As Brillat-Savarin once almost said, our magazines are what we eat. That is, our pages chronicle the very things our savvy staff savors all over the borough, and the reporting couldn’t be more fun.
So you’d expect us to call Brooklyn home, and we do: I’m a longtime Sloper, deputy editor Rachel Wharton hails from Prospect Heights, photo editor Michael Harlan Turkell calls BoCoCa home, designer Katie Sweetman lives in Kensington, editorial assistant Jeanne Hodesh just moved to Clinton Hill, our events goddess Rachel Graville lives in Carroll Gardens, one ad sales maven, Dawn Ellwood, is a Bay Ridge gal, while the other, Samantha Seier, lives in Park Slope, and one of our copy editors resides in Greenpoint. But then there’s our other copy editor, Doug Adrianson. He works in a treehouse in California.
As you may know, Edible Brooklyn is one of a network of over 50 magazines celebrating place-based taste. And while each is locally crafted by the most erudite, enthusiastic eaters in, say, Phoenix or the Finger Lakes, Edible editors everywhere send stories to Doug for his typo-ridding talents before placing them lovingly into layout. Almost a decade ago he helped Edible Communities’ matriarchs Tracey and Carole comb Edible Ojai for stray commas and these days he’s got one of the best perspectives anywhere on the nation’s burgeoning real food movement. Whether your next trip is to Boston or Boulder, forget the Zagat guide—if you want to find the place serving biscuits of locally milled flour and house-rendered lard ask the man who’s read every word of so many edibles, and that would be Doug.
Sometimes I wonder what Doug makes of all our stories about swaggering butchers and cooking contests (other than how to spell s’mac-down). He usually keeps the correspondence to grammar and punctuation, but after our last issue he wrote me that our piece on the Brooklyn Ale House’s hot sauce had given him quite a hankering. So we’re sending him the first ever Edible Brooklyn gift basket complete with foods he’s read all about but never tasted. We can’t figure how to put a pastrami sandwich into the package but we’ll include treats from our new favorite confectioner, Liddabit Sweets.
Speaking of, when Doug sent back his copyedited version of our story on them he didn’t just clean up our dashes and catch our Elvis error (jumpsuit, he corrected, not pantsuit) he also shared the below:
As fate would have it, for breakfast today I made myself a dish of my own invention that I call the Flat Elvis: It’s a lot like a quesadilla in that it starts with a flour tortilla and is toasted on a comal (griddle) while weighted down with a cutting board, but inside I spread a layer of peanut butter and a layer of banana slices. Yum.
Like I said, the man’s got the best seat in the house, and I don’t just mean because it’s in a treehouse.
Happy New Year!