Word On Food

On The Poetic Nature of Bonito

A calming Japanese ode to a staple ingredient
Oct 4, 2012 12:01 pm

Katsuobushi (or bonito, if you like) is the main ingredient in dashi, the “mother” to miso soup and, in essence, the Japanese equivalent of a Jewish mother’s chicken soup. So you know it's good for you. Learn all about it from Norman Van Aken in this week's Word On Food.

On Accras: The Culture Of Caribbean Fritters

The delicious origins of black-eyed pea fritters
Sep 21, 2012 9:01 am

Discover all the fritter terminology the culinary world has to offer, with Norman Van Aken's Word On Food. 

A Tribute To The Refreshing Batidos

Fruity milkshake that can pack a real punch
Jul 19, 2012 5:02 pm

With the heat of summer reaching across the country, it's time to learn another trick our Latin neighbors employ when the thermometer is fire red: batidos. All about this refreshing beverage after the jump.

A Revised History Of Black Bean Soup

How a classic soup went for a Caribbean spin
Jul 13, 2012 10:01 am

One of the godfathers of Florida cooking explains how he learned to put a Caribbean twist into that ol' standby, black bean soup. It's kind of a funny story...

On The Life And Death Of Chickens

Norman Van Aken visits the markets in Barcelona
Jun 8, 2012 1:01 pm

Norman Van Aken witnesses the art of butchering chickens in Barcelona, then has spiritual hallucinations. Read more after the jump.

On The Many Virtues Of Corn

Norman Van Aken's ode to this New World crop
Jun 1, 2012 12:01 pm
Roasted Corn

Norman Van Aken recalls childhood corn roasts and praises the endless uses for corn in today's diet.

On Carving Up Country Ham

A preserved pork tradition with Southern roots
May 24, 2012 10:02 am
country ham

Norman Van Aken takes a class with Ham Masters at the Atlanta Food and Wine festival, recalls his first experience with "inedible-looking" country ham and accepts a challenge. 

Recalling The Pleasures of Blood

Norman Van Aken relives his best blood experiences
Apr 20, 2012 2:31 pm
Blood Sausage

I walked into our kitchen on a quiet Saturday morning and I inhaled an aroma I’d known
before I knew it’s name. It was blood. It spiraled me back in time to a grocery store/butcher
shop where my mother routinely shopped for our family. She probably carried me in there
before the age of one and slung me from hip to hip while she selected our food and put it in
the small cart. 


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