The latest issue of Feast by Lukas delivers a fresh take on the “building blocks” of easy cooking, with recipes for those little, versatile things that give a basic dish some pizzazz and a dash of summer — like Pickled Onions, Scallion and Watercress Kimchi, and Kale-Cabbage Slaw Starter.
Feast by Lukas is a vegetarian food quarterly written by Lukas Volger. now with photography by Cara Howe. Download the app and get inspired!
On one of those torrential downpour days this month I lost my main key ring—the one I keep attached to a belt loop that gets me into my apartment building, my mailbox, and my apartment. It was inconvenient, to say the least, and mystifying, because I’d never before lost keys in my life. What had I been doing right for 32 years and suddenly started doing wrong?
Then a week and a half later, after finding my (newly acquired) car’s first parking ticket tucked under the wiper blade, I was pulling into a spot in Brooklyn and graced the front corner of somebody’s sedan with the back corner of mine. That car’s owner was sitting in his car as this happened, and he obviously wasn’t pleased, but we managed to settle things with minimal conflict. I haven’t been driving in NYC for very long, and on the one hand I knew that this would have to happen eventually, but on the other—why then? Why not before? Why not later?
A half-hour later I parked the car so that I could take the subway into Manhattan for a meeting—does this sound counterintuitive and complicated, parking your car so that you can get onto the subway? That’s because it is, just like much of the car ownership game in this city—and somewhere in the time between parking my car, traveling into Manhattan, and returning back to the car so that I could proceed with the rest of my commitments for the day, I’d lost the car keys too. Lost car keys were a first, and the timing—well it worked out, but at the time it really seemed that couldn’t have happened at a more inopportune moment.
This morning I was walking to the library and I heard an ugly, off-kilter, lumbering sound coming from behind me—that of hollow metal pieces rubbing and chugging against each other in ways they’re not supposed to. It was a car dragging itself down the street. One of its back tires had been slashed and was completely deflated. I thought it sounded ominous.
That would be me. Not yet, not anytime soon, I plead. But eventually.
There isn’t an easy way to tie this into the reblog above except to say: Maybe recent frenetic energy, in the air generally or just in the air that I’m breathing, is producing a subliminal, survivalist urge to reduce things to manageable components—building blocks, of course—and to reintroduce them so that they make sense again on their own, before I stack them all together for their fully realized function.
That’s a lot to ask from a recipe for pickled onions, but there you go.