proudly announce that he had been subscribing to the New Yorker since its inception in 1925. Whether or not that tidbit was exactly true, that magazine lost a loyal customer when he died, as he did subscribe as long as I knew him (and I was nearly 22 when he made his exit). I used to love to sort through the stacks of back issues that lived on the coffee table in my grandparents' den whenever we visited them, for the old food issues as well as any that featured fiction from authors I knew.

The folks at the New Yorker have put together a slide show of 21 covers that feature food, drink and dining that range from 1925 all the way up to September 2007. It's an interesting thing to take a peek at, because it gives you a glimpse at how our cultural perspective on food has shifted.

[via Serious Eats]

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All you Tab drinkers out there should get a kick out of a New Yorker story about the love for the pink can in the journalism world. In a recent Talk of the Town section, Ben McGrath quotes several Tab lovers, including Atlantic Monthly owner David Bradley, who describes the diet-cola-loving clique as "a lonely but inspired society." New York Times film critic David Edelstein talks about a keen ability to scan shelves of beverages and find the prized pink cylinder and former Washington Post editor Steve Isaacs even has his journalism students brainstorm story ideas based on Tab. There's also talk of the new Tab Energy drink, but, as long as regular Tab is still around, it doesn't really sound like anyone will care.