Sketched out a poster for an upcoming concert in the hour before I left for work. Somehow, even when it’s not about food, it’s still about food. Feels nice to doodle again. It would be nice to get back into silkscreening and make proper concert posters, but this is okay for now. (Also, this concert is going to be incredible. Please come out!)
Thank you to everybody that came out for the Spectre Folk and MV+EE concert last week at La Brique. The music was incredible, and the night super fun.
Because La Brique has a big kitchen, I decided to make everyone a massive dinner before the show: a savory potato-rosemary tart in whole wheat pastry; Richard Olney’s zucchini gratin (the key is plenty of anchovies and a freshly-made persillade); Richard Olney’s baked eggplant with fresh tomato sauce and ricotta; wild arugula tossed in mustard-walnut oil vinaigrette; smoked salmon, taramosalata, dill, Beluga lentil “caviar,” and lemon wedges on toasted Fairmount bagels; and Lulu‘s (by way of Richard Olney) gorgeous walnut gateaux with homemade crème fraîche and halved Quebec plums (Lulu’s book can be hard to find; David Lebovitz presents his adaptation of Lulu’s cake here).
But the most popular dish of the evening? An unexpected combination of pickled carrots, diced celery, and clams, smuggled in from Saint-Pierre and Miquelon. Oceanic, bracing, and very pleasantly chewy.
Breakfast. If I could, I would eat smashed avocado and fleur de sel on toast every single morning. Feels right.
Lunch. Apparently I wasn’t tired of avocado on toast yet, because I added tomato, lettuce, smoked turkey, swiss cheese, and mustard, and had that for lunch, too. (I love eating the same thing in a row, many times over, until I either get sick of it or run out of it.)
And dinner. Pheasant breast wrapped in caul and stuffed with minced mushrooms, served with double smoked bacon, braised green beans, and baby potatoes and carrots roasted in bacon grease. It’s still pretty hot out, but I’m already craving cozy, warm meals, and this was perfectly rich and decadent.
Also, some housekeeping:
Voir recently interviewed me for a piece about the series of culinary workshops I’ve been curating at Le Pick Up. Read it here! (In French). Don’t forget — the next one is August 25!
And: Yesterday I joined forces with the estimable Venus collective over at CKUT. Um, it was so much fun, and it felt great to get back into radio after a few years of silence. I played songs by Noveller, Gang Gang Dance, Sade, and Grouper. Good times. Plus, I finally met Amber! Oh, and also? I was invited to curate the month of November for their popular ‘Montreal Sessions’ program. I’m so stoked!
And lastly: I interviewed Peter Gershon, my editor at Signal to Noise magazine, for a story in Foxy Digitalis. Read it here.
Posted in food, home, music, work, writers
Tagged a day of meals, ckut, depanneur le pick up, foxy digitalis, venus collective, voir, writing
For all our Montreal friends, a musical announcement...
>>Popcorn Youth presents…
SPECTRE FOLK [Brooklyn, NY]
MV+EE [Brattleboro, VT]
Les Momies de Palerme [Montreal]
La Brique / 6545 Durocher #402
9pm doors / 9:30pm start
Sliding scale $8-10
Saturday, August 20 / a night of gorgeous psychedelic folk, heavy drone jams + sudden pop exploration
We are so so excited and honored to welcome Spectre Folk to our city. Spectre Folk is led by Pete Nolan (of GHQ, Magik Markers, and Arbitrary Signs fame) and Peter Meehan (oh and their drummer is Steve Shelley – yes that Steve Shelley – of Sonic Youth!). Earlier this spring they celebrated their latest release, the EP “The Blackest Medicine, Vol. 2,” on Woodsist Records. This is going to be a really special night. PLEASE RSVP to me, natasha.pickowicz AT gmail DOT com to get your name on the guestlist as it is a private event. Thanks + hope to see you there!
Earlier this year I contributed my first piece to the journal Yeti, and the issue is out now. I wrote a piece about my friend Spencer Clark, and I’m stoked that my editor ended up using the title for the article that I suggested (usually my titles are so, so bad; it’s always the hardest part of the article writing, at least for me): “Your Own Personal Vibe Coach.”
I’m honored to be in the company of the other seriously awesome contributors, which include Liz Harris (of Grouper); Marcellus Hall and Olivia Wyatt. Montreal friends, the issue is available at Drawn & Quarterly. Other friends, you can order it online.
Now that my story is published, I can share the rest of my foraging photos with you! Although I was out there primarily to hunt for ramps, we gathered lots of other treats, like fiddleheads, wild ginger, dandelion greens, and crinkle root. (We made use of everything: the fiddleheads sauteed with bacon and folded into pasta; the wild ginger was great steeped in hot water, like tea; and I adored the dandelion greens salad, dressed simply with a lemon-mustard vinaigrette). After such a long and cold winter, it felt really spectacular to be out in the damp forest, discovering new life in every corner. It was insanely fun.
And it really is true what they say — once you know what to look for, you start seeing wild vegetables everywhere. Once I saw my first fiddlehead, I couldn’t stop seeing them!
I wish I had remembered to post this a full day earlier, but I’ve had a long week—
Benoît Chaput, founder of L’Oie de Cravan Press and bilingual cultural journal Le Bathyscaphe, hosted a wonderful triple-book release and concert last night at the Sala Rossa. I wrote a teeny thing about it for the Montreal Mirror, excerpted here:
Manhattan-born critic Byron Coley began documenting the music underground in the 1970s, as strains of rock, punk, noise and free jazz thrashed and congealed into something startlingly electric. C’est la guerre: Early Writing 1978-1983 traces the contours of his earliest writing, with thrilling, wry essays on musicians like David Bowie, Lydia Lunch, and the Minutemen.
Friday also launches The Words to the Songs of Michael Hurley, a bilingual book of lyrics by American folk legend Michael Hurley. His sweet melodies and eccentric visual imagery make Hurley—perpetually underrated for four decades—one of America’s finest songwriters, yet The Words to the Songs marks the first time his lyrics have been published in book form.
I’ve been an admirer of Coley’s acerbic, Beatnik-flecked music journalism for quite some time (that’s him in the photo above), and his columns for Arthur and The Wire add a much needed levity and wittiness to both pubs. And, of course, my love for the Snock knows no bounds, though admittedly I was surprised at how indie rock-ified most of the music was last night. Was hoping for more of an old-soul vibe, but c’est la vie!
Buy these books from L’Oie de Cravan now!