Dispatch from Peter Meehan: ‘Taking as many meals as I can at La Super Rica'

2007 Burger Bloodbath at Southfork. Photo: Jessica Coen

Rather than clog up this post with a long intro or whatevs, let's just say that it's been months since former $25 and Under critic Peter Meehan has had a regular beat in New York. We miss dude. So we dropped dude a line to say hello. Dude wrote back.

Hi Eater.

Nice to hear from you. I don't see you so much anymore. I will try to get an important job in the future so we can change that. And I'm glad to see that you've unshackled Ms. Kludt from the computers – it's probably good for internet billionaires like yourself to go down into the mines every once in a while and reminisce about the old days. It's like Tom Colicchio cooking again, accept probably easier. And I doubt that blogging makes your back hurt. Anyway, these are some of the things I've been up to:

Spending time in the Catskills testing recipes for the Momofuku book and not fishing. My fishing rod summons lightning, not trout. Two things I've learned at the stove: (1) even if ginger-scallion noodles seem like the boring vegetarian kowtow on the menu at Noodle Bar, they're a nice and easy lunch in the mountains and (2) cooking a pig's head (as for the torchon from Ssäm) might seem a little gross to the to ex-vegetarian friend whose house you're staying in, but I think any afternoon that requires a few pairs of rubber gloves to and a blowtorch is a good time.

Also, spending time in southern California. We came out for our friends' wedding in Joshua Tree, which was held at the Integratron, "an acoustically perfect tabernacle and energy machine sited on a powerful geomagnetic vortex in the magical Mojave Desert." It was, obviously, awesome. (And Pappy & Harriet's in Pioneertown is twice as cool as any bar in Manhattan and probably LA.) Then down to Los Angeles, where we caught up with friends. Laurie Mulstay, who's got a couple places here – The Bar, Bar Chole and Magnolia - and whom I've known forever, takes us out on the town when we're here. I ran into Suzanne Goin, who's nine months pregnant and about as nice as a human being can be. And I saw Ferran a couple times while he was in town and got my mitts on a copy of his new book, which is almost certainly the cookbook of the year, though I want to see that Fat Duck book before I decide that for myself. Now I'm in Santa Barbara, visiting [my girlfriend's] grandma and taking as many meals as I can at La Super Rica.

I should probably get back to trying to finish the Momofuku cookbook now, because there are a few people who are ready to bleed me like pig if I don't get that done soon. (Hi, Rica.) I'll be back in that dirty and dark city soon. Maybe we can get a drink?


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