restaurant dishes, restaurants’ chefs love, lists, Bon Appétit.
Some chefs work tirelessly to make their restaurants extraordinary, obsessing over everything from staff uniforms to the position of an herb on a plate. But just like us, they like to enjoy nice meals out on their days off, retreating to dining rooms where they’re not thinking about what’s going on behind the scenes. We asked some of our chef friends to name extraordinary dishes they’ve had at their peers’ restaurants around the country, and we got the recipes for our September issue’s RSVP column. We think we might just cook every single one before the summer’s over.
Siri sass, Apple:
Siri has always had a sense of humor, albeit a relatively anodyne one. (Q: “Talk dirty to me, Siri.” A: “Humus. Compost. Pumice. Silt. Gravel.”) But it turns out Apple’s personal assistant can get a little testy when you call her (or him) by another personal assistant’s name.
Buckminster Fuller’s Visionary Lectures, Free Online, 1975, Open Culture:
Think of the name Buckminster Fuller, and you may think of a few oddities of mid-twentieth-century design for living: the Dymaxion House, the Dymaxion Car, the geodesic dome. But these artifacts represent only a small fragment of Fuller’s life and work as a self-styled “comprehensive anticipatory design scientist.” In his decades-long project of developing and furthering his worldview — an elaborate humanitarian framework involving resource conservation, applied geometry, and neologisms like “tensegrity,” “ephemeralization,” and “omni-interaccommodative” — the man wrote over 30 books, registered 28 United States patents, and kept a diary documenting his every fifteen minutes. These achievements and others have made Fuller the subject of at least four documentaries and numerous books, articles, and papers, but now you can hear all about his thoughts, acts, experiences, and times straight from the source in the 42-hour lecture series Everything I Know, available to download at the Internet Archive. Though you’d perhaps expect it of someone whose journals stretch to 270 feet of solid paper, he could really talk.