ABD'de yemek kritiklerinin ziyaret ettikleri lokantalar ile ilgili
yazdiklari olumlu veya olumsuz degerlendirmeler okuyuculari sanildigi
kadar etkilemedigini dusunuyorum, isletmetlerin bu tur kritige ihtiyaci
var mi orasi ayri bir konu. Bu kritigi herhangi bir menfaat beklemeden
yapan insanlar yazacaklari lokantayi en az 2 kere ziyaret ederler ve kendilerini
tanitmazlar. Ayrica lokantanin diger misafirleriyle olan iliskisini de gozlemler.
Los Angeles'ta "kirmizi ilac" adinda bir Vietnam lokantasinin isletmeci
ortaklarindan biri rezervasyonu olan bir kritigi ve arkadas grubunu 45
dakika beklettikten sonra. Nasil olduysa desifre etmis ve yanina gidip
resmini cekip lokantadan atmis. Sebep olarak da yaptigi kritigin acimasiz
ve yiyecek isinde olan insanlarin ekmekleriyle oynamasini gostermis.
Restaurateur Ejects Los Angeles Times Critic
By PETE WELLS
If you are an owner of a restaurant that keeps a critic waiting for a table, you could spend the rest of the night trying to make it all better. Or you could just throw the critic out on the street.
Noah Ellis chose the second route when the Los Angeles Times critic S. Irene Virbila came into Red Medicine last night. Mr. Ellis recounted the episode on the restaurant’s Tumblr, and posted a photo of Ms. Virbila that he snapped just before expelling her. Here’s how he explained making that call:
Our purpose for posting this is so that all restaurants can have a picture of her and make a decision as to whether or not they would like to serve her. We find that some of her reviews can be unnecessarily cruel and irrational, and that they have caused hard-working people in this industry to lose their jobs — we don’t feel that they should be blind-sided by someone with no understanding of what it takes to run or work in a restaurant.
Ms. Virbila told Daily Dish, her paper’s food blog, that she and her party had been waiting 45 minutes past their reservation time when Mr. Ellis walked up, carrying a camera. Her editor, Russ Parsons, told Daily Dish that Ms. Virbila was unsettled by the encounter and by having her picture taken without her permission. Most of all, he said, “She was upset because she has worked extremely hard for more than 15 years to maintain her anonymity in the L.A. restaurant scene.”
He also told Daily Dish that the Times will continue with its plans to review Red Medicine. The blog did not state whether he intends to have the review carried out by Ms. Virbila or by another critic.
6:25 p.m. | Updated In a phone interview with Glenn Collins, Mr. Parsons said that Ms. Virbila preferred not to speak about the incident. “She would rather let her writing speak for itself,” she said.
He confirmed that the paper intends to have the restaurant reviewed, either by Ms. Virbila or by another staffer. “We may dress her up in a clown uniform,” he said with a laugh, “or enlist one of Ruth Reichl’s makeup artists.”
Talking Turkey: The Story of How the Unofficial Bird of the United States
Got Named After a Middle Eastern Country
(by Giancarlo Casale)
How did the turkey get its name? This seemingly harmless question popped into my head one morning as I realized that the holidays were once again upon us. After all, I thought, there's nothing more American than a turkey. Their meat saved the pilgrims from starvation during their first winter in New England. Out of gratitude, if you can call it that, we eat them for Thanksgiving dinner, and again at Christmas, and gobble them up in sandwiches all year long. Every fourth grader can tell you that Benjamin Franklin was particularly fond of the wild turkey, and even campaigned to make it, and not the bald eagle, the national symbol. So how did such a creature end up taking its name from a medium sized country in the Middle East? Was it just a coincidence? I wondered.
The next day I mentioned my musings to my landlord, whose wife is from Brazil. "That's funny," he said, "In Portuguese the word for turkey is 'peru.' Same bird, different country." Hmm. With my curiosity piqued, I decided to go straight to the source. That very afternoon I found myself a Turk and asked him how to say turkey in Turkish. "Turkey?" he said. "Well, we call turkeys 'hindi,' which means, you know, from India." India? This was getting weird.
I spent the next few days finding out the word for turkey in as many languages as I could think of, and the more I found out, the weirder things got. In Arabic, for instance, the word for turkey is "Ethiopian bird," while in Greek it is "gallapoula" or "French girl." The Persians,
meanwhile, call them "buchalamun" which means, appropriately enough, "chameleon." In Italian, on the other hand, the word for turkey is "tacchino" which, my Italian relatives assured me, means nothing but the bird. "But,"they added, "it reminds us of something else. In Italy we call corn, which as everybody knows comes from America, 'grano turco,' or 'Turkish grain.'"
So here we were Back to Turkey again! And as if things weren't already confusing enough, a further consultation with my Turkish informant revealed that the Turks call corn "misir" which is also their word for Egypt! By this point, things were clearly getting out of hand. But I persevered nonetheless, and just as I was about to give up hope, a pattern finally seemed to emerge from this bewildering labyrinth. In French, it turns out, the word for turkey is "dinde," meaning "from India," just like in Turkish. The words in both German and Russian had similar meanings, so I was clearly on to something. The key, I reasoned, was to find out
what turkeys are called in India, so I called up my high school friend's wife, who is from an old Bengali family, and popped her the question.
"Oh," she said, "We don't have turkeys in India. They come from America. Everybody knows that." "Yes," I insisted, "but what do you call them?" "Well, we don't have them!" she said. She wasn't being very helpful. Still, I persisted: "Look, you must have a word for them. Say you were watching an American movie translated from English and the actors were all talking
about turkeys. What would they say?" "Well...I suppose in that case they would just say the American word, 'turkey.' Like I said, we don't have them."
So there I was, at a dead end. I began to realize only too late that I had unwittingly stumbled upon a problem whose solution lay far beyond the capacity of my own limited resources. Obviously I needed serious professional assistance. So the next morning I scheduled an appointment with Prof. Sinasi Tekin of Harvard University, a world-renowned philologist and expert on Turkic languages. If anyone could help me, I figured it would be Professor Tekin.
As I walked into his office on the following Tuesday, I knew I would not be disappointed. Prof. Tekin had a wizened, grandfatherly face, a white, bushy, knowledgeable beard, and was surrounded by stack upon stack of just the sort of hefty, authoritative books which were sure to contain a solution to my vexing Turkish mystery. I introduced myself, sat down, and eagerly awaited a dose of Prof. Tekin's erudition.
"You see," he said, "In the Turkish countryside there is a kind of bird, which is called a "çulluk". It looks like a turkey but it is much smaller, and its meat is very delicious. Long before the discovery of America, English merchants had already discovered the delicious çulluk, and began exporting it back to England, where it became very popular, and was known as a 'Turkey bird' or simply a 'turkey.' Then, when the English came to America, they mistook the birds here for çulluks, and so they began calling them 'turkey" also. But other peoples weren't so easily fooled. They knew that these new birds came from America, and so they called them things like 'India birds,' 'Peruvian birds,' or 'Ethiopian birds.' You see, 'India,' 'Peru' and 'Ethiopia' were all common names for the New World in the early centuries, both because people had a hazier understanding of geography, and because it took a while for the name 'America' to catch on. "Anyway, since that time Americans have begun exporting their birds everywhere, and even in Turkey people have started eating them, and have forgotten all about their delicious çulluk. This is a shame, because çulluk meat is really much, much tastier." Prof. Tekin seemed genuinely sad as he explained all this to me. I did my best to comfort him, and tried to express my regret at hearing of the unfairly cruel fate of the delicious çulluk. Deep down, however, I was ecstatic. I finally had a solution to this holiday problem, and knew I would be able once again to enjoy the main course of my traditional Thanksgiving dinner without reservation.
Dünyanin önde gelen Türkologlarindan, ABD'deki Harvard Üniversitesi'nin Türk dili profesörlerinden Sinasi Tekin, 17 eylul 2004 gunu Istanbul'da vefat etti.
1933 yilinda Balikesir'de dünyaya gelen Prof. Dr. Sinasi Tekin, Istanbul Üniversitesi Türk Dili ve Edebiyati Bölümü'nü bitirdi ve Federal Almanya'nin Hamburg Üniversitesi'nde Prof. Annemarie von Gabain'in yaninda doktorasini tamamladiktan sonra Erzurum Atatürk Üniversitesi'nde görev aldi. Burada profesör olduktan sonra 1965 yilinda Harvard Üniversitesi'nden aldigi davetle ABD'ye yerlesen Prof. Tekin, o tarihten bu yana Harvard'in Yakin Dogu Dilleri Bölümü'nde profesörlük yapmaktaydi. Uzun yillar Türkiye'de Harvard Üniversitesi'ne bagli bir 'Osmanlica Yaz Okulu' açmak için çaba gösteren Prof. Tekin, amacina 1996 yilinda ulasmis ve Ayvalik'ta Koç Üniversitesi'nin isbirligiyle açilan 'Harvard-Koç Üniversiteleri Osmanlica Yaz Okulu'nu da yönetmis ve dersler vermisti.
Basta 'Uygurca Budist Metinleri', 'Altun Yaruk', 'Türk Dili'nde Kelimelerin ve Eklerin Hayati Üzerine Denemeler', 'Eski Türkler'de Yazi, Kágit, Kitap ve Kágit Damgalari' ve 'Osmanlica El Kitabi' olmak üzere çok sayida eser veren Prof. Dr. Sinasi Tekin, yine Harvard Üniversitesi'nin Eski Türk Edebiyati profesörlerinden olan Gönül Tekin ile evliydi.
Buyuk bir ekonomik buhran geciren Amerika'nin dunyada sokakta satilan yemeklerden ascilarin ilham almalari icin daha uygun bir zaman olamazdi. Gorulmemis rakamlarda yemek sektorundeki koklu isletmeler kapilarini kapatiyor veya kapatmak uzere. Ancak bu vahsi bir cark ve dayanma gucu olan ayakta kaliyor.
Bu seneki konferansta Amerika'nin aslinda fizyon mutfagina olan ilgisine bir kez daha tanik oldum. Etnik ve yerel yemekler ne kadar ilgilerini ceksede malzeme ve teknik gerektirdigi icin zor geliyor. Ancak bilinen ve sevilen degisik kulturlerin mutfaklarinin pratik yonlerini birbiri ile tamamlamak daha kolay ve 150 milletten insanin oldugu bir yerde daha fazla musteriye hitap ediyorsunuz.
Konferansdan resimler:
Kirece yatirilmis Kabak tatlisini sunumu
Odun komurlu doner ocagini bir bidona raf koyarak hazirlayan okulun teknik calisanlarini kutladik ve mukemmel bir doner hazirladik. Doneri hazirlarken ve pisiriken sayisiz asci ve katilimci gelip donerle resim cektirdi.
2. gun oglen yemegine 700 kisiye Kiyma kebabi hazirladik. Musa Usta yine keyifli bir sekilde hazirladigi yemekleri ile ilgi odagiydi.
eating asia sayfasindada konferans ile ilgili bilgiler var.
