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The civil ceremony took place at the Mexico City spread of our Elia’s parents. Our bewitching, bothered and bespectacled Elia, then working at L’Atelier de Joël Robuchon, contributed her own spread. She catered the wedding, preparing “a delicious menu with predominantly Arab dishes” that was her gift to the happy couple. Given what we’ve seen of her talent and her taste in funky eyewear (and footwear), we certainly wouldn’t mind having her cater our wedding.
Speaking of funky eyewear, while reading Heat, Bill Buford’s superb memoir of kitchen slavery, we came across the story of how Casa Mono, Mario Batali’s Spanish tapas restaurant, came to be created. It is a gripping story in and of itself, but was of particular interest to us because Casa Mono is where cheftestant (yes, we have crumbled and adopted the term, if only temporarily) Ilan Hall works as a line cook. Since the menu features cockscombs (yes, those floppy red bits of millinery atop roosters’ heads), tripe and fried sweetbreads, we’re not surprised that Ilan wasn’t fazed by simple snails.
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1 comment:
cockscombs? I'm gonna hurl.
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