Every year around this time, my name has started being invoked in print. I mean, I'm not mad about it, but it's been nine years, so I think I can say "invoked" and be happy about it. I am honored, I am smilingly proud, and I am a hometown girl.
I am the Charlotte ghost lady, such as it is.
Ok. It's true that I have moved on personally -- there is no "Williams" any more, but I've also moved on professionally. I've quit writing so much about the subject of ghosts and moved to the more universal subject of food (we all love food!!), but I remember that time long ago when I wanted to be remembered for something. Well, now it looks like I am remembered for documenting that weird shadow on the stairs ... or that stale scent of cigar smoke.
If that's how it is, ok.
It's that time of year, so I am happy to report my little book, Ghost Stories of Charlotte and Mecklenburg County: Remnants of the Past in a New South is once again in the slick pages. Thanks to Charlotte Magazine for your kind inclusion of three of my stories and multiple quotes. There ARE ghosts afoot to be sure this time o' year -- I just hope they are interested in reading about pickles, cause that's what is hot in 2012. Well, that and pimento cheese. So I hope they're hungry.
Showing posts with label food writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label food writing. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Monday, May 14, 2012
The Sweet Life
Sometimes you don't know what you did to deserve the good luck you have.
That's the way I feel about working with the editors of The Local Palate. Not only are they communicative, supportive and quality-driven, the assignments from them are my version of a free Ferris wheel ride. In other words, it feels like fun a lot more than it feels like work.
Case in point: my latest feature article in this month's issue. It's on tea. That's right. The stuff I receive for gifts, that is in my SIGG bottle instead of water, that pretty much fuels my day.
This assignment was to write specifically about Sweet Tea (capital letters required). And no, not sweetened tea. Sweet Tea.
Bill Hall drove me around the tea plantation on a golf cart one early spring afternoon, my pulse already slowed by the drive out to the island through live oak shadows and sun on marsh reaching almost to the asphalt. Bill was generous with his time, had the most fascinating way he rolled his own cigarettes, and fed two farm cats while we visited. We looked at baby tea leaves and talked about London in the early 70s, and it was a good day.
It made me dream of warmer weather and summer and sipping in the sweetness. And look, it's here -- drink it in.
That's the way I feel about working with the editors of The Local Palate. Not only are they communicative, supportive and quality-driven, the assignments from them are my version of a free Ferris wheel ride. In other words, it feels like fun a lot more than it feels like work.
Case in point: my latest feature article in this month's issue. It's on tea. That's right. The stuff I receive for gifts, that is in my SIGG bottle instead of water, that pretty much fuels my day.
This assignment was to write specifically about Sweet Tea (capital letters required). And no, not sweetened tea. Sweet Tea.
Bill Hall drove me around the tea plantation on a golf cart one early spring afternoon, my pulse already slowed by the drive out to the island through live oak shadows and sun on marsh reaching almost to the asphalt. Bill was generous with his time, had the most fascinating way he rolled his own cigarettes, and fed two farm cats while we visited. We looked at baby tea leaves and talked about London in the early 70s, and it was a good day.
It made me dream of warmer weather and summer and sipping in the sweetness. And look, it's here -- drink it in.
Monday, April 23, 2012
Don't underestimate research
"I've been to the Jack Daniels distillery."
As soon as it escaped my lips, I knew. I was talking, making bad small talk, actually, with the editor of a BOURBON lifestyle magazine. At that moment, I didn't really know there was a bourbon lifestyle, much less a publication devoted to it.
But there is. Case in point on the Jack Daniels: click here.
Jack Daniels is a Tennessee Whisky, y'all. Not a bourbon. However, the gentleman politely blinked his eyes to gather himself, and then said, "That's great. We're from Kentucky, so Jack Daniels isn't technically a bourbon, but ..."
The essence of politeness, graciousness, and all things the bourbon lifestyle I presume. We smiled and chatted, but I knew the bell was tolling for me. It was obvious I knew nothing, especially not enough to not mention Jack Daniels.
But herein lies the power of research, ladies and gentleman, and a warning. Sometimes life at the little desk is not about writing, but about researching, and on bourbon I was enthusiastic but ignorant.
That means, Steph, you can talk a man under the table any day, and find a 1000 other connections besides this. Do not talk about what you do not know.
This goes for writing too. Yes, you can write an article on ventricular malfunctions, but it will take some serious research unless that field comes to you. And if so, it's easy. If not, you set yourself up for failure, as readers often know more than you in such cases.
For me, food research comes somewhat naturally. I follow food writers on twitter, read food books, follow food news, and well, after all, eat and cook. I enjoy reading about food. But if you think Zaxby's is the height of living, then it could be hard to get serious about food writing.
As for me and bourbon -- I just need to get serious. I am ready for an education past Knob Creek and Maker's Mark. That is, if my palate is worthy of passing those gateways ... if I say I love rye whisky does that help?
As soon as it escaped my lips, I knew. I was talking, making bad small talk, actually, with the editor of a BOURBON lifestyle magazine. At that moment, I didn't really know there was a bourbon lifestyle, much less a publication devoted to it.
But there is. Case in point on the Jack Daniels: click here.
Jack Daniels is a Tennessee Whisky, y'all. Not a bourbon. However, the gentleman politely blinked his eyes to gather himself, and then said, "That's great. We're from Kentucky, so Jack Daniels isn't technically a bourbon, but ..."
The essence of politeness, graciousness, and all things the bourbon lifestyle I presume. We smiled and chatted, but I knew the bell was tolling for me. It was obvious I knew nothing, especially not enough to not mention Jack Daniels.
But herein lies the power of research, ladies and gentleman, and a warning. Sometimes life at the little desk is not about writing, but about researching, and on bourbon I was enthusiastic but ignorant.
That means, Steph, you can talk a man under the table any day, and find a 1000 other connections besides this. Do not talk about what you do not know.
This goes for writing too. Yes, you can write an article on ventricular malfunctions, but it will take some serious research unless that field comes to you. And if so, it's easy. If not, you set yourself up for failure, as readers often know more than you in such cases.
For me, food research comes somewhat naturally. I follow food writers on twitter, read food books, follow food news, and well, after all, eat and cook. I enjoy reading about food. But if you think Zaxby's is the height of living, then it could be hard to get serious about food writing.
As for me and bourbon -- I just need to get serious. I am ready for an education past Knob Creek and Maker's Mark. That is, if my palate is worthy of passing those gateways ... if I say I love rye whisky does that help?
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Belated Wine and Food Fest Gushing
OK, I know it's been almost a month since the BB&T Charleston Wine + Food Festival, but since it's sincerely one of the highlights of my calendar year, I'm still basking in the glow from this year's events. Each year is a bit the same and yet very different, and although I anticipate and plan a bit for the events, I really can never predict the fun that will ensue.
Two favorite unexpected aspects from this year:
-- The rise of the cocktail, and thus, the rise of the amount of spirit sampling in the grand tasting tents.
For an unseasonably warm weekend, the refreshing Ascot from Icebox was a wonderful respite, but by far, the stand out in this category was Cardinal Gin, hailing from Kings Mountain in N.C. The story is awesome -- twin brothers and their daddy, but even better is the gin. They were providing mini gin and tonics, and the buzz around how good this stuff was, the botanicals that were clearly evident in the sip, was a favorite conversation.
It's available at multiple locations in the Charleston area, so yippee for supporting small business and my taste buds at the same time.
-- Industry talk.
This year, for me, it was even more of a learning experience. The parties were awesome, yes, but so were the panel discussions on topics ranging from cookbooks to choosing a fish. Immersion was the key here, well, that, and getting over the free sample thing. Just lining up like cattle to get a sample can be fun for a while, but why not stop and talk to the producers you like and pick their brains? Or better yet, explore the festival beyond the tasting tents?
When you do this, it is like a food homecoming, talking shop as it were, whether you are chef, producer or enthusiast. The feeling is mutual.
Two favorite unexpected aspects from this year:
-- The rise of the cocktail, and thus, the rise of the amount of spirit sampling in the grand tasting tents.
.JPG) |
| The Ascot in mass quantities in its dispenser |
For an unseasonably warm weekend, the refreshing Ascot from Icebox was a wonderful respite, but by far, the stand out in this category was Cardinal Gin, hailing from Kings Mountain in N.C. The story is awesome -- twin brothers and their daddy, but even better is the gin. They were providing mini gin and tonics, and the buzz around how good this stuff was, the botanicals that were clearly evident in the sip, was a favorite conversation.
It's available at multiple locations in the Charleston area, so yippee for supporting small business and my taste buds at the same time.
-- Industry talk.
This year, for me, it was even more of a learning experience. The parties were awesome, yes, but so were the panel discussions on topics ranging from cookbooks to choosing a fish. Immersion was the key here, well, that, and getting over the free sample thing. Just lining up like cattle to get a sample can be fun for a while, but why not stop and talk to the producers you like and pick their brains? Or better yet, explore the festival beyond the tasting tents?
When you do this, it is like a food homecoming, talking shop as it were, whether you are chef, producer or enthusiast. The feeling is mutual.
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Tart-tober
The last month, I have been in tart heaven. Talking about tarts, reading about tarts, writing about tarts and even sampling a few tarts.
This tart-topia actually started a few months ago, when author Holly Herrick asked The Beehive to help promote her new book, Tart Love: Sassy, Savory and Sweet.
As a well-established author with two books and countless articles and reviews under her belt, I was honored.
Since then, we've had a bubbles n' biscuits book release party (I love alliteration!), heard every joke about "tarts," been on the "Tart Train" to Charlotte to promote the book, crowned Holly the "Queen of Tarts" for Charleston Magazine, and this morning, enjoyed a tart discussion on the front of the Food Section of The Post and Courier.
It's been tart-terrific, and I've had the wonderful opportunity to spend work time reading and drooling over food, including from blogs such as Pioneer Woman and (for my vote) the best one of them all, Helene Dujardin's Tartelette. And I've had the chance to get to know Holly, who is not only a professional, but a friend.
My time in the kitchen has become more joyous, and I'm cooking more, from my first attempt at chicken and wild rice soup (made with my homemade stock from a bird I roasted) to a well-worn bean salad recipe interpreted in a new way with edamame and pork belly. It sounds fancy, but it's not -- it's just using good food, which is one of the lessons Holly has taught me.
The Tart Train rolls on to NYC in December, and then the events start afresh for Holly's next book, Food Lovers Guide to Charleston and Savannah.
Speaking of which, I better go lace my running shoes. Looks like I'm going to need them.
This tart-topia actually started a few months ago, when author Holly Herrick asked The Beehive to help promote her new book, Tart Love: Sassy, Savory and Sweet.
As a well-established author with two books and countless articles and reviews under her belt, I was honored.
Since then, we've had a bubbles n' biscuits book release party (I love alliteration!), heard every joke about "tarts," been on the "Tart Train" to Charlotte to promote the book, crowned Holly the "Queen of Tarts" for Charleston Magazine, and this morning, enjoyed a tart discussion on the front of the Food Section of The Post and Courier.
 |
| Photo by Grace Beahm/ The Post and Courier |
It's been tart-terrific, and I've had the wonderful opportunity to spend work time reading and drooling over food, including from blogs such as Pioneer Woman and (for my vote) the best one of them all, Helene Dujardin's Tartelette. And I've had the chance to get to know Holly, who is not only a professional, but a friend.
My time in the kitchen has become more joyous, and I'm cooking more, from my first attempt at chicken and wild rice soup (made with my homemade stock from a bird I roasted) to a well-worn bean salad recipe interpreted in a new way with edamame and pork belly. It sounds fancy, but it's not -- it's just using good food, which is one of the lessons Holly has taught me.
The Tart Train rolls on to NYC in December, and then the events start afresh for Holly's next book, Food Lovers Guide to Charleston and Savannah.
Speaking of which, I better go lace my running shoes. Looks like I'm going to need them.
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
The Taste of Green
I like unusual flavors. Meaning, when other kids were into the Sour Patch Kids, I discovered violet pastilles on my first trip to a gourmet food store (of course, yes, I was Miss Popular!).
Nowadays, I'm the one who orders soup at a Mexican restaurant, goes for the rose pops at the ultra-hip Las Paletas in Nashville, likes the taste of bitters in a drink and is obsessed with herbs. Lavender honey. Clove
chewing gum. And mint gelato.
Luckily, I have a constant source for that last one. Chef John Ondo of Lana daily creates fresh gelato, and I am fortunate enough to represent them through The Beehive. When I found out last week (while putting together the restaurant bi-weekly newsletter) that he had revamped the dessert menu, I started to palpitate ... had he removed my beloved mint gelato? (no) if so, am I nice enough that I can make a special request? (no) if not, can I make this myself? (no)
A quick phone call eased my nerves, and the mint gelato and I will be together again. Why is it so good? Because it tastes of minty green, not minty gum flavor. Because it's perfectly balanced, perfectly creamy, and perfectly portioned. And because it tastes of summer, of the bounty that is mint when it's growing unfettered, and it makes me smile with palate joy. Try it -- it might make you smile too.
Nowadays, I'm the one who orders soup at a Mexican restaurant, goes for the rose pops at the ultra-hip Las Paletas in Nashville, likes the taste of bitters in a drink and is obsessed with herbs. Lavender honey. Clove
chewing gum. And mint gelato.Luckily, I have a constant source for that last one. Chef John Ondo of Lana daily creates fresh gelato, and I am fortunate enough to represent them through The Beehive. When I found out last week (while putting together the restaurant bi-weekly newsletter) that he had revamped the dessert menu, I started to palpitate ... had he removed my beloved mint gelato? (no) if so, am I nice enough that I can make a special request? (no) if not, can I make this myself? (no)
A quick phone call eased my nerves, and the mint gelato and I will be together again. Why is it so good? Because it tastes of minty green, not minty gum flavor. Because it's perfectly balanced, perfectly creamy, and perfectly portioned. And because it tastes of summer, of the bounty that is mint when it's growing unfettered, and it makes me smile with palate joy. Try it -- it might make you smile too.
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