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AP R / MAY 2011 − V OLUME 68

Contents FEATURES [APR/MAY ’11]

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LIV STRONG Ever wonder what it would be like to

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hang out and have a beer with the lovely Liv Tyler? Well, here’s your chance to find out. By Phoebe Magee


DISHING IT OUT Our favorite food bloggers reveal their surefire recipes for potluck perfection.


A VIEW TO A KILL Wisconsin’s annual whitetailed-deer hunt attracts sportsmen, nature lovers, and a surprising number of women who aren’t afraid to meet their meat. By Jenny Rose Ryan


EVERYONE KNOWS IT’S WENDY Talk-show diva Wendy Williams gets real about what it takes to make it in media. By Giulia Rozzi


EAT DRINK ONE WOMAN Artist Lee Price explores the intimate connection between women and their secret snacks. By Emily McCombs


A FOOD STAR IS BORN From rebel restaurateurs to underground artisans, these gal gourmands are proving that food is the new rock ’n’ roll. By Jean Railla



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Editor’s Letter Dear BUST


Broadcast Anika is the new Nico; Suzanne Vega channels Carson McCullers; the gals behind sustainable butchery Lindy & Grundy bring home the bacon; and more. 14 She-bonics Oprah Winfrey, Amber Tamblyn, Amy Adams, and Natalie Portman open up for their fans. By Whitney Dwire 18 Pop Quiz Martha Stewart takes the cake! By Emily Rems 19 Boy du Jour Vegging out with Russell Simmons. By Sabrina Ford 22 Hot Dates Plan an April/May holiday. By Libby Zay


Real Life Make a recipe box for all your savory secrets; sharpen up your knife skills; DIY soy milk; and more. 26 Old School Mom’s marzipan Easter lambs. By Maria Gagliano 29 Buy or DIY Add some hip-hop to your tabletop with Salt-N-Pepa shakers! By Callie Watts


Looks Blogger Rebecca Stice dresses up nice; Ai for Ai catches our eye; accessories that are good enough to eat; and more. 40 BUST Test Kitchen. Our interns glam up on the job with lip treatment, dry shampoo, and body scrub. 42 Good Stuff Tools for serving up food with attitude. By Stephanie J


Sex Files Phone sex for the palate and the privates, and more. 107 Questions for the Queen Dr. Carol Queen knows what’s on your vagina’s mind. 108 One-Handed Read Recipe for Pleasure. By Letty James

Columns 16 Pop Tart You can run, but you can’t hide—from song lyrics. By Wendy McClure 17 Museum of Femoribilia Visitors never used to enter a neighbor’s yard without a proper calling card. By Lynn Peril 24 News From a Broad If Hooters is a place for “sexual entertainment,” then why does it have highchairs? By Kara Buller 32 Eat Me Try some Thai! By Chef Rossi 34 Mother Superior When Mama’s away, the kids will play—on the Internet. By Ayun Halliday 44 Around the World in 80 Girls Let’s go to San Diego! By Megan O. Andersen 115 X Games Needle Lift? By Deb Amlen The BUST Guide 91 Music Reviews; plus, Yuka Honda and Petra Haden of If By Yes. 98 Movies In a Better World a Soul Surfer could avoid Meek’s Cutoff. 99 Books Reviews; plus, Wendy McClure gives us a taste of The Wilder Life. 97 111 116


Party Pics Our Feb/Mar Issue release party was naughty and nice! BUSTshop The Last Laugh Tammy Pierce has a [meat]ball! By Esther Pearl Watson




ISSUE 68, APR/MAY 2011


delicious dish BACK IN THE day, fine dining was for yuppies. They went to expensive restaurants, nibbled on arugula, and learned about wine, all as a conspicuous display of their Wall Street–derived wealth. Punks and other youthful rebels kept ourselves fed with ramen, hot dogs and beans, and the occasional veggie stir-fry and brown rice. We needed to establish that we were not yuppies, unconcerned with the trappings of the bourgeoisie and their gourmet tastes. But a funny thing happened on the way to the food co-op. In a complete reversal of the recent past, today it’s foodies who are the rebels, and food has become political. As we became more aware of the environmental and moral impact of our fast-food nation, with its factoryfarmed vegetables and inhumane treatment of animals, we searched for a way to opt out of a food-supply system that would truck a mealy tomato 1,000 miles to lie, limply, atop a salad. A desire to know about a food’s origins naturally lead to learning how to prepare these local vegetables and humanely raised meats. Suddenly, urbanites started growing rooftop gardens and raising backyard chickens, and many of us got involved in cooking as both a creative outlet and expression of self-sufficiency, forming communities, online and off, of like-minded eaters. In this issue, we celebrate women’s role in this new food movement, but more than that, in this issue we celebrate food, period. After all, food is more than political—it’s pleasurable. And while most women’s magazines seem to regard food as something to be battled, controlled, and denied, in this issue we want to remind you that food is, first and foremost, something to be enjoyed. To that end, we enlisted a few of our favorite food bloggers to contribute their recipes for the most amazing potluck ever. We also report on the women who have risen to the top of the alterna-food world by sidestepping the male-driven restaurant system and taking matters into their own hands—and mouths. Of course, local food is not just the stuff you get from nearby farmers—up in Wisconsin, local food can be what you find running wild in the woods. In our story, we talk to the women who happily participate in the state’s annual deer hunt, and find out how, and why, they do it. For our Food Issue, we could have chosen just about anyone for our cover—after all, everyone eats. So we chose Liv Tyler just because she’s awesome. If you don’t harbor a girl crush on her from her role in Empire Records, then maybe it was her elfishness in Lord of the Rings that got you hooked, or perhaps the actress stole your heart in Stealing Beauty. These days, Tyler is a single mom of a six-year-old and about to release two new films. And, as we discover, even with her intimidating rock ‘n’ roll pedigree, she’s about as down-to-earth as they come. Wendy Williams is so down-to-earth that she’s built an entire career on it. If you’ve ever watched her in action, you already know that whether she’s talking about her wigs, fake boobs, or past drug use, the talk-show host exudes openness and approachability and adheres to a no-bullshit policy. It was these qualities that helped her rise to fame as a radio personality who asked celebs the kinds of questions no one else dared (like confronting Whitney Houston about her rumored crack addiction). We’ve wanted to talk to her since that infamous 2003 interview, and we finally got our chance. We’d be remiss if we didn’t include something about the fact that women’s relationship to food is, well, complicated. In this issue, we showcase the art of Lee Price, whose work explores just that. On a more lighthearted note, our fashion story features the cutest springtime dresses, skirts, and more, and lets you see something you rarely see in other magazines: models eating! We’ve got all that, plus some truly inspired food-related crafts (including Salt-N-Pepa salt and pepper shakers!), fantastic real-girl style ideas, plenty more recipes, and the latest in women’s pop culture and entertainment. Lick it up!


PUBLISHERS Laurie Henzel & Debbie Stoller DIRECTOR OF ADVERTISING + MARKETING Emily Andrews, 212.675.1707 x112, SALES MANAGER: BUSTSHOP + MARKETPLACE Stephanie DiPisa, 917.442.8465, EVENT + PROMOTIONS COORDINATOR Nikki Hung, 212.675.1707 x104, BOOKKEEPER Amy Moore, EDITORIAL INTERNS: Julie Alsop, Emma Goodman, Janelle Hawthorne, Molly Labell, Katie Oldaker, Gabbi Pawelec, Mary Strope MARKETING INTERN: Kathryn Cole FOR SUBSCRIPTIONS Please email or call 866.220.6010 FOR BOOBTIQUE ORDERS Please email WWW.BUST.COM ©2011 BUST, Inc. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the permission of the publisher. The articles and advertising appearing within this publication reflect the opinions and attitudes of their respective authors and not necessarily those of the publisher or editors. Canada Post: Publications Mail Agreement #40612608 Canada returns to be sent to Bleuchip International, P.O. Box 25542, London, ON N6C 6B2


Debbie BUST Magazine is printed on recycled paper. 8 / BUST // APR/MAY


SOUNDING OFF ABOUT GETTING OFF Reading the article on Dirty Girls Ministries (“Like a Virgin,” Feb/Mar ’11) made me want to immediately go and d masturbate just to chase away the fog of sadness. Couching physical selfexploration in terms of sin, addiction, and guilt reinforces the unhealthy relationships many women already have with ith their th i bodies and teaches girls that female sexuality is dangerous, something that needs to be controlled by religion or a husband and not by themselves. Masturbation is empowering and healthy for women! Esther Riggs, Modesto, CA As a devoted BUST reader and devoted Anglican Christian, I am starting to feel on the fence about the former after a couple missteps in your articles about religion. Please don’t assume that pious activists don’t love your magazine or that Christianity and feminism are mutually exclusive. I gotta call you out on “Like a Virgin,” which generalized Christians as ultraconservatives but praised secular society at large. I’m not asking BUST to profile Christian women who do not consider extramarital sex a sin, interview female church leaders who are working to make places of worship more welcoming to the LGBT community, or publish articles about ministries that work to celebrate sexuality. All I’m asking is for a little respect. Mari Andrew, Baltimore, MD I am a loyal 25-year-old BUST reader and have been a proud masturbator since age 8. This article enraged me. I just wish that the women quoted could be freed from the damaging belief that masturbation, looking at porn, and lustful thoughts are evil. The other aspect of these allegedly porn-addicted women’s groups that disturbs me is the use of words like “sober,” “clean,” and especially Crystal Renaud’s statement that “When you stop masturbating or stop looking at porn, your body actually goes through withdrawal.” As a heroin addict (I am over a year clean, but there’s no such thing as a former drug addict), this offends and irritates me. Crystal should thank God she has never had to experience dope sickness, because she’d think twice about ever comparing the cessation of masturbating to it. I believe in God, but not one who thinks you’re sinning if you touch yourself. Gloria Gusoff, Philadelphia, PA

thank you for the article on making your own vanilla extract (“Cool Beans,” Oct/Nov ’11). About $60 in supplies made enough for Christmas presents for 22 of my friends, family, and coworkers. Not only was it a delightful homemade gift; everyone loved such an original idea. And an even bigger plus: I’ve already received two batches of baked goods from people putting it to use. Keep up the good work! Katy French, Fullerton, CA

A SEXY SUGGESTION I love everything about your magazine; it is such a positive influence, and it’s the most inclusive magazine I’ve ever read. My only issue is that the One-Handed Read is very rarely queer. The first BUST I ever bought featured girl sex in the One-Handed Read, and I was just coming out at the time; seeing myself reflected in such a popular magazine was really important for me. I’m sure there are tons of other girls who would have the same experience if more lesbian OneHanded Reads were published. Franny McCabe-Bennett, Oakville, ON, Canada

LONG LIVE THE ’ZINE Here at BUST HQ, we are huge proponents of the almighty ’zine (I mean, c’mon, BUST used to be one!) and are thrilled to see it making a comeback. Just look at all these printed beauties we’ve received lately. Check them out, then grab your own staplers and hit that Xerox machine, ladies!

CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT: Women/ Girls, Name-dropping Self-congratulating Blabfest, GirlTalk, and Nice

THE FEELING IS MUTUAL I can’t hold this in any longer. BUST, I am in love with you. (My wife is totally cool with it, so don’t trip.) I read every issue of your magazine cover to cover and am consistently enlightened, inspired, and moved by its contents. Thank you so much. BUST brings forth into the collective consciousness so many important issues and perspectives. I applaud you all for the work you do, for your commitment, creativity, humor, and insight. Jason Keppe, Berkeley, CA I just wanted to write to say how much I love the magazine. I’ve been subscribing for two years now, given subscriptions to girlfriends, and still get a little thrill each time I find it in my mailbox. I also wanted to 10 / BUST // APR/MAY

Get it off your chest! Send feedback to: Letters, BUST Magazine, 18 West 27th Street, 9th Floor, New York, NY 10001. Email: Include your name, city, state, and email address. Letters may be edited for length and clarity.

CONTRIBUTORS Loud, Hispanic, and funny, Gabriela Hasbun is a freelance photographer born and raised in San Salvador, El Salvador. She lives in San Francisco with her husband, Nick, and their cat, Emma. Hasbun photographed this issue’s fashion feature, “Roadside Attraction,” in a California surf town called Pacifica. She has a deep appreciation for scuba diving, watching Glee, and eating ice cream (Bi-Rite Creamery’s balsamic-strawberry is her current favorite). Hasbun recently shot a fat-positive story of women in the Bay Area. Check it out on her Web site,

In 1997 Jean Railla, who wrote the feature story “A Food Star Is Born,” launched the site, which helped spark the modern craft movement. In 2004 she wrote the book Get Crafty: Hip Home Ec (Broadway Books). She teaches cooking to kindergartners and writes about food and culture in New York City.

Warwick Saint, who shot BUST cover girl Liv Tyler, was born in South Africa in 1972. With a creative for a dad and a model for a mum, it was clear from an early age that Saint would be a photographer. After working as an apprentice for five years in London, he branched out on his own and moved to New York. Since then, Saint’s portraiture has been in constant demand by such celebrities as Lady Gaga, Drew Barrymore, and Cate Blanchett. He shoots for Flaunt, BlackBook, Rolling Stone, Interview, and GQ, among other magazines. He lives in Brooklyn, NY, and divides his time working in London, Paris, New York, and Los Angeles.

Born and raised in the Pacific Northwest, Siri Thorson, one of BUST’s contributing fashion and style writers, currently calls Brooklyn, NY, home while dreaming of one day moving to Australia and owning a floral shop. When not occupied by writing, blogging, working as a styling assistant, or making short films on Super8, Thorson enjoys staying up late, sleeping in, watching Seinfeld with her main squeeze (pictured), waving at cats sitting in first-story windows, and eating truckloads of avocados. She counts her Canon AE-1 and a pair of vintage Japanese denim short-alls among her most prized possessions. 12 / BUST // APR/MAY



weird sister


SPOOKY CHANTEUSE ANNIKA HENDERSON IS HITTING ALL THE RIGHT NOTES SINGER ANNIKA HENDERSON doesn’t mind if you don’t like her work. In fact, the 24-year-old Londoner, who goes by the stage name Anika, maintains that she made an album “to piss people off,” and says she “was hoping listeners would be confused” by her self-titled debut. One reason she may get her wish is that Henderson is best known in Britain as a political journalist. For her first foray into recording, she teamed up with producer Geoff Barrow from Portishead to create a fuzzy, dirge-y, yet somehow danceable collection that’s as darkly addictive as salty licorice. Henderson’s contralto, monotone vocal style has critics heralding her as the reincarnation of Nico, and she definitely shares that legend’s cool and mysterious demeanor. »


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broadcast “That was as much as I was instructed.” The result is a dub-inflected album that’s packed with covers of unlikely songs, like Bob Dylan’s “Masters of War,” Yoko Ono’s “Yang Yang,” and an almost postapocalyptic take on the 1965 Skeeter Davis love tune “End of the World.” These days, Henderson is performing in England and France, has booked upcoming shows in Belgium and Holland, and has plans to tour Stateside in the near future. So for BUST’s Food Issue, I ask what meal makes her most nostalgic for home when she’s on the road. She immediately chooses a classic dish made by her German mother: schnitzel. “Although, I don’t eat it so much anymore,” she adds. “I’m sort of a casual vegetarian.” She’s also a fan of model Sophie Dahl’s 2010 cookbook, Miss Dahl’s Voluptuous Delights, but says you’re most likely to find her dining out on sushi these days because, she admits, “I really am an extremely rubbish vegetarian.” [MOLLY SIMMS]



In commemoration of the 100th anniversary of the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire—a horrific accident in which 146 garment workers (mostly women and girls) were killed trying to escape their burning workplace—HBO is airing director Daphne Pinkerson’s gripping new documentary, Triangle: Remembering the Fire. Watch the premiere on March 21 at 9 p.m., or find dates for rebroadcasts at triangle-remembering-the-fire.


“My belief is that people are basically good and they want to see the good in themselves reflected through the shows that they watch. This is a gamble I’m taking. I believe that the banal state of television, the kind of insipid space that we’re in—that you can have as many channels as we have and not find anything that really interests you—means that to a great extent we’ve lost our way.” Oprah Winfrey on her new network OWN, in Parade “When I was younger, it was frustrating that after school I’d go directly to the set when my friends were going to Ben & Jerry’s. It trains you to be different, but I had my own crazy world as a teenager. I did a lot of drugs, I drank a lot, and I had my nipples pierced when I was 16.” Amber Tamblyn in Wonderland “I did one interview when I was pregnant, and the writer said he thought people would be surprised to know that I had sex. I didn’t know what to say. I was like, ‘Excuse me if it takes me a minute to process the fact that you think I’m asexual.’ There’s something great about the world thinking I’m so innocent. Only it’s not true.” Amy Adams in Marie Claire “There’s a difference between being in a bra and underpants as an object on a men’s-magazine cover and playing yourself—a woman with desires and needs who loves and laughs with her friends—in a bra and underpants. Did you see Tiny Furniture? Lena Dunham wrote, directed, and starred in it; she’s 23, and it is just amazing. She walks around in her underwear for the whole movie; it’s harsh. She’s the subject, she’s not the object, and it’s beautiful—that’s the kind of thing we need more of.” Natalie Portman in Vogue

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When we chat on the phone, I ask why Henderson dropped one “n” from her first name to get her nom de chanteuse. She reveals that the change, however slight, was a way of separating the two parts of her life. “Predominantly, I’m a political journalist and not a musician,” she says. “So I wanted to make that differentiation. I just wanted to explain to people that it’s one part of what I do, but it’s not everything.” Henderson also notes that the tweak helped her get over some mild stage fright. “It made it less personal,” she explains. “If people didn’t like it, that was fine, because it’s like a piece of art instead of a personal attack on me.” Recorded in only 12 days, Anika has a rough-hewn sound that’s immediate and never overproduced. In fact, Barrow made sure Henderson didn’t spend too much time dwelling on the material. “If anything, he just told me to stop practicing so much. He said, ‘Just come in and do it,’” she says of their time in the studio.

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what are words for? SONG LYRICS LEFT MY CAKE OUT IN THE RAIN APPARENTLY THERE ARE two kinds of people in this world: (1) people who think song lyrics are really meaningful and important and (2) me. Call me soulless, but that Magnetic Fields quote on your Facebook page does not move me, and if you love to

nal free-verse efforts remained—in every sense of the word—unsung. Ugh. I haven’t always been this cynical. Early in life, I dutifully learned the words to “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” in kindergarten. When I was nine and old enough

What was the point of song lyrics, anyway, I wondered—all they seemed to do was attract controversy and parental nosiness. transcribe entire tracks on your blog, I just don’t have the patience to read through all those tuneless stanzas to figure out whatever state of mind you’re trying to convey with that Mountain Goats song. And do not give me that crap about how song lyrics are “just like poetry,” because in college, I took a summer creativewriting class with a couple of smirking sorority girls who turned in poems littered with borrowed Indigo Girls lyrics. “‘Darkness has a hunger that’s insatiable,’” the oblivious professor would read aloud. “So insightful.” Meanwhile, my earnest, origi-

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to buy my own 45s (quaint but true!) my record-store bag always came with a flyer from a local radio station listing the lyrics to a recent hit. Regardless of whether I liked the song, I’d keep the sheet and follow along whenever it came on the radio. (This is why I know all the words to “The Devil Went Down to Georgia” by heart.) When I graduated to buying albums, I’d read the inner sleeves as diligently as if they were Sweet Valley High novels. If I’ve had any kind of love affair with lyrics, it definitely began and ended with those treasure troves of tiny type, filled with dirty

secrets and mysteries. On one hand, I learned valuable things thanks to “Darling Nikki,” the sex fiend from Prince’s Purple Rain (you mean girls could masturbate to magazines, too?). But I also learned that sometimes, Duran Duran lyrics made no sense, no matter how deeply I loved the band. (“The union of the snake is on the climb”?) It didn’t help that around the same time I was trying to decipher Brit-pop word salads, congressional hearings were being held to investigate “objectionable lyrics” in rock songs, and, on the home front, my parents decided that listening along to my favorite tunes was a great way to initiate small talk with me. “What’s this song about?” my mom would ask when Squeeze came on MTV. “Why are they singing ‘coffee is bad’?” “Mom, it’s ‘Black Coffee in Bed,’” I’d mutter. “That’s the name of the song.” What was the point of song lyrics, anyway, I wondered—all they seemed to do was attract controversy and parental nosiness. Why even bother with them when they couldn’t help me comprehend the soul of my secret boyfriend, Simon Le Bon? Moreover, there was always the risk of social embarrassment from singing a misheard song lyric. In the dark days before the Internet, how could you know whether a song was called “Rock the Casbah” or “Rock Your Pants Off”? Lyrics were more trouble than they were worth. So in high school, I turned to REM and Michael Stipe’s extremely mumbly vocal stylings, as well as shoegazer bands whose songs had artsy babble instead of lyrics. I could listen to a Cocteau Twins song that went something like “Peach slaw! Panko! Pompadour,” and know that I had opted out, that I was free. Of course, I’m coming to realize that you’re never really free. The older I get, the more I realize how many lyrics have snuck into my brain like stowaways. About once a year, someone forwards me one of those “Guess the Lyric” quizzes from the ’80s or ’90s and it all comes back—singles I loved, power ballads I hated, songs I didn’t even know I knew. Rock me like a hurricane and Never was a cornflake girl and I’ve been careless with a delicate man and Keep it down now, voices carry. Oh, they carry, all right. I guess that means something after all.





TODAY’S WOMAN MIGHT use a calling card when phoning her friends and family, but 150 years ago, another type of calling card helped upper-class women—and those who wanted to emulate them—reinforce their social relationships. These little pasteboard cards date back to 17th-century France, when a member of the elite, paying a call on an unexpectedly absent friend or acquaintance, would write his name on the blank back of a playing card and leave it with a servant as a record of his visit. By the mid-18th century, a Parisian could buy a pack of playing cards with his name engraved upon them, and around the same time in Italy, decorated cards with a blank space for a person to write one’s name came into vogue. »


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broadcast drove around with your footman to the houses of those you wished to notify of your presence.… At each house, the footman took a small card bearing your name and two cards of your husband’s (yours for the mistress of the house and one of his for both the master and the mistress) and gave them to the butler who would put them on a salver (a flat, silver tray) inside the front hall or, in less fancy establishments, perhaps on the mantelpiece. Visitors then had a chance to see whom the family numbered among its social circle and be suitably impressed.” A complicated system of bending the card’s corners also imparted information about who had been to visit (two bent corners meant two callers, for example). After leaving their cards, guests were ushered into the parlor for a short visit— at least in theory. A hostess, after peeping

out a window or reading a name upon a card, might simply tell her servant to inform the woman waiting on her doorstep that she was not at home—being physically at home was not the same thing as being socially at home. According to Pool, this behavior was “perfectly acceptable… though it was crass if [the perpetrator] got caught.” The scenario was repeated frequently enough that the author of a 1923 New York Times article on the “Decline and Fall of Visiting Card[s]” asked, with tongue in cheek, “When nobody pays calls or leaves cards, how is anybody to appreciate that she is being snubbed?” Indeed, by the 1920s, the formal social call was a musty relic of the past, while the calling card had begun its metamorphosis into the business card. But social snubbing is alive and well, of course. One need only check out her Facebook page to see it in action.

a. Kostyra c. Klugman

a. Martha Stewart Enterprises b. Good Things Inc. c. Martha Stewart Living Omnimedia d. Turkey Hill Road Productions

b. Ruszkowski d. Russo

2. How many siblings did Martha grow up with? a. 2 b. 3 c. 4 d. 5 3. Martha graduated from Barnard in 1963 with a double major in ______ and _______. a. chemistry and art b. art and home economics c. home economics and history d. history and architectural history

POP QUIZ MARTHA STEWART IS STILL GOING STRONG— AND THAT’S A GOOD THING! [BY EMILY REMS] IT’S BEEN ALMOST 30 years since Martha Stewart rose to fame as the ultimate authority on all things domestic, from cooking and entertaining to decorating and crafting. Think you know what it takes to turn “women’s work” into a multibilliondollar empire? Then take the quiz! 1. Martha was born on August 3, 1941, in Jersey City, NJ. What is her maiden name?

4. What was Martha’s career before she found fame as a bestselling cookbook author in 1982? b. Stockbroker a. Model c. Caterer d. All of the above 5. How many children did Martha have with her husband, Andrew Stewart, before they divorced in 1989 after 28 years of marriage? b. 2 c. 3 d. 4 a. 1 6. After 15 years of writing books and launching merchandise lines, a magazine, and multiple TV shows, Martha purchased rights to everything branded with her name in 1997 and became CEO of the new consolidated company ______.

7. In 2004, Martha was convicted of lying to investigators about a stock sale and served five months in a federal prison camp in what state? a. New York b. Florida c. Connecticut d. West Virginia 8. According to Martha, what was her nickname in prison? a. Betty Crocker b. M. Diddy c. Knitta Please d. Big Martha 9. In 2008, Martha’s daughter, Alexis, launched a TV show in which she made fun of old episodes of Martha Stewart Living. What was it called? a. Shut Up, Ma! b. Sh*t My Mom Says c. Whatever, Martha! d. You Call That Living? 10. Complete the following Martha quote: “Contrary to popular opinion, I do have_______.” b. a sex life a. a sense of humor c. less-than-perfect days d. a pair of sweatpants

Answer Key: 1. a, 2. d, 3. d, 4. d, 5. a, 6. c, 7. d, 8. b, 9. c, 10. a 18 / BUST // APR/MAY


In the United States, by the mid-19th century, engraved cards were a necessity for visiting friends and acquaintances. And thanks to the rigidly demarcated gender rules of the era, social calls were almost always performed by women. “Society exacts of woman minute attention to little formalities which could be excused in a man in this land,” explained the author of Polite Society at Home and Abroad (1891). Men could also pay calls, but they never received them from ladies, except those of ill repute. A woman who called on a man did so only if she had a business matter to discuss; to do so otherwise was, according to an 1870 etiquette book, “not only a breach of good manners but of strict propriety.” As described by author Daniel Pool in What Jane Austen Ate and Charles Dickens Knew (1993), the protocol for making formal calls was as follows: “you


super man MUSIC TYCOON RUSSELL SIMMONS’ NEW BOOK IS FOOD FOR THOUGHT TYPICALLY IN RAP lyrics, the word “green” refers to money or weed, not a lifestyle or type of juice, so isn’t a vegan yogi hip-hop mogul contrary to the culture? “Not even a little bit,” insists Russell Simmons, the 53-year-old mogul in question. “I bet rappers are more likely to be vegetarian and vegan than the rest of the population. In fact, I’m sure of it,” he says. “Poets make decisions not to follow the masses. Poets look inside.” »


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Separated at birth? Suzanne Vega today [left] and Carson McCullers circa 1940 [right]

kindred spirits SINGER/SONGWRITER SUZANNE VEGA PREPARES TO PLAY A LITERARY LEGEND WHEN YOU THINK of Suzanne Vega, her signature hits like “Luka” and the infectiously hummable “Tom’s Diner” probably come to mind. But Vega will be breaking new ground this spring when she stars Off-Broadway in Carson McCullers Talks About Love, a new musical about the late southern novelist that opens April 28 at N.Y.C.’s Rattlestick Theater. Not only is Vega playing McCullers; she also wrote the script and collaborated on the score with Duncan Sheik (who successfully made the transition from pop music to theater with the Broadway smash Spring Awakening). Vega, 51, has been fascinated with McCullers—who wrote such classics as The Heart is a Lonely Hunter (1940) and The Member of the Wedding (1946)—since she was 15. But her interest deepened in her late teens, when she came across a biography of the writer and realized she was a woman. “I saw her picture and I thought, ‘Oh, that’s Carson McCullers!’ Because I [had assumed she] was a man,” Vega tells me over coffee. “So I saw this girl’s face, with dark circles under her eyes and her hair all over the place. And for some reason, when I looked at her picture, I thought if I ever needed to play a character, I could play her.” McCullers lived in and wrote about the deep South, and Vega is a native New Yorker, so what was it about the novelist that resonated so strongly with her? “I think where she grew up, Carson felt herself to be an outsider,” says Vega, who wrote her college thesis on the author while at Barnard. “Anybody who’s an artist feels that sense of being outside. It’s just something you’re born with. I had that. I grew up in East Harlem and definitely felt like the outsider in my neighborhood.” Despite her lifelong affinity for McCullers, however, Vega also admits that immersing herself in the life of another artist can be tough for an established solo performer. “There [will be] a certain relief in getting back to my own world,” she says of the show’s eventual end. “After I’m done with this play, I think I will look forward to writing a new Suzanne Vega album.” [DAVE STEINFELD]


When it comes to the lifestyles of rappers, Simmons could certainly be considered an authority. He didn’t create hip-hop, but he arguably created the hip-hop business as we know it today. Beyond founding the legendary record label Def Jam 27 years ago, Simmons went on to brand fashion (Phat Farm clothing), stand-up comedy (Def Comedy Jam), and more with the flavor of his musical endeavors. And now in his latest book, Super Rich: A Guide to Having it All, he’s taking his signature style and turning it inward in an effort to prove that attaining health, happiness, and fulfillment trumps material wealth in the grand scheme of things. “The book is about a state of consciousness,” says Simmons, “an awakened state, a heightened awareness.” One way Simmons says he achieved this himself is by eschewing all animal products and going vegan 12 years ago, after his long-time assistant Simone Reyes convinced him of the “karmic benefits.” “Anyone who has a heightened awareness does not want to contribute to the 15 billion farm animals suffering right now,” Simmons tells me while taking shots of wheatgrass and kale juice in his N.Y.C. office. “I’m not a preacher, but I do tell the people close to me about the benefits of a vegan diet.” Not surprisingly, even before the release of his book in January, Simmons was known for successfully persuading others—particularly the women in his life—to go meatless. “They know how serious I am about it so sometimes they do it just to appease me,” says Simmons of the young models he’s often seen out and about with since his split from wife Kimora Lee Simmons in 2006. And since he doesn’t cook, grocery-shop, or keep much food in his home, Simmons says he has a secret list of vegan restaurants where he often takes dates—whether they’re vegan or not. “I’m never going to take a date to a steakhouse,” he says, “no matter who she is.” Outside the dating pool, however, Simmons admits that he’s remained flexible with the most important ladies in his life, daughters Ming, 11, and Aoki, 8. “I spend a great deal of time talking to my daughters about the suffering of farm animals, but e [veganism] will be their decision,” he says. “They have not been to a fac-e tory farm. They’re too young for me to share that with them. But I will shock them with that when I think they can handle it. Once you see the way chickens are treated, it’s very unlikely you’ll eat chicken again.” [SABRINA FORD]


hot dates


a cut above THE CRAFTY COUPLE BEHIND LINDY & GRUNDY ARE MAKING SUSTAINABLE BUTCHERY THEIR BREAD AND BUTTER “WHEN I FIRST saw her in her butcher’s outfit, with her scabbard and her chain mail,” says Amelia Posada, looking lovingly at her wife, Erika Nakamura, “I was just, like, ‘Babe, you look so hot.’” And watching Nakamura, a former sculptor, slowly and carefully break down a pig, trying not to waste an ounce of precious flesh, one can definitely see what she means. That precision, born of a respect for animals, is key to the sustainability model behind Lindy & Grundy, the whole-animal butcher shop that Nakamura, 30, and Posada, 28, recently opened in Los Angeles. All their meats are local (the lamb, from Sonoma County, travels the farthest), and most of the animals arrive at the shop whole so the pair can preserve every bit of mouthwatering, humanely raised meat. “It all comes whole except our beef, which comes cut in eight pieces,” says Nakamura of the one animal at Lindy & Grundy that’s too big for her to handle alone. “Only because we’re such little women. We’re about five feet tall each.” It’s not just their small stature that makes the couple unlikely butchers. Both are former vegetarians—Nakamura for 7 years and Posada for 14—and until last year, neither had any formal butcher training. Posada was working in event design, and Nakamura, who’d dabbled in butchering while studying at the French Culinary Institute, was toiling at some of New York’s finest high-end restaurants. But Nakamura felt unfulfilled in the kitchen and couldn’t shake her recurring meaty fantasies. So she enrolled in an apprentice program at Fleischer’s Meats, a respected organic butchery in Kingston, NY. “I was like, ‘Ooh, my wife the butcher,’” says Posada. “Little did we know we’d both be ‘my wife the butcher.’” But that’s exactly what happened. Within weeks, Posada joined the program too, and in no time, the two were setting up a stylish West Hollywood storefront, where they also pack their own sausages and sell a range of grains, dairy products, and spices. To get it all done, they sought advice from a small but growing community of similarly minded female meat mavens, who the couple says bring a more delicate hand to the art of butchering. “Things are changing. Along with us, there are several other women across the country who are doing this now and really making a mark,” says Nakamura. “We’re all kind of educating each other. It’s like a glorified knitting circle.” [KATIE ROBBINS]

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Through April 20 HAND MADE TALES Darn it! The Women’s Library in London has patched together another stellar exhibition, this time “focusing on the role domestic crafts play in many women’s experiences.” The show gets personal, using handcrafted artifacts and firsthand narratives to make connections between the storied history of domestic arts and the current crafty renaissance. Don’t be left on the fringe: visit www. for all the details. May 19 – 21 WOMEN IN JAZZ FESTIVAL A soon-to-be announced lineup of world-famous female jazz artists will be taking the Kennedy Center stage this May in Washington, D.C., for the Mary Lou Williams Women in Jazz Festival. Williams played piano with Duke Ellington at 15 and went on to release more than 100 records throughout her star-studded career. This concert in her honor—now in its 16th year—sold out in 2009 and 2010, so reserve a seat today at May 21 BUST MAGAZINE CRAFTACULAR: CRAFT AND FOOD FAIR—SPRING 2011 Shopping for handmade goods just got a lot more delicious now that we’ve added culinary treasures to our next DIY event— the BUST Magazine Craftacular: Craft and Food Fair—Spring 2011! This all-day extravaganza will feature gorgeous wares from 100 vendors representing the best in crafting and artisanal cooking. It all goes down at 82 Mercer St. in SoHo, N.Y.C., where $3 at the door will get you in from 11 a.m. to 8 p.m., visit www. for more details! [COMPILED BY LIBBY ZAY]


Nakamura [left] and Posada show off their handiwork

GIRLS ONLY: THE SECRET COMEDY OF WOMEN Straight from the pages of girlhood diaries, this show mixes sketch comedy, improvisation, audience participation, video, and song to give women something to laugh at: themselves. After running in Denver for two years and then hitting stages across the U.S. and Canada, Girls Only is being performed at the Hennepin Stages in downtown Minneapolis. See who has the last laugh at


winging it HOOTERS CAN’T HAVE THEIR CHEESECAKE AND EAT IT TOO THE CALIFORNIA DIVISION of the National Organization for Women has filed complaints with police and prosecutors in four counties, alleging that the Hooters restaurant chain has violated state and local laws against serving minors in sexually oriented establishments. NOW says the chain

part of her employment, can expect to be subjected to various sexual jokes by customers and such potential contacts as buttocks slaps.” Yet Hooters does not comply with the standards that apply to a place of sexual entertainment when it comes to kids, so CA NOW is forcing the chain to de-

CA NOW is forcing Hooters to decide: which are you, a family restaurant or a place of sexual entertainment? welcomes and accommodates children by providing children’s menus and highchairs and selling T-shirts in children’s sizes that read “Future Hooters Girl.” According to CA NOW, Hooters told the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission in the late ’90s that it was a provider of “vicarious sexual entertainment” and therefore outside the scope of standard sexual-discrimination and harassment laws. NOW also reports that “according to Hooters’ own employment materials, a ‘Hooters Girl’ is employed as a sexual entertainer and, as

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cide: which are you, a family restaurant or a place of sexual entertainment? I think we can all agree that sippy cups and orange short-shorts do not mix!

WHEN IRISH EYES AREN’T SMILING EU fines Ireland for legal laziness The European Court of Human Rights (ECHR) ruled recently that Ireland violated a woman’s human rights when she was unable to obtain an abortion locally when her pregnancy endangered her life. The ECHR further chastised Ireland for leaving murky

abortion laws on its books following a 1992 Supreme Court ruling that stated women can have abortions in Ireland if their lives are at stake. Apparently, this law was never put into practice because no political parties wanted to help enact the new legislation, and as a result, the number of Irish women traveling to Britain to have abortions continues to grow, reaching an estimated 140,000 over the past 30 years. The ECHR case dates back to 2005, when three women, known in the lawsuit as A, B, and C, filed a complaint. Their lawyers argued that being forced to travel abroad to receive abortions violated their human rights and several provisions within the European Convention on Civil Rights. The European Court ruled in favor of woman C— who said she had a rare form of cancer and feared it would come back if she reduced her chemo because of a pregnancy—and ordered Ireland to pay her the equivalent of $20,000. For the other two litigants, the courts ruled that no violations occurred. Woman A was a “former alcoholic,” unemployed, and suffering from depression, with four children already in foster homes. Woman B did not want to be a single parent.

SWAN SONG The ACLU digs into the DOD over R-A-P-E The Service Women’s Action Network (SWAN) and the Connecticut ACLU recently filed a lawsuit against the Department of Defense in response to its failure to release internal records regarding rape, sexual assault, and harassment within the U.S. military. The stated purpose of the suit is to draw attention to a matter of public concern, namely, a dramatic increase in homeless female veterans, 40 percent of whom have also been victims of sexual assault. Sexual assault occurs nearly twice as often within the military as it does in civilian life. But victims’ disability claims are often rejected by the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs due to lack of proof, and this is often where post-service mental illness, poverty, and homelessness begins. The ACLU hopes that when additional data is made accessible, advocates working on behalf of women in the military will be armed with the statistical and anecdotal support they need to get victims the help they deserve.



recipe for success




THE BEST RECIPES are the ones handed down from friends and family. Keep those tasty treasures at your fingertips with this supercute box that’s as easy as pie to make—just print, cut, fold, and glue! Download our recipe card and tab designs as well and you’ll be all set to get creative in the kitchen, with an adorable system for organizing your delicious dishes. »


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3 pieces of 8.5" x 11" white cardstock

5.125" x 7" A7 cardstock

6 pieces of 8.5" x 11" cardstock

Glue tape

INSTRUCTIONS 1. First, download the recipe-box template at and use a color printer to print onto 3 pieces of 8.5" x 11" white cardstock. Start by assembling the faux-bois part of the box. Cut along the perimeter of the two box templates. Lay the templates face up. Score all the folds by lining a ruler up to the dotted lines and running a butter knife along the ruler to make an indent where the fold will be; this will make your box edges crisp. Once you’ve finished scoring all the folds, flip the templates face down and fold each scored line toward you. Once folded, assemble the box by securing the tabs with coordinating dots to one another using glue tape.

2. Next, assemble the polka-dotted lid. Start by scoring the four folds of the lid template by lining a ruler up to the dotted lines. Then cut around the template’s perimeter, being sure to cut the four delineated slits as well; these will form the lid’s four corner tabs. Flip the template face down and fold each scored line toward you. Assemble the lid so that the four corner tabs lay inside the longer side tabs. Use glue tape to secure. 3. To fill your box, download the recipe cards and tabs at Using a color printer, print the recipe card template onto a piece of 5.125" x 7" A7 cardstock (we used light blue cardstock from Kate’s Paperie, go to for locations); the template makes two recipe cards per piece of paper. Once you’ve printed as many recipe cards as you want, cut each piece of paper in half so that each card is 5.125" x 3.5". 4. Using a color printer, print each tab card on one 8.5" x 11" piece of cardstock (we used marigold cardstock from Kate’s Paperie), there are six total. Cut out each tab card along the dotted line. Place the recipe cards and tabs in your box and start cookin’ good lookin’! [BY CALLIE WATTS AND ERIN WENGROVIUS]

FEAST OF FRIENDS Communal Table, a new cookbook series curated and illustrated by artist and foodie Caroline Hwang (and edited by our own Lisa Butterworth), celebrates the best aspect of eating: the way it brings folks together. The first paperback book ($18, www.communal-table. com) includes menus from some of the indie-food world’s coolest gals—like recipes for a ladies’ brunch by Megan Gordon of the food blog A Sweet Spoonful—and proceeds go to The Food Trust, a Philadelphia non-profit dedicated to making healthy food affordable and accessible.


mom’s marzipan easter lambs WHEN MY MOM, Rosalia, emigrated to New York in 1968 with her parents, it wasn’t easy. Her Sicilian childhood was filled with almond trees and orange groves—graffiticovered Brooklyn was no comparison. But my grandma alleviated Mom’s homesickness by teaching her how to make agnello pasquale. This traditional Easter dessert— a 3-D, cake-size lamb shaped from marzipan—originated in their hometown of Favara, where every family hoards a secret recipe. Mom spent decades perfecting this version, which makes two lambs, so I don’t dare mess with it. Blanch 2½ pounds raw almonds. Remove skins, and spread flat to dry. Finely chop almonds in a food processor; set aside. Then finely chop ½ pound raw, shelled pistachios in a food processor. Make a syrup by boiling 1½ pounds sugar, 1 tsp. vanilla, and 1 cup water over low heat, stirring constantly until a drop stretched between two fingers forms a string. Gradually stir about half the syrup into the almonds until you have a soft paste; add syrup to the pistachios until paste-like, and let cool. Knead each mixture on a cornstarch-covered surface to soften. Then line a two-piece lamb-shaped cake pan (easily found online) with plastic wrap. Split the almond paste into 4 equal logs; set 2 aside. Firmly press a log into each side of the pan. Split the pistachio paste into 2 logs, and press one log over one of the almond halves. Join the halves, then pull away the pans; smooth the seam with your fingers. Repeat process with remaining logs for second lamb. Follow the syrup procedure above to make a glaze using ¾ pound sugar and ½ cup water. Remove from heat, and immediately beat until it turns white. Brush over lambs; let harden. Then get creative: draw faces with melted chocolate, make wool using white icing, surround them with green-icing grass. [MARIA GAGLIANO]

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the facts of knife TIPS FOR GETTING COMFORTABLE WITH CUTLERY ONE OF THE most important elements of cooking is also one of the most overlooked: You could buy the freshest, tastiest ingredients in the world, but without a good, sharp knife and the know-how to use it, making a meal will feel like a chore. So get yourself the best chef’s knife you can afford—you only have to buy it once, so make it highquality—and treat it well. (You should be able to find one on sale for about $80.) The more comfortable you get with your knife, the more empowered you’ll be in the kitchen. Here are four tips for getting there. [SUZANNE GRISWOLD AND RACHAEL NARINS]


A sharp knife is a safe knife. If yours is dull, bring it to a professional to have it sharpened. The process involves regrinding the blade, so do that only every four years or so.


Once your knife is sharp, keep it that way by always, always, always using a sharpening steel (a long metal or ceramic rod with a handle). Every time you pick up your knife, draw it from heel to tip along the steel, eight times per side, alternating sides. It’s called truing (or realigning) the blade, and it prevents dulling. A sharpening steel is cheap—about $10—and yet, invaluable.


There are four things you shouldn’t cut with a chef’s knife: cheese, tomatoes, bread, and anything that isn’t food (like cans, plastic, and paper packaging—don’t laugh, we’ve seen it done). They dull your blade too quickly, so get an inexpensive serrated knife for the cheese, tomatoes, and bread; use a can opener or scissors for nonedibles.


Practice. We like to start with a bell pepper. From the top, cut off the sides, leaving the seeds attached to the stem. Discard the stem and slice the pepper into long strips, then into a small dice. Add them to a chopped salad or make a stir-fry when you’re done. Or, try a chiffonade. Stack four or five large basil or spinach leaves on top of each other. Roll up tightly, lengthwise. Slice the rolled-up leaves into very thin strips. It’s a great technique to know and looks pretty when scattered over pizza, pasta, or salads as a garnish.

Rachael Narins and Suzanne Griswold are Chicks with Knives. They teach knife skills, butchery, and pickle-making classes in Los Angeles. For more information, visit

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YOUR FOOD SHOULDN’T taste boring, and your table shouldn’t look it. Blender markers, which you can get at just about any art-supply store, are a great way to easily transfer images onto various surfaces, like wood. Combine that with the adorableness of DIY matryoshka dolls done up like Salt-N-Pepa and you have a seasonings set that’ll let you shake your thang till your dishes taste right. Start with two plain wood nesting-doll sets ($8.50 each, Open both dolls, remove the smaller dolls, and set them aside (you won’t need them for this project). »


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To create an opening that will allow you to fill the shakers with seasoning, place the two bottom halves upside down on a worktable. Use an electric drill with a 1" flat wood bit to drill a hole in the bottom center of each. To create the small holes at the top of the shakers, set the two top halves of the nesting dolls on your worktable. Use a 1⁄16" regular bit to drill three evenly spaced holes in the top of one (this will be the salt shaker) and two holes on the top of the second (this will be the pepper shaker). Apply E6000 glue along the inside edge of each nesting doll where the two halves connect, and secure both dolls shut. Let dry. Download the PDF of the Salt-N-Pepa images at Print on a piece of 8½" x 11" paper, and cut along the dotted lines. Trace the solid lines of Salt (pictured left on the previous page) with a graphite pencil; line up the bottom of the image with the bottom of the doll with three holes in the top, image face down. Use scotch tape to bind the paper to the doll, being careful to not cover any lines. Saturate the entire image with a colorless blender marker, then use the back of a spoon to slowly and firmly press the entire image against the wood; this will transfer the lines to the shaker. Remove the paper. Use acrylic paint and a small paintbrush to paint the details of the image first. Then fill in the larger areas, touching up any details as necessary. Repeat this process with Pepa on the other shaker. Fill the Salt shaker with salt, the Pepa shaker with pepper, then plug each of the bottom holes with a 7⁄8" cork (found at most craft-supply or hardware stores). [CALLIE WATTS]

worth their salt YOUR GUESTS WILL RAVE ABOUT YOUR FLAVOR FLAV WITH THESE FLY BUYS 1. GET THE SHAKES Fiending for some seasoning? DARE to keep kids off bland food ($19.95,

3. FLAVOR SAVER Whether you’re a hipster or a Frida Kahlo fan, you’ll love sprinkling a dash from this hand-carved mustache ($35, 4. GRIND FOR ALL MANKIND What better way to season the last supper than with a holy mill? ($25 each, 5. SIX FOOT, SEVEN FOOT, EIGHT FOOT, LUNCH Daylight come and I want these in my home ($36, [CALLIE WATTS]

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2. WHAT’S UP, GUAC? A handmade avocado will add some bravado to your dishes ($40,

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thaimeup PUT SOME SPRING ON YOUR PLATE WITH THESE COLORFUL DISHES AFTER A LONG winter, it’s now a time of new beginnings, warm weather, and really perky vegetables. Gone are the nights wrapped around the radiator with a pot of goulash and a loaf of bread; this season’s eating is all about light and lively, and nothing captures that better than Thai food.

cilantro, basil, bean sprouts, carrot, cucumber, and noodles, then fold the sides in a bit, and roll it up like a burrito as tight as you can. Cover with a damp paper towel and repeat. Serve with the following sauce: mix a coffee cup of hoisin with a plop of Chinese chili paste, a heaping plop of honey, and the juice of 2 limes.

SEXY SUMMER ROLLS WITH SPICY HOISIN Buy rice paper, rice vermicelli, and hoisin sauce at any Asian grocery store. Cook the noodles according to package directions, then drain and soak in cold water while you julienne a few carrots and a few peeled cucumbers. Wash and de-stem a few handfuls of bean sprouts, fresh mint, basil, and cilantro, then drain the noodles again. Now you’re ready to roll! Soak the rice paper in warm water for about 30 seconds or until soft. Lay one piece on a paper towel, top the bottom portion with some mint,

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GREEN PAPAYA SALAD Peel a couple of green papayas, cut in half, and scoop out the seeds. Julienne or grate them into strips. Throw in a few handfuls of julienned tomatoes, a handful of thinly sliced scallions, and a handful of chopped Thai basil. For the dressing, mix 2 shots of soy sauce with a good drizzle of fish sauce, a few dashes of fresh lime juice, a dash of vegetable oil, a plop of minced garlic, and a nice smidgen of sugar. Toss and top with

chopped roasted peanuts or add some dried chili flakes for spice.

BROILED THAI-LICIOUS CHICKEN SALAD Marinate a few chicken cutlets in a couple dashes of soy sauce, a plop of fresh minced garlic, a plop of fresh minced ginger, a shot of coconut milk, and a good drizzle of vegetable oil for a few hours or overnight. Season well with salt and pepper, then broil until cooked through, about 7 – 10 minutes. For the dressing, mix the juice of a lime with a plop of creamy peanut butter, a good drizzle of soy sauce, a heaping plop of brown sugar, one finely minced jalapeño, a handful of chopped cilantro, a dash of rice wine vinegar, and a good shot of vegetable oil in a food processor. Slice the chicken and serve over a bed of lettuce. Drizzle with dressing, and top with sliced red bell peppers, cabbage, and scallions.


spill the beans


MAKE YOUR MOUTH HAPPY WITH DIY SOY MILK I GREW UP in a Chinese/Vietnamese household where homemade soy milk was a refrigerator staple. As an adult, I just couldn’t acclimate to the metallic taste of store-bought versions, so now I make my own instead. And why wouldn’t I? Jammed with nutrients, loads of protein, and zero cholesterol, soy milk’s the stuff long lives are made of. Not to mention it’s delicious—creamy, nutty, with a hint of sweetness—and cheap. If you buy dried organic soybeans in bulk at your local grocery store, 16 oz. will set you back $1.25 or so and will produce almost 30 cups of milk! Your lattes and cereals will forever thank you. All it takes is a few whirls in the blender, some cheesecloth, and you’re good to go. Rinse ½ cup dried organic yellow soybeans thoroughly and drain. Soak in cold water overnight in a large bowl. Drain again. Pick through beans and remove the ones that have not expanded and softened. Put soybeans and 2½ cups of water in a blender. Purée until smooth and milky. Transfer to a large stockpot and add 3 cups of water. Bring to a boil over high heat, stirring constantly and skimming off foam as necessary. Turn heat to low and let simmer, stirring occasionally, for 25 minutes. Strain milk through a fine-mesh sieve lined with cheesecloth into a bowl, pressing on soybeans to squeeze as much liquid out as possible. Stir in 1⁄8 tsp. salt and 1⁄8 cup sugar, adding more to taste. Serve piping hot or ice cold. This recipe yields about 5 cups and can be stored covered in the fridge for up to 3 days. [GIAO TRAC, WWW.KISSMYSPATULA.COM]

SERIOUS EATS Food blogs abound, but Addie Broyles’ blog,, offers something you can really sink your teeth into. Broyles writes about the places in pop culture where women and edibles meet: the sexism in diet-soda marketing, for example, and the gender-pandering profile of a female chef in The New Yorker.

fair trade GET A MESS OF MUNCHIES BY THROWING A FOOD-SWAP PARTY FOOD SWAPS—GATHERINGS where people bring homemade edibles to trade with one another—are an awesome way to show off your culinary skills and end up with a pantry’s worth of tasty items at the same time. Unlike cookie exchanges, where everyone brings a batch for each guest, food swaps involve scoping out all the options first, then bartering for the items you want most, which makes for a very lively atmosphere! Here’s how to host your own. 1. SHARE THE WORK. Find a friend who will help with planning and hosting duties. 2. ESTABLISH GUIDELINES. Keep things simple by requiring that swap items be made by guests (not the farmers’-market jam mistress or a local baker). 3. PICK A VENUE. Host the party at your house, a local business, or anywhere with a private space and a big table (or ample counter space) for displaying all the goods. Make the party BYOB, and tell guests to bring potluck-style snacks. 4. GET COOKING! Make (or gather) stuff that’s edible and swappable, e.g., small loaves of bread, jars of preserves, eggs from your backyard chickens, homegrown citrus, bags of muffins, homemade candy, etc. Guests can bring as many items as they want; they’ll be trading one for one. 5. PROVIDE A SWAP-ITEM SHEET for each guest to fill out and put by their goods. Here’s what to include on it: What (the swap item), Who (guest’s name), Notes (anything they want to say about their item), and Offers listed by Name/Item (to be filled in by the guests who want to trade with them and what they’ll offer in exchange). Set a time during the party when the trading will take place; swappers will use the offers listed on their sheets to make trades with other attendees. This gives guests time to arrive, assess the table, and write their name down on others’ sheets before being thrown into the pit of chatty swappers all bartering for delicious goods. [KATE PAYNE, WWW.HIPGIRLSHOME.COM]

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chore time, too. If only I could force them to take up tuba! Or soccer, pottery, bike repair—something that doesn’t require a keyboard and a password. But really, what’s the harm? Children learn through play, right? Why, yes! How comfy it was to roll myself in that banner

Unfortunately, the minute Inky comes home from school, I cease to be sole proprietor of my computer. back when play meant dishing up elaborate 10-course meals of plastic pizza wedges on doll-size plates or rooting around in the dress-up bin for bridal veils in which to marry one’s brother. So creative! So photogenic! It seems safe to assume that whoever developed that theory was referring to wooden blocks, not virtual zombies, though I do concede to a feeling of accomplishment when slaughtering the latter. The thing is, sometimes when I’m playing Word Bubbles, I get the sense that I’m not so much increasing my verbal dexterity as

remember her saying. “If this is how she chooses to spend her time, then fine.” Little could she have foreseen that her grandchildren would come of age in a world where networks devoted exclusively to cartoons would broadcast 24 hours a day. We don’t have cable, but it hardly matters now that our wireless connection has been upgraded to a speed compatible with streaming. It’s convenient, all right, but surely even my little cybermonkeys will one day judge such velocity incompatible with the fleeting pleasures of childhood.


I’VE BEEN WASTING a lot of time playing this online vocabulary game, the verbal equivalent of any sugary cereal purporting to be good for you. Like cocktails and TV, it’s a treat best left until the day’s work is done. Unfortunately, the minute Inky comes home from school, I cease to be sole proprietor of my computer. “Are you doing homework?” I ask foolishly, watching the girl abscond with my laptop. “I’m checking my assignments,” she replies, her voice muffled by a closed door. Ah, yes, the breadcrumbs posted by teachers to the school’s Web site, presumably as a service to those of us whose offspring are less than scrupulous when it comes to jotting down the daily workload. In reality, these postings are a gateway to crossword puzzles, YouTube, Facebook, and This American Life podcasts. I know there are those who view the smorgasbord of pornography as the Internet’s most singular hazard, but for me, and the average adult chorus member of The Music Man, the gravest threat to my children is frittering. Frittering away their noontime, suppertime,

turning into that guy from Flowers for Algernon. So when I realize that my 10-yearold son has just spent two hours piloting a jelly car about a 12-inch screen, I don’t think, Wow, he really knows his way around the keyboard! I freak and demand that the computer be shut off mid-game. Them’s my version of parental controls, Bub. I’m not opposed to vegetation, per se. There are days when I’m one of its leading practitioners. Does blowing off class to wallow in a week’s worth of gossip-blog posts give you a naughty thrill? Guess what. It’s even better when you’re supposed to be hauling 60 pounds of dirty clothes to the laundry or cooking dinner for a family of four. Do I feel guilty? Yes, but I’d feel a lot guiltier if I were wasting my childhood. Fortunately, there’s no chance of that. As a member of Generation X, I may be a slacker, but I wasn’t subjected to online temptation until 1995, the year I moved to New York City, got married, and acquired my first modem. When I was growing up, the great black hole was cartoons. I watched them every day, a fact I try to remember when my good friend Bitchmother is threatening to go all granola on the young. One of the most affirming moments of my early years occurred during a commercial break, when I accidentally overheard my mom on the phone, refusing to apologize for letting me spend an entire Saturday morning in front of the tube. “She works hard at school all week and has earned the right to relax,” I

Looks Fa s h i o n Nat i o n


BLOGGER (THECLOTHES.BLOGSPOT.COM) AND FREELANCE WRITER FORT MONROE, VA Tell us about this outfit. The butterfly dress is from I got it on sale for $8. The twotone cardigan was created from two secondhand sweaters by Neneee [on Etsy]. It cost $35. The belt is second-hand; I found it at a thrift store in Pennsylvania for about $2. The bag is by Rebecca Minkoff. It’s worth $500, but I got it as a gift for doing a guest post on her blog. The shoes are Seychelles; they cost about $100. The tights are Cynthia Rowley; I bought them on for around $28. What inspires you? I’m inspired by reading other people’s blogs and seeing how they are dressed on a given day. I really like Erin of, and Hannah of How would you describe your look? I’d say my style is “quirky ladylike.” I like to wear a head-to-toe outfit where the pieces make sense together, but I don’t try to match everything. I throw in interesting details via color or accessories. Did you have a style-defining moment? When I was a sophomore in college, I studied in Sapporo, Japan. Two of the girls I was studying with had very developed senses of style; they inspired me to be more proactive about how I dressed. And the Japanese impressed me. People there are very concerned with presenting a good public face, and they make an effort with their appearance every day. I also found that I got stared at a lot in Sapporo; I was going to get stared at no matter what, so I figured I might as well wear what I wanted! [laughs] Care to share your fashion philosophy? Clothes can be like an armor that expresses who you are to the world; if they make you feel good, you can really feel safe and secure in them. Then it doesn’t matter what other people think. [TRICIA ROYAL]


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Elizabeth (left) and Carol see Ai to Ai

double trouble THE AI SISTERS MAKE OUTTA-SIGHT THREADS SISTERS CAROL AND Elizabeth Ai have always had a serious relationship with their Singers. “We grew up making our own clothes. There was always a sewing machine at home. We even sewed our prom dresses,” recalls Elizabeth, 27. “And winter-ball gowns!” adds Carol, 31. After spending their formative years tagging along with their mother and grandmother to fabric stores, the L.A.-based seamsters knew they wanted to create their own line and launched Ai for Ai in 2009. For their new spring collection, dubbed Astral Traveler, the duo found inspiration in the otherworldly light sculptures of female artist Owen Schmit. The breezy separates and dresses—punched up with smart, structural draping and playful cutouts— meld the sisters’ signature California cool with spacey, geometric appliqués and stellar never-used vintage fabrics. And though Carol and Elizabeth may have their heads in the stars, they haven’t lost touch with their earthly muses. “We hope to be able to collaborate with an awesome, creative female artist every season, whether it’s a painter, a musician, or a writer,” says Elizabeth. “We’re not making clothes that are really tight or fussy; we’re not making suits. You can get down on your hands and knees if you need to and make something.” [SIRI THORSON]

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kawaii overload JAPANESE TREND OF TINY, HANDMADE FOOD JEWELRY GOES GLOBAL [Clockwise from top] For Ladies Who Brunch Nestled on porcelain plates and dripping with jam, these earrings are no awful waffle. ($50, Going H.A.M. There’s no better ring to wear when you’re Hungry As a Motherfucker ($16, We’ve Got the Treat These delicate desserts will have everyone screaming, “Let them wear cake!” ($22, Snack Attack This food chain looks so delish, you may try to gnaw your hand off (€45, Nacho Average Ring Craving salty has never looked so sweet ($10, [CALLIE WATTS]





I’M KIND OF a sucker for skin care products, so I’m constantly trying new moisturizers, serums, scrubs, and cleansers in the hope that I’ll find something that actually delivers. Every once in awhile, I do. This Refine Clay Renewal Treatment from Blissoma ($22.25, is my new favorite thing. I’ve got seriously sensitive skin that’s prone to gnarly breakouts, and this little tub o’ goodness not only makes my face super soft, but it also has a calming affect, shortening the life of terrible zits and evening out my skin tone. It’s handmade with all-natural ingredients— including exfoliating willowbark—and it’s got a fresh, clean scent that makes using it feel more worthy of a pampering spa than a night spent in jammies with my Netflix instant queue. [LISA BUTTERWORTH]

crafty couture

MAKE YOUR OWN CUSTOM CLOTHES WITH THESE DIY BOOKS IF YOU’RE NOT a sewing whiz, or even if you are, following any sort of pattern can be a nearly impossible task. Londoner Rosie Martin knows this all too well. “I bought a sewing pattern back in 2007,” the 27-year-old says, “and opened it up to discover a practically impermeable wall of coded language and strange indecipherable diagrams. I was...flummoxed.” So she created DIYCouture, a collection of sewing booklets that demystify the process. Featuring simple instructions accompanied by full-color photographs and illustrations, each soft-cover book (which resembles a magazine) helps you create one of Martin’s awesome designs, including a capelet, a tulip skirt, and a hooded poncho. “I really wanted to show people just how easy it is to put good-looking clothes together,” she says of her customizable collection. But Martin’s books are so much more than just patterns. They also offer a fresh perspective on fashion and clothing. “I hope the DIYCouture books do a little bit to give clothing a value other than its price tag,” she says. “I hope that when people make their own garment, they will be fond of it and proud of it.” Go to to start your collection (£9 per book, three for £22.50). [CANDICE OKADA]

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NAUGHTY BY NATURE These earth-friendly, safari-inspired hues are not tested on animals and will have you looking wicked beyond a shadow of a doubt. (Pictured from top: Venom, Liger, Jungle Fever; $8 each,


Make sure you measure up with this handy kitchen conversion chart that’s as pretty as it is practical ($30,

This spring, be the first in flight! All you’ll need for your art to take off is a mighty wind ($11.95,


WINNIE THE WHO Sweet as a honeypot, these handmade Anonymous Cool Bear leggings are the bee’s knees (€40,

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Turn water into wine with this home brew kit. All you need to make 12 bottles of vino is included; just add agua. Follow along with the instructional DVD, and in slightly less than a month you’ll have a grape escape ($149.99,

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[Clockwise from top]: Purple

Perfection Dress, Cocorosa Dress, Sparkle Bow Ring

THOSE FIRST FEW rays of sunshine mean it’s time to whip your warm-weather wardrobe into shape, whether your wallet’s ready or not. But thanks to a bevy of women-owned Web stores that are as affordable as they are fabulous, looking fresh on a budget has never been easier. Odds are good that you’ve come across one of your favorite style bloggers decked out in a retro-chic frock from ModCloth (, which specializes in vintage-inspired clothing and accessories. In fact, pieces like the chic, scoop-neck Cocorosa Dress ($69.99) and the floral-print Orchid Grey Dress ($53.99), featuring a sweetheart neckline and flirty bubblehem skirt, were named for some of the company’s favorite Internet clotheshorses. While ModCloth may be the best-known spot for cute and affordable online clothes, it’s not the only one. Like Anthropologie without the sticker shock, Ruche ( carries a wide range of delightfully feminine finds in all shapes and sizes. But the store is especially dedicated to tracking down pieces that are fuller in figure, not frump. Its Curvy Plus category is stocked with covetable steals like the demurely pleated Purple Perfection Dress ($39.99) and sleek Monday Morning Coffee Trousers ($32.99), all available in sizes 1X to 3X. Wanna spruce up your décor as well as your closet? You can do both at Spotted Moth ( This online boutique is stocked with affordable finds that run the gamut from basic (Pretty Pencil Skirt, $19.99) to adorably ostentatious (Sparkle Bow Ring, $24.99.) And as if the array of sweet dresses, separates, and accessories wasn’t tempting enough, the site’s Home department is chock-full of goods like candles housed in handcrafted porcelain eggs ($22.99), and original prints including Rachael Speirs’ rustic ink drawings ($20.99). [sIRI THORSON]

test kitchen THEIR PRODUCTS, OUR INTERNS MOLLY I loved this! This treatment brought a lot of relief to my superchapped lips. It had a nice smell and felt really lightweight. Plus, the tint was lovely and subtle.

A nice, light exfoliant with a wonderfully sweet and earthy scent, this product’s pure, organic ingredients made me feel clean and gave me a gentle scrub that refreshed and moisturized my skin.

Runny with a slightly medicinal scent (perhaps it’s the “wattle seed”), this scrub left my skin feeling quite soft. I even tried it as an exfoliating face wash and have no complaints.

The pepper-and-cinnamon scent was a little too much for me to handle, and my crazy-sensitive Casper skin broke out in itchy hives after using this scrub. But the company’s use of eco-friendly and organic ingredients is admirable!

This dry shampoo, meant for days when you’re pressed for time and can’t swing a scrub, had a really lovely smell and made my hair supershiny. But it also caked to my scalp as it was eliminating the excess oil in my hair.

This powder smelled nicely of cardamom (a welcome change from the typical powdery, floral scent we ladies are supposed to love) and made my hair big and fluffy, just like I like. It was also good for counteracting product buildup!

This vegan, organic product was a lifesaver on a particularly busy day! It worked the same as the tried-and-true baby powder remedy, though, so I’d recommend splurging for it only if you’re looking for something a bit more special.

skinnyskinny Organic Grapefruit & Cardamom Dry Shampoo, $32,

Fresh Sugar Plum Tinted Lip Treatment SPF 15, $22.50,

MA RY Though I appreciated the lush feel of this lip treatment, I couldn’t get over the brownishpurple color, which was less “Sugar Plum” and more “Black Eye.” But maybe it just looked terrible on me.

Australian Organics Moisture Refresh Exfoliating Body Scrub, $9.99,

EMMA This gave my lips wonderful TLC after the cold winter weather. Its smooth, creamy texture helped moisturize, and the sweet blackcurrant scent was delightful. The color was a bit dark for my taste, but I remedied that by applying it sparingly.

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AROUND THE WORLD IN 80 GIRLS [#49] San Diego’s Balboa Park is badass

Take time to reflect at the Lily Pond

Sea lions livin’ the life


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WHILE SAN DIEGO may bring to mind postcard images of sun-bleached surfers, sailors in crisp white uniforms, and Will Ferrell’s mustachioed anchorman Ron Burgundy, this sprawling Southern California city has much more to offer than tan lines, military bases, and a rad zoo. What you may not know is that it’s got a small-town vibe and is rich with historical sites, lush parks, swank eateries, and local dive bars, as well as those breathtaking beaches that are welcoming year-round. Kick off your stay with San Diego’s biggest and best breakfast at the bustling Hash House a Go Go (3628 5th Ave.). You can’t go wrong with their fried-chicken Benedict with maple reduction, bacon mashed potatoes, and biscuits skewered on five-inch rosemary sprigs. Walk off the calories with a stroll to the springy Spruce Street Suspension Bridge (Spruce St. and First Ave.), where you can catch a glimpse of the downtown skyline peeking above the treetops from the ravine below. Then, for a heavy dose of beauty, art, and culture, head into the heart and soul of San Diego: Balboa Park (1549 El Prado), a huge, quiet, eucalyptus-lined area that houses museums, parks, art installations, gardens, and the world-famous zoo. Check out crazy plants at the Botanical Building, and

watch giant koi glide through the reflective Lily Pond. Both are picture-perfect and totally free. Once you’ve gotten your fill of nature, get your shop on in the up-and-coming North Park neighborhood. Rubber Rose (3812 Ray St.) is an adult toy- and bookstore owned and operated by ladies who love lovin’ and who make X-rated shopping fun. Up the street at Pigment (3827 30th St.), an eco-friendly home-décor and gift boutique, enchanting globe terrariums hang from the ceiling, and a lush “living wall” grows above the counter, making this store feel like a secret garden. Across the street, grab a cup of premium coffee at Caffé Calabria (3933 30th St.), where the beans are freshly roasted. For extremely wearable vintage threads, don’t miss the decidedly stylish Frock You (4121 Park Blvd.). Now that you’ve worked up an appetite, grab dinner in neighboring South Park at the hipster-y Hamilton’s Tavern (1521 30th St.), a lively pub that pleases all palates with menu items such as handground sausage, vegan chili, and vegetarian Baja dogs. Continue your good times at the Turf Supper Club (1116 25th St.), a low-lit dive bar packed with vinyl booths, a killer jukebox, and racehorsethemed décor, where salty bartenders have been serving up cheap, classic drinks like Side Cars and


Sweet treats at Extraordinary Desserts

Vintage goods at Architectural Salvage

Terrarium takeover at Pigment

Hangin’ out at Hamilton’s Tavern Let the San Diego skyline float your boat

Mouthwatering margaritas at El Vitral

Old-Fashioneds since 1950. After a good night’s sleep, start your day in Old Town, the birthplace of San Diego. Pick up some fresh-made flour tortillas at Casa Guadalajara (4105 Taylor St.), and drift through the street vendors and oldtimey shops. Test your nerves in the haunted Whaley House (2476 San Diego Ave.), a historic home built in 1857 and decorated just as it would’ve been in the 19th century. It doubles as a museum full of So Cal history and has been called the single most haunted house in the United States. Legend says that among the other specter sightings, visitors often see the “ghost dog” that haunts the grounds. For spirits of a different kind, head to the impeccably designed bar Starlite (3175 India St.), a quick drive away in the nearby neighborhood of Mission Hills. A hexagonal wooden entryway leads to a sunken bar; the stacked rock walls that surround it are adorned with staghorn ferns. The environment alone will get you in the door; the tasty drinks will keep you there. Walk off your daytime buzz in the nearby Gaslamp Quarter downtown. Once a red-light district lined with saloons,

Coffee break at Caffé Calabria

brothels, and casinos frequented by Wyatt Earp, the century-old brick buildings now host trendy restaurants, clubs, bars, and specialty shops. Refuel with a diesel margarita at the colorful tequila lounge in Mexican restaurant El Vitral (815 J St.). For some seaside sightseeing, hop on the Old Town Trolley ( to Coronado Island, a laid-back peninsular beach community. Soak in the awesome view of the San Diego skyline from across the bay, then disembark at the iconic Hotel Del Coronado (1500 Orange Ave.), which you may recognize from the classic 1959 Marilyn Monroe flick Some Like It Hot. Grab a snack at one of the poolside restaurants, or take your towel and claim a spot on this uncrowded beach known for its great bodysurfing waves. Reserve a water taxi (619-235-8294) from the hotel to take you back downtown, for a seal’s-eye view of the bay for only $7. Or, for beachfront entertainment sans sand in your hair, get arty at the Museum of Contemporary Art San Diego (700 Prospect St.) in posh La Jolla. Peek over the nearby cliff to see sea lions basking in the sun. This cool space has an enlightening collection with a killer ocean

view. Then say buon giorno to Little Italy for delectable eats in a good-natured neighborhood. Don’t miss dinner at family-owned and -operated Filippi’s Pizza Grotto (1747 India St.), where patrons happily wait in the everpresent line to dine on mouthwatering pizza and classic rustic pastas under a ceiling of Chianti bottles. Then follow the siren-scent of buttercream to Extraordinary Desserts (1430 Union St.) or grab a cannoli from Café Zucchero (1731 India St.). As you munch your treats, walk over to the treasure chest that is Architectural Salvage (2401 Kettner Blvd.) to sift through the store’s collections of vintage crystal doorknobs, weathered window frames, and other distinctive remnants. End your night down the street by watching a band rock the Casbah (2501 Kettner Blvd.) at this legendary hole-in-the-wall venue. With an average annual temperature of 65 degrees and so much to offer in the way of food, culture, entertainment, and natural beauty, San Diego could come off as boastful, yet this seaside town remains down-toearth about its impressive offerings. In the words of this So Cal city’s favorite son, Ron Burgundy, way to “stay classy San Diego.”

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A fresh-faced young model turned cinema ingénue, Liv Tyler first found success when she was just a teen. Now 33 and reinventing herself as a single mom, this daughter of rock royalty reveals that she’s ready to move beyond being a damsel in distress



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the “Being mom of a kindergartner is not for pussies.

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HICKEN-LIVER TOAST,” Liv Tyler says, placing our order at The Spotted Pig, one of her favorite N.Y.C. pubs, before turning to me to ask, “Would you like a beer?” She then politely requests two half-pints and pronounces, “It’s beer o’clock,” into my recorder, testing its acuity. This is not a conversation I ever thought I would be having. First, I don’t eat things like chicken liver, on toast or otherwise. And second, this is Liv Tyler. When I was a kid, my friend and I watched Empire Records approximately 342,800 times. Tyler’s performance in that 1995 coming-of-age film about employees at an indie-music store introduced me to her unique brand of brainy beauty at a time when I really needed to see it. And now she is introducing me to chicken-liver toast. A working model at 13 and an actress by 14, Tyler earned critical acclaim while still a teenager in the 1990s for her work in small, thoughtful movies like 1995’s Heavy and 1996’s Stealing Beauty (the film that made her a star). She then garnered international fame, and the devotion of nerds everywhere, for her role as the half-Elven Arwen in the blockbuster Lord of the Rings trilogy from 2001 through 2003, before becoming a scream queen in the 2008 horror thriller The Strangers. As a young star, Tyler predictably became tabloid fodder, but not for the usual reasons like disastrous fashion choices or hard partying. In fact, it was revelations about her paternity that first landed Tyler on their front pages. Raised to believe rock star Todd Rundgren was her father (she still considers him a parental figure), she later found out from her mother—the model, musician, and free spirit Bebe Buell—that her biological father was actually Aerosmith frontman Steven Tyler. Despite a life spent almost entirely in the spotlight, however, part of Tyler’s success as an actress surely comes from the fact that she radiates a genuine, down-to-earth sweetness. When she arrived for our interview wearing black leggings, a floral dress, a comfy pullover sweater, and her favorite (“stinky and old”) black Converse sneakers, Tyler familiarly greeted the restaurant’s staff, poured some water for me, and solicitously asked what I’d like to eat. As we talk, she tries to ask just as much about me as I ask about her, and when I tell her something, she really listens. It’s a character trait I soon discover

isn’t just a natural part of her personality but something she actively cultivates. “When you’re in a scene with another person, some actors will just be thinking about what they are going to say, and they’re not really listening to you,” she explains. “And I think that’s similar to being out in the world. Some people aren’t listening to you. But I always try to really listen to what the other person is saying, and watch them, and try to be as connected to them as I can.” As we get deeper into conversation, the whole sweetness thing gives way to a more complicated story. Tyler grew up on horror movies, feels conflicted about playing the love interest or the ideal woman, and is interested in more physically demanding roles. At 33, she’s already had a successful career, a high-profile marriage (to British rocker Royston Langdon, with whom she has one child), a divorce, and a hard couple of years since the split. Now she’s ready to rebuild something new for herself and her son. So while everyone knows she’s sweet, one of the many things I learned about Tyler, as you’ll see below, is that she’s also tough. And brave. And I’m not just referring to her food choices—although it turns out I’m not the first person she’s turned on to chicken-liver toast (which, by the way, is delicious.) Are you hungry? Yes! I didn’t get to eat breakfast. I forget sometimes, rushing out the door trying to get Milo together for school. Milo is your son. How old is he? He’s six. Being the mom of a kindergartner is not for pussies. I feel I was naturally really good at the baby part. Being pregnant, I felt really strong and comfortable and good at it and proud of myself. When he was an infant, caring for him and loving him came really naturally to me—feeding and breastfeeding and cooking and all the things that came along with it. But this part is a whole other kind of universe. Things are so different now. If Mom was having a hard day 20 years ago, she could have a cocktail and a cigarette in the kitchen while she was cooking dinner, and dinner was a can of cream of chicken soup over noodles in the oven called a casserole. Now you’re working all day and then cooking up an organic, vegan, three-course meal. And there’s no cigarettes or cocktails at all! There’s a lot of pressure as a woman in general, to juggle everything, to wear all hats and be all roles—to be perfect or to look perfect and then to be the perfect mom. This year we moved back to New York from L.A., so it’s new school, new house, and a lot of adjusting. I grew up in Maine and New York, but I really wanted to know what it was like in L.A., to have a house and a yard. And I have to say that part of it was really nice. But I didn’t like not seeing people. I really like that about New York—just bumping into people, knowing the guy at the deli who knows how you like your coffee. It’s nice

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I would like to take this chance to say I’ve seen Empire Records about a million times. I loved your character, Corey, and her fuzzy sweater… Which was, like, up my nose, in my eyes, and on my tongue the whole time! I fucking hate mohair. And what’s really funny is, they changed my whole outfit for that movie. The night before we started shooting, the studio decided they wanted me in this sexy schoolgirl outfit. So at midnight we were doing fittings. I remember when I ended up in that plaid skirt and mohair sweater, I was like, You gotta be kidding me. I ended up wearing my own boots. I thought, At least I can wear my boots, and I’ll be fine. How did you know you wanted to be an actress? I was 13, and my mom and I moved from Maine to New York, and I started modeling because [supermodel] Paulina Porizkova and [the Cars frontman] Rick Ocasek were my mom’s best friends who lived around the corner. Paulina took all these pictures of me as kind of an experiment, but through that, I started modeling, and really quickly, I was asked to go on a couple of auditions. I think my mom always had this plan in her mind—she used to tell me often that she thought I would be an actor. I always wanted to be a singer because she was a singer, and my dad, and Todd—I just loved music so much. But I went on a couple of auditions when I was 14, and I got my first part immediately, and then it sort of never stopped. What have your most recent moviemaking experiences been like? The last two movies I did were these tiny little independent movies. One was called Super [out in April] and one was called The Ledge, and they were both filmed in Louisiana. And both of those times, I stayed in little shitty motels on the side of the highway and kind of loved it. The one I did in Baton Rouge, The Ledge, was really nice for me because my godmother, who’s one of my greatest friends in my life, lives in New Orleans. On my days off, I would get into my car with a map and the radio and drive to New Orleans. I can remember on that drive just feeling so…free and so alive, enjoying the simplest pleasure of the warm southern sun and the wind on my face and listening to “Spirit in the Sky.” Super is something of an unexpected turn for you; it’s a very violent story about a loser guy who tries to rescue you from the clutches of a drug dealer by turning into a DIY superhero. It felt familiar because I grew up obsessed with horror movies.

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My mom and I would watch Night of the Living Dead and Tales from the Crypt and Creepshow, and I was just obsessed—until I saw Texas Chainsaw Massacre. It says in the beginning that it is based on a true story, and then I was done. Not that Super is a horror movie. But that style, that campy violence—there’s a humor to it. Yes, there’s obviously gratuitous violence. But there’s something funny to it that I just grew up being used to in some way. Your character in Super is a drug addict. I was playing someone who was out of it all the time. It was really bizarre—I just had to let go. I actually cried on the first day of work because we shot almost half of my whole part in one day, one take each, on video. I didn’t even really get to think. I hadn’t worked in a year, and it was fun, but it was a tricky part to play. I remember being a bit frustrated on that first day—the feminist in me. My character is powerful because she is a catalyst in the story, but she’s also this ideal of a woman. Besides hearing about her being a drug addict or her past, you don’t see the reality of who she is. She is the damsel in distress—so much of her is defined by how the main character [played by Rainn Wilson] sees her. Playing that was quite tricky because I’m such a realist. Acting for me is not acting in a very theatrical way; it’s a real experience of finding the truth in something and being it. It was such a strange and delicate balance to play the ideal of a woman instead of a real woman. Are you interested in exploring more non–damsel in distress parts? I would love to do something very physical just for the sheer fun and strength of it. The Strangers was a movie I loved making. Even though it was about my being victimized and hurt, there was such a strength to my character, fighting for her survival. The things that happened to me every day! I was covered in sores and blisters and cuts and bruises. Bruises that were so weird-looking, they would cover the real bruises to add the fake ones. To know that I could emotionally and physically handle that was therapeutic. The first time I ever had to scream in the film, I was completely terrified I wouldn’t be able to do it, but the biggest scream in the world came out of my mouth. I blew the poor sound man’s ears out. The Strangers is one of the last films you did before taking some time off. I took a little time offbefore Super and The Ledge. I just had a rough couple of years, having Milo and then getting divorced and trying to rebuild my life again. I found it tricky to figure out how to work, and be a mother, and be a single mom. Milo and I have been in such transition—I’ve been rebuilding and trying to be patient. And I’ve just put all of my focus on that. Because I can’t go to work and be happy unless he’s happy and feels secure.


how in-the-street everything is. In L.A., everything happens in the home, and the part out in the world is very quick and isolated. Here is the opposite: all the magic happens out in the world and out in the street! You meet your friends out for dinner or for a drink, or you go for a walk.

just had a “Irough couple of years—I’ve been rebuilding and trying to be patient. And I’ve just put all of my focus on that.

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at 33, “Now, I’m getting ready to have way more fun than I ever used to, because I didn’t let myself when I was younger.

You come from a long line of hard-working moms, right? Yeah. My mom wasn’t always home with me in the beginning of my life, and then she was. It’s amazing, once you have a child, how much you relate to your own parents in a whole new way. I just understand the circumstances of my childhood a little more. It was not normal at all, my upbringing. I think I often didn’t understand that when I was younger. In turn, that makes me want to create something very specific for my life. But it’s been really interesting, the way things have unfolded. I’m accepting what happens in life, and how it affects you, and how things don’t always go as you expected them to. That loss of the dream—because you spend your whole childhood planning how you’re going to do things—it’s actually very painful but quite liberating at the same time when you have to let go of that ideal and see yourself in an imperfect light. As a woman, especially, having a child and being a mother and dealing with the things that come up is a whole other feeling of strength than any other I’ve felt before.


Being in your 20s is sort of a selfish time for a lot of people, trying to figure out what you’re going to do with your life… But mine was the opposite, which is so interesting. And now, at 33, I’m getting ready to have way more fun than I ever used to, because I didn’t let myself when I was younger. I was always working or in a family. There must be something liberating about finding what you want to dedicate yourself to, and finding it so young, so that now you can spend your time thinking about what else you want to do. I’m bursting with ideas. I feel quite excited about the next couple of years, because there is so much I want to do. Even just with acting. And I would love to produce and direct. I’m filled with so much…richness from all these experiences I’ve had, the good and the bad. They really expand your heart and your understanding and your whole world. And knowing what I wanted to do—I’m so grateful for that. Almost every day, I thank the stars that I have that passion and that direction. My heart’s desire is also a job that I get paid for. My grandmother always said that everyone has a song in her heart, and not everyone gets it out in her lifetime. And I get to speak that truth. We all need that. It comes along also, though, where I’ve thought, Fuck this! I never got a childhood! I’ve been working, supporting my family since I was 13! I never got to go to college! Which is silly; I shouldn’t be a victim in that. I could have gone to school, but I had all of these amazing opportunities, and I always thought I would go to school later in life and didn’t. I’ve learned and experienced so much, but I do envy all my friends a bit who went to college, who had that freedom to explore and educate themselves and cultivate their minds. Instead, I just jumped straight into the job I love.

You’ve gotten a lot done by 33. Do you think about going back to school? That’s a really good point. I should. But because I worked so hard from such a young age into my early 30s, I’m really enjoying being a mom and just not being in a rush. I have this feeling that we live in a world now where everyone is saying, “What are you doing next?” All anyone wants to talk about is the next thing and the next thing. I don’t feel like I’m in a rush. I feel like I’m 33, and I have the rest of my life—hopefully—to do so many different things. Is being a mom kind of the ultimate creative job? Creating a person? Well, they just come out who they are! You’re so quick to judge parents. To judge humans on how they were raised, to judge parents for what they did. But you see when you become a parent yourself, children are really born with this innate sense of themselves. They come out that way from day one. It’s interesting to figure that out: how to nurture and guide them but also to allow them to be who they are. To see in them what they are naturally good at and interested in and encourage them in those ways. Did your mom and dad do that for you? Yeah, but it takes a village. In my case it took a village. My dad is very sweet. It’s nice to know as a woman that you have your father’s love. And I always felt so grateful that I had so much love from Todd, because he wasn’t my dad and he chose to be my dad from the moment I was born, and he still takes care of me and loves me. Then my mom, too, and my aunt and my grandmother—they all kind of took turns raising me. And now it’s the same with Milo: he’s surrounded by so many crazy women all the time. But as a mother, you really need a lot of help and support. It’s really good for me, because I always tried to do everything myself. I think for the first time in the past couple of years, I haven’t been as afraid to ask for help. It’s hard for you to ask for help? It is. I’m quite hard on myself, I think. I’m a strange combination. I’m very sensitive, even vulnerable at times, and I’m tough as nails at the same time. Because I’ve been through a lot in my life, and I think I’m quite resilient. Now I’m OK with allowing feelings to happen, not being afraid to get messy and feel them. But you have to ask for help! Do you have best friends who help you? Definitely. I even live with one of them. Don’t you love living with girls? Secretly, I would live on a commune if I could. I just love women! I’m so fascinated by them, my girlfriends. I’m fascinated with the way they smell, and the way they look, and the way they think and move and react, and how different we all are. How much we need each other and how valuable those friendships are. I love women. I just love to be around them. B

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Heading to a potluck? We’ve got your contribution covered

TO THE DELIGHT of their hungry, inspired readers, food bloggers—everyday folks with a knack for cooking and a mind to share it—are spicing up the Web with droolworthy photos of their culinary accomplishments and personal accounts from the kitchen. We invited some of our favorites to an imaginary potluck and asked them to share the tastiest eats they would bring, from finger food and veggie sides to a fabulous dessert and cocktail. Lucky for you, the recipes are totally real. PHOTOGRAPHED BY SARAH ANNE WARD // STYLING BY STEPHANIE HANES // FOOD STYLING BY LAUREN LAPENNA 54 / BUST // APR/MAY


Savory Asparagus Pie Makes one 9-inch pie



To make the crust, combine the flour, sugar, and salt. Cut in butter with a pastry cutter until mixture resembles fine crumbs with the butter chunks no larger than peas. Add the cold water 1 tsp. salt a little bit at a time until mixture just clumps together. Shape 10 Tbsp. cold unsalted dough into one large ball and another ball about ¼ its size. butter, cut to cubes Cover with plastic and chill for 30 minutes (or up to overnight). 1 Tbsp. cold water Heat butter in a heavy-bottomed pan over very low heat. Add onion and let sweat for about 10 minutes, stirring occasionally. Once FOR THE FILLING: onion is translucent and slightly caramelized, let cool. In a large 1 Tbsp. butter bowl, combine crème fraîche and chèvre. Add the egg, and whisk 1 medium onion, chopped until fully blended. Add salt, pepper, nutmeg, chives, and lemon 8 oz. crème fraîche juice. Add chopped asparagus and onion, and mix with spatula. 3½ oz. chèvre Roll out the large ball of chilled dough on a lightly floured surface. Transfer to a greased 9-inch pie pan. Preheat oven to 1 egg 3 375 degrees. Roll the smaller ball of dough into a long, thin ⁄4 tsp. salt 1 oval. Slice it into 5 – 8 strips for the lattice crust. ⁄4 tsp. freshly ground Halve the reserved asparagus stalks lengthwise. Pour the asparablack pepper 1 ⁄8 tsp. freshly ground nutmeg gus filling into the piecrust, and smooth top with a spatula. To create 1 Tbsp. chopped fresh chives the lattice, lay one asparagus stalk in the center. Lay a pastry strip on top of the stalk, perpendicular to the middle. Lay an asparagus 2 tsp. lemon juice stalk on either side of the original stalk (so that the blunt ends and 1 large bunch asparagus, the flower tips alternate) over the pastry strip. Lay two pastry strips ends trimmed; reserve on either side of the first strip, gently tucking them underneath the 4 good-looking long stalks and chop the rest middle asparagus stalk to create a basket weave. Continue weaving into ½" bias-cut slices in this manner until you reach the ends of the pie. Arrange any leftover pastry along the pie’s edge until it’s well integrated and fairly even in bulk. Crimp or pinch edges. Brush top of pie with milk or egg wash (optional), and bake for about 40 – 45 minutes, or until top is just lightly browned. Cool 10 minutes before serving. 1¾ cups all-purpose flour 1


This savory pie is a favorite of mine and it’s always a real eye-catcher when I bring it to potlucks. Despite its fancy looks, however, it’s a simple recipe involving raw asparagus, a bit of goat cheese, and crème fraîche baked together in a buttery pie crust.

tsp. sugar

Day job: Outreach and communications at Sixpoint, a craft brewery in Brooklyn Cooking inspiration: In terms of how I prepare things, I’m inspired by my mother’s native Chinese techniques more than anything else. Kitchen philosophy: I think cooking is something that can and should be done on an everyday basis by just about anyone, for their own well-being and that of the food system. Best place to buy ingredients: N.Y.C.’s Union Square Greenmarket. Or better yet, the times I don’t have to shop for food because my rooftop garden is overflowing with vegetables, and the chickens have laid plenty of eggs. Favorite food quote: “Think about where the food came from and the amount of work necessary to grow the food, transport it, prepare and cook it, and bring it to the table.” –Buddha, Five Contemplations While Eating

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HeidiSWANSON 101 COOKBOOKS San Francisco

Day job: I work for myself. Primarily on cookbooks, my Web site, and the occasional creative project/collaboration.

Mostly Not Potato Salad Serves 4 – 6

Kitchen philosophy: It’s important to cook regularly. If you don’t already, it’s the sort of thing that will take you on a journey and change your life in ways you might not be able to imagine. Cooking is a way to share with others, treat yourself well, and bring people together. I find cooking to be...a good metronome for my day-to-day life. If I get so busy that I don’t have the time or inclination to cook, I try to make tweaks.


small red-skinned potatoes, quartered

Big handful of green beans, cut into 1-inch pieces 2

Tbsp. whole-grain mustard


Tbsp. red-wine vinegar

Extra-virgin olive oil ½ tsp. natural cane sugar or agave nectar Fine-grain sea salt ¼ cup finely chopped dill 1

small leek, white and tender green parts, trimmed and chopped

Guilty food pleasure: Salted pretzels dunked in crème fraîche.


stalks celery, diced


cucumber, unpeeled, seeded, and cut into tiny cubes

Favorite album to cook to: Lee “Scratch” Perry’s Scratch Attack!


oz. extra-firm tofu, cut into small cubes


Tbsp. chopped fresh chives

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This is one of those no-fuss dishes that can handle a car or bike ride, is best served family-style, and tastes great at room temperature—in other words, perfect potluck fare. Generous amounts of green beans, celery, cucumber, and tofu are tossed with a dill-and-caramelized-leek base. For you traditionalists, there is just enough mustard and red-wine vinegar to give it that classic French potato-salad flavor. INSTRUCTIONS Bring a pot of water to a rolling boil. Salt generously, add the potatoes, and cook until tender but not falling apart, about 10 minutes. Thirty seconds before the potatoes are done cooking, add the green beans to the pot. Drain the potatoes and beans and set aside. In the meantime, make the dressing by whisking together the mustard, vinegar, 1 Tbsp. olive oil, the sugar or agave nectar, and ¼ tsp. salt in a bowl. Taste and adjust if needed. In a large skillet, sauté the dill in a splash of olive oil over medium-high heat. Add a couple pinches of salt, stir in the leek, and sauté until golden and slightly crispy, 4 – 5 minutes. In a large bowl, gently toss the potatoes and green beans, celery, cucumber, tofu, chives, and half of the leek with most of the dressing. Taste, and add a sprinkling of salt if needed. Turn out onto a platter, and finish with a final drizzle of dressing and the remaining leek. Serve chilled or at room temperature.


Cooking inspiration: I travel quite a bit, and that is always a source of inspiration—learning how other cooks use ingredients specific to their country or region. I find inspiration in books, trips to the market, the weather/seasons, and reader suggestions.


Day job: Writer and editor

Coconut Meatballs with Coconut Rum Dipping Sauce Makes 65 meatballs



large onion, chopped fine


large green bell pepper, chopped fine

Extra-virgin olive oil 1

lb. ground beef (not lean)


lb. ground pork (not lean)

⁄3 cup plus 1⁄3 cup coconut flour (unsweetened)


2½ tsp. salt ¼ tsp. freshly grated nutmeg ¼ cup minced parsley leaves ¼ cup minced fresh oregano PHOTO (RIGHT): MONICA NAVARRO


large egg


¼ cup dark rum 1

cup coconut milk


Tbsp. brown sugar


pinch red pepper flakes


Tbsp. butter


Putting a twist on a classic dish is a surefire way to please (and impress!) a crowd. These coconut meatballs reinvent an old-fashioned potluck favorite with bold, Caribbean flavor that will have guests coming back for seconds. INSTRUCTIONS Preheat your oven to 375 degrees. Heat 2 Tbsp. olive oil in a heavy cast-iron skillet, and add the onion and bell pepper. Cook over moderately low heat, stirring occasionally, until softened. Remove from heat, and let the mixture cool. In a large glass bowl, combine the ground meat with the onion and pepper, 2⁄3 cup coconut flour, salt, nutmeg, parsley, oregano, and the egg. Use your hands to form the mixture into 1- to 1½-inch meatballs. Roll each meatball in the remaining coconut flour, and set aside on a separate plate. In the same skillet, heat 3 Tbsp. olive oil over moderately high heat until hot but not smoking, and brown the meatballs in batches, adding oil as necessary. Transfer browned meatballs with a slotted spoon to a baking dish. Once all are in, place in the oven for about 20 minutes, or until cooked through. While the meatballs are baking, bring the skillet up to medium heat and add the rum. Use a wooden spoon to stir and scrape all the bits of coconut and other good stuff into the sauce. Once the rum has reduced by about half, add the coconut milk, brown sugar, and red pepper flakes, and continue stirring. Let this reduce again to half, and add the butter. Let this cook down about a third, stirring continuously. You’ll end up with an amazing, creamy, golden-colored sauce. Add salt to taste and remove from heat. Serve the meatballs over a bed of lettuce with the sauce on the side.

Cooking inspiration: Just about everything I see can lead to a dish. I recently made a cake based on the cover illustration of a novel I read (Aimee Bender’s The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake), and I’m wild about new products with quirky labels. Kitchen philosophy: I just make whatever it is that I’m craving. Sometimes that means rich stews and flavorful braises. Sometimes it’s chocolate cake. Sometimes it’s crisp salads or fruit sorbets. I rarely go wrong when I cook this way. Most-used kitchen tool: I use my Le Creuset French oven and antique cast-iron skillet at least once a day. Guilty food pleasure: Jet-Puffed marshmallows straight out of the plastic bag. Most beloved cookbook: Eat This… It’ll Make You Feel Better! by Dom DeLuise. I discovered this hilarious book in my mom’s kitchen as a little girl, and I swear it’s what made me fall in love with food.

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Day job: I’m currently finishing up my first cookbook, and I run a catering-and-events business called On the Lamb with my two best friends. Cooking inspiration: The farmers’ markets in California are the stuff dreams are made of. Those big stands of fresh produce are always an amazing inspiration.

Best thing I’ve ever eaten: I love the house-cured meats at Salt’s Cure in L.A.

Cucumber Raspberry Vodka Sparklers Makes 4 cocktails


I find cooking to be… the tits. Most beloved cookbook: The Gourmet Cookbook edited by Ruth Reichl; it has everything—ever. Favorite spice: Cinnamon, because it makes my coffee smell like heaven every morning. Favorite meal of the day: Breakfast...and second breakfast.

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No festive meal is complete without an adult beverage, and this cocktail is the perfect way to raise a glass. The fresh flavors of cucumber, mint, and raspberries celebrate the end of winter, and its not-too-sweet taste will spare you the post-potluck hangover.

English cucumbers

Small ice cubes 1

cup loosely packed fresh mint leaves


tsp. granulated sugar

12 fresh raspberries, rinsed 3

Tbsp. fresh lime juice (from 2 – 3 limes)


oz. (½ cup) vodka


oz. (2 Tbsp.) Cointreau


large bottle sparkling water (you can use lemon-lime soda if you’d like more sweetness)

INSTRUCTIONS Cut 4 thin spears from one cucumber, and reserve for garnish (most of the cucumber will remain intact). Peel both cucumbers, and quarter them lengthwise. Scrape out seeds with a spoon and discard. Coarsely chop cucumbers, then purée in a food processor until smooth. Strain through a fine sieve, pressing on solids to extract as much liquid as possible. Fill a cocktail shaker with ice. Add mint, sugar, raspberries, and lime juice, and shake. Add 3⁄4 cup cucumber juice, the vodka, and Cointreau, and shake. Strain into 4 glasses filled with ice. Finish with a splash of sparkling water in each glass and stir. Garnish each cocktail with a cucumber spear.


Kitchen philosophy: Add sugar and make it good.


Day job: PR and community manager at

Banana-Split Whoopie Pies Makes 12 very large or 24 not-so-small whoopie pies



cups all-purpose flour


tsp. baking soda

½ tsp. salt 4

Tbsp. butter, room temperature


Tbsp. non-hydrogenated vegetable shortening

½ cup light brown sugar ¼ cup granulated sugar 1

tsp. vanilla extract




very ripe bananas, mashed


1½ cups Marshmallow Fluff


1¼ cups non-hydrogenated vegetable shortening 1

cup confectioners’ sugar


Tbsp. vanilla extract

¼ cup strained strawberry preserves (or spreadable fruit) FINISHING TOUCHES:

Dipping chocolate Maraschino cherries, drained Chopped peanuts

Let’s be honest. A potluck is little more than a politely disguised culinary showdown. And nothing says “I win, bitches,” like whoopie pies dressed up as an old-fashioned treat from your grandma’s favorite soda shop: vanillaand-strawberry-swirled marshmallow filling sandwiched between two fluffy banana cakes, dunked in chocolate, sprinkled with peanuts, and topped with a cherry. INSTRUCTIONS To make the cakes, preheat your oven to 350 degrees. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper and set aside. In a small bowl, sift flour, baking soda, and salt together. In another bowl, beat together the butter, shortening, sugars, and vanilla for about 3 minutes, or until light and fluffy. Add the eggs and beat 2 minutes more. Mix in bananas, then the flour mixture, until well incorporated. For large whoopie pies, drop by the tablespoonful on your baking sheet. For smaller pies, use a ½ Tbsp. of batter. Bake for 10 minutes, or until edges begin to brown. Cool in pan on a wire rack for 5 minutes, then remove from pan to cool completely. To make the filling, beat together the Marshmallow Fluff and shortening. After 3 minutes on medium speed, the mixture will be smooth and fluffy; reduce speed to low, and add the sugar and vanilla. Once incorporated, increase the speed to medium and beat until fluffy, about 3 minutes. Mix in the strawberry preserves. To assemble the whoopie pies, use a spoon to plop a generous amount of filling on one cake. Top with another cake and repeat until finished. Pop the whoopie pies in the freezer while you melt your chocolate. Then dunk half of each cold whoopie pie, and place on a sheet of waxed paper. Before the chocolate hardens, sprinkle with chopped peanuts and top with a cherry.

Cooking inspiration: Music and pop culture, mainly. I’ve made desserts inspired by everything from pro wrestling to black metal. Kitchen philosophy: Embrace your fails. Even Martha has a bad day once in a while and if you’re lucky, you can eat your mistakes. Favorite place to shop for ingredients: I get all my cute decorations and packaging supplies at I drop big money at Whole Foods, too. Avoiding hydrogenated oils and unethically sourced chocolate isn’t cheap! Most-used kitchen tool: My offset spatula. I think I frost things in my sleep. Top three pantry staples: High-quality vanilla extract, pure maple syrup, and real butter. Favorite album to cook to: The Cramps’ Bad Music for Bad People

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More than just a pastime for rifle-toting mountain men, northern Wisconsin’s annual white-tailed-deer hunt also attracts a surprising number of women. And whether it’s for food, for friendship, or just for fun, these gals all have their own reasons for pulling the trigger BY JENNY ROSE RYAN PHOTOGRAPHED BY SARA RUBINSTEIN


Katie Blake Cook near her home in Danbury, WI // BUST / 61

Kelly Wondra in Frederic, WI 62 / BUST // APR/MAY

VERY NOVEMBER, SHOTS ring out in the Wisconsin wilderness. That’s the month when thousands of people descend on the state’s forests and fields in search of camaraderie, relaxation, and yes, animals to kill. They’re there to hunt white-tailed deer; it’s as much a part of the regional culture as riding snowmobiles and cutting wood for winter warmth. This hunt is what hunting-ethics groups call a “fair chase”—watching and waiting, tracking and following animals in an open, wild area. And it’s not just a bunch of dudes wearing blaze-orange jackets. While it's often touted as an activity for manly-man gun nuts, hunting duties have been shared by the women of Wisconsin since before the first European settlers arrived in the 1800s. Women of the Native American Ho-Chunk tribe joined in yearly expeditions to the prairie to hunt bison. Ojibwe women hunted in the winter, complementing their other methods of living off the land. And as settlers arrived and cleared the forest to create farms and tend livestock, both men and women also hunted for food and clothing. This practice created a local women’s hunting culture that has only become stronger over the centuries. While men’s participation in gun hunting in Wisconsin has declined in recent years, the number of women under 30 who are taking it up continues to rise. According to the University of Wisconsin and the Wisconsin Department of Natural Resources, in the year 2000, 48,022 girls and women in the state purchased licenses to hunt deer, accounting for 7.4 percent of all gun-hunting licenses sold that year. In 2007, that number rose to 8.4 percent. Today in northern Wisconsin, girls regularly take gun-safety classes alongside boys and skip just as many days of school to attend family turkey or pheasant hunts. And they hunt for the same reasons men do: they want to be outside in nature; they want to spend time with the people they love; and they want to live self-sufficiently by killing and processing their own food. “It’s a great tradition to keep for the rest of your life,” says Kelly Wondra, 21, a student and lifelong hunter from Frederic, WI. “And I’ll be able to share it with my own kids someday.” Wondra hunts white-tailed deer for their meat—something that she recognizes is sometimes difficult for people outside Wisconsin to understand. “I grew up in a small town, and [hunting] wasn’t that big of a deal because everyone here pretty much does it,” she says. “But if you come from a bigger city, it might seem a little weird. Some people might think that it’s


cruel to the animals. But we don’t just shoot them for the heck of it; we actually will use all of the meat.” Jolleen Jensen, 32, of Fall Creek, WI, also hunts with the aim of harvesting meat to eat. She’s been bow-hunting whitetailed deer for more than six years, since she picked up archery from her boyfriend, who is also a hunter. Yes, Jensen hunts with a bow and arrow—a skill that takes patience and practice. “It could take days, weeks, or even years to harvest something that you are looking for,” she says. For Jensen, any deer she shoots is a prize. “For someone new to hunting, whether it’s big or small, it will always be a trophy to you. Whether you find the game you are looking for or not, it’s still fun just to go out and see the wildlife.” She says hunting is about the experience—the watching and waiting and being in the native environment of the animal she’s looking to harvest. One of the biggest challenges Jensen says women hunters face that their male counterparts do not is maintaining the patience it takes to wait for the right animal in nature when nature calls. After all, going to the bathroom when you’re out in the woods all day in a tree is a challenge. “I started out with a one-piece suit, then went to bibs [overalls] but still had to take off the jacket to take the bibs off the shoulders,” she explains of her complicated hunting attire. “Now I have insulated pants, so that has been a little easier, especially if you’re up 20 feet in a tree.” For women like Jensen who learn to hunt as adults, Wisconsin has a growing number of resources to get them up to speed. Becoming an Outdoors Woman (BOW) is a wilderness-skills program that began in 1991 as a way for women interested in hunting to gain the knowledge they need to confidently participate. Peggy Farrell, BOW’s director, says that while historically women have attended BOW workshops for various reasons, in the past 5 to 10 years she has seen an increase in the number interested specifically in self-sufficiency. This mirrors her own interest in hunting animals for food. “I think we need to think long and hard about how we treat animals harvested for meat,” she says. To hunters like Farrell, this means teaching a new generation of female hunters how to make a clean shot to minimize the animal’s suffering. “A lot of people ask me, ‘If you love [an animal], why shoot it?’” she says. “One answer I would give is that a lot of animals wouldn’t do as well as they do if we didn’t have management [practices] that included hunting.” The blood and gore of killing for food is not something that generally fazes women like Farrell. Since it’s a part of the cul-

While men’s participation in gun hunting in Wisconsin has declined in recent years, the number of women under 30 who are taking it up continues to rise.

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ture and practices of the region, it’s a given—a necessary step process of watching the wild animal move through its natural in the process. Yet, it’s not taken for granted. Killing the ani- environment, deciding to end its life, pulling the trigger, promal is just one aspect of hunting; there’s also preparing, wait- cessing the animal into food…it’s taxing. It’s much easier to reing, failing, waiting some more, finally killing something, then main removed from the gruesome parts of creating food from processing, butchering, storing, and sharing the meat. “When animals. However, I feel like killing an animal for food myself you choose to harvest an animal (or choose not to because the has allowed me a better opportunity to be respectful of life and timing or situation isn’t right), you understand the animal—its its sacrifice than I would have if I only ever wandered through behavior, how it lives and thinks,” says Farrell. “When you take the meat department in a grocery store.” Whether they do it for food, camaraderie, or to be out in it home and prepare it in a way that does it justice, you have the whole story, and you enjoy every minute of the food you nature, the women who hunt in Wisconsin’s wilderness share prepared. You don’t earn this same connection when you’re a deep respect for the tradition and for the woods where the animals live. In rural counties with tons of deer, young women not hunting.” For some women, however, just the act of spending time routinely join their dads and brothers for long, cold days of with the hunting community out in nature and enjoying tracking (and watching and waiting) in November. Many, like their dads and brothers, return home the meals that come from someone with grandiose stories about “the one else’s successful kill make the annuthat got away.” And sharing these al snowy trek worthwhile. One such community stories is just as imporenthusiast is Katie Blake Cook, 33, “Killing an animal tant as the hunt itself. a land surveyor from Frederic, WI. Meghan Grindell, 33, a medical When Cook was four, she began joinfor food myself has assistant from Frederic, WI, knows ing her parents as they hunted from allowed me a better all about that. Her quintessential a platform built in a tree, known as a hunting story involves the day she deer stand. Being in the woods early opportunity to be had a 12-point white-tailed buck in in the morning taught her to apprerespectful of life and her sight when she was 12 years old. ciate nature and inspired her to work As she crouched just a few feet away to protect it. And to this day, joining its sacrifice than in a spot high in the trees, the buck others on the annual deer hunt helps I would have if I looked around, nose twitching. Beinform her work and inspires her hind her, Grindell’s dad whispered, to remain committed to resource only ever wandered “Easy…easy…wait,” as she put her finprotection. “This year opening day through the meat ger on the trigger. The deer paused. was pretty successful,” she says of “Now fire!” her dad urged in her ear. the hunt. “I got to my stand well bedepartment in a She squeezed the trigger. Click. Nothfore daylight, and in the darkness, I grocery store.” ing. The buck paused, sniffed, and could hear leaves crunching around bounded away as they watched. “I me through the woods. I could hear heard a whole bunch of not-typical the crunching close to my stand but language fly out of my dad’s mouth as couldn’t see what was making the sound. Later, the ice on all the tree branches began to melt he hopped up with his gun to fire at the buck,” says Grindell, in the sun, and it rained down as the thawing trees snapped seeming to enjoy the memory of bonding with her dad much and popped.” Cook also recalls that last year was a success, more than she seems to regret missing out on that handsome because a large gray owl perched on a branch at eye level. “It rack of antlers. “Ever since then, I’ve been hooked.” Grindell went on to participate in many successful family was eerie to be captured in the gaze of such a huge, graceful, hunts as a teenager, and now, as a busy parent of four, she’s night hunter,” she says. “I felt like a mouse.” Despite the decades she’s spent hunting, Cook has killed hoping to see her kids (including her daughters) follow in only three or four animals. And after the first one, when she her footsteps. “I would never force my girls to hunt—they can was 12, she cried. Today, she says, the experience is more choose to take part in any activity they’re interested in,” she about enjoying the Mardi Gras–like atmosphere of the north- says. But Grindell also concedes she has a deep desire to iniern Wisconsin white-tailed deer season. It’s about connecting tiate her girls into the world of the traditional family hunt. with her roots and appreciating where her food comes from “I would love to share what I know with them,” she says. “I when others in her hunting party share what they shoot. And have wonderful memories of hunting with my dad, and I reprimarily it’s about understanding wild places and the wild ally think it’s good bonding for a father and a daughter or a things humans affect every day in ways both big and small. “It’s mother and a daughter. Hopefully my girls’ memories will be not easy to kill an animal, psychologically,” says Cook. “The as fond as mine.” B

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A talk-show legend whose opinionated style launched her from radio to books to television, WENDY WILLIAMS has never been shy about speaking her mind. Here, she takes us into her inner sanctum and gives pointed advice on what it takes to be “the queen of all media” BY GIULIA ROZZI



AT 46, WENDY WILLIAMS has achieved the American dream. She’s got a killer career in TV, radio, and publishing. And her husband of 16 years, Kevin Hunter (who’s also her manager and producer), and their 10-year-old son keep things from getting lonely at the top. The consummate talk-show host, she’s fun, fierce, and has been known to unapologetically joke on air about her fake boobs, her fake hair, and her deep voice, while always taking the jabs she gets from E!’s The Soup in stride. It’s this unique combo of unabashed confidence and humility that draws her regular viewers so close. And with her signature Jersey-girl style, she attracts fans by the millions every weekday by sharing the latest gossip, making us laugh, and calling people out on their shit. Williams became big news in July 2009 when The Wendy Williams Show— her syndicated daytime talk show that features celebrity interviews, cooking segments, and the latest beauty and fash-

ion trends, all delivered with a healthy dose of attitude—was heralded as a “breakthrough in daytime” by The New York Times. The show’s positive, gracious vibe quickly gained Williams an enthusiastic cult following that has grown over the past two years into a massive fan base. But it took Williams a long time to become an overnight sensation. A 23-year radio veteran, the New Jersey native first made a name for herself as the host of the top-rated Wendy Williams Experience on WBLS in New York. Her midday drive show was the place to go for hot pop-culture news and sage advice. It was also the place where listeners eagerly tuned in to hear Williams fearlessly push the buttons of stars most reporters were too timid to confront, including Tupac Shakur, Method Man, Whitney Houston, and Bow Wow. She was never shy about asking her radio guests anything, and while that sometimes ignited controversy and even a few rivalries (and caused her to be the topic of some unkind rap lyrics), it also built up enough demand for her ballsy brand of journalism that The Wendy Williams Experience was syndicated coast to coast. Her success at WBLS also earned her the honor of being the second African American woman to be inducted into the National Radio Hall of Fame, and it opened the door to her second career, as a writer. To date she’s penned two New York Times best sellers, Wendy’s Got the Heat (Simon & Schuster) and The Wendy Williams Experience (Dutton Books), as well as several novels. In April, she’ll be venturing into yet another format when her new dating show, Love Triangle, debuts on the Game Show Network. So is there anything this self-proclaimed “queen of all media” can’t do? Here, she sits down with us in her luxuriously appointed N.Y.C. dressing room to chat about family, food, and making it in the biz.

Before we begin, I love the hot-pink and leopard-print décor here in your dressing room! This looks like my dream office. Thank you. This used to be Montel Williams’ office, and back then, nothing was here. It was a blank slate, and this is how I wanted it done. You’re going to be hosting a new show on the Game Show Network. Can you tell me more about that? It’s called Love Triangle, and it starts on April 18th. It’s not as much a game show as it is perhaps a relationship show. The gist of the show is there’s one person caught between two people, and they can’t figure out which one to choose. They’re at the point in their life where they want to choose one and are tired of dating both. Sometimes the people they’re dating know about each other, and sometimes they don’t. But they come on Love Triangle, and I help them figure it out through a series of things like “the Love Triangle soul-mate survey,” where they answer questions and take a lie-detector test. Then there is a payoff at the end, where we send the couple to Napa Valley or something like that. As a wife and mother, how do you balance such a busy career and family? Right now I’m in the process of taping the first season of Love Triangle, which is 32 episodes. I leave The Wendy Williams Show Thursday evenings and get on a plane with Kevin and go to L.A. to tape Love Triangle. We tape eight episodes of Love Triangle on Friday and another eight on Saturday. Then I come back to New York and tape The Wendy Williams Show Monday through Thursday. It’s exciting because it’s what I always dreamt of. And I don’t feel overworked, because I can say no to anything. But what fool is going to say no? And it’s temporary. My

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If you want to “be a media person, hold off on the family stuff until between 32 and 37. And you’re not going to be able to have a gaggle of kids.

parents are still alive, so they are in New Jersey for the entire month even though we are here during the week, they are there to hold down the household for my son while I’m traveling to L.A. And Kevin and I, you know, it’s great being married to someone who supports you undyingly, because we jump on the plane and hustle together, and that’s how it’s been since we first met. It makes it easier. People always ask women, “How do you do it?” And it definitely starts with support at home and natural energy. Do you consider yourself a feminist? Yes…no…well, I can’t say fully. I consider myself a feminist in some ways, but I do believe in assuming the role of the woman, you know? A lot of women want to know why they’re by themselves, because they don’t know how to shut up and play their position. That doesn’t mean you have to be stupid. Look, I know I’m bossy. I know I can take care

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of myself. I know “I don’t need no man.” But you know, it’s nice to have a boyfriend or a husband and the affection of a man. It is. I enjoy being a mother. I understand women who don’t want to be, but I like it. I enjoy cooking for my family, I like it when they come home and it’s warm and it’s clean and tastefully decorated. And I do that stuff. I don’t clean it [laughs]. I decorate it and I supervise what goes on. So yeah, I am a feminist, but I am also traditional. Well, since this interview will be appearing in our Food Issue, what do you like to cook for your family? Well, I’m not a great cook [laughs]. But I like to cook well-rounded meals that include vegetables, like they do in the movies. Like Donna Reed. Chicken, steak, fish, but I also cook the fun stuff. Every Sunday morning we eat breakfast together, and I make pancakes. What was the last thing you ate before this interview? I had eggs. I have them every morning—egg whites with onion and green peppers. No cheese. I love cheese, but it’s my weakness. It binds me, and it’s bad for cholesterol. Although, to the best of my knowledge, I’m very healthy. I feel optimum in energy, and my cholesterol is good. Oh, and I have to have lots of hot sauce. I eat this 20 minutes before every show. Do you have a favorite restaurant? I like chains. Maybe that’s stupid Americana or it makes me a stupid girl from Jersey. I like fancy-shmancy restaurants, but I love Red Lobster, Olive Garden, and every once in a while, like every six months, I love a full-fat Whopper with cheese from Burger King. And I like to eat in the parking lot in my car. I don’t want to take it with me, and I don’t want anyone with me. I don’t like to talk when I’m eating my food. To me, as soon as you talk, you’re releasing the flavors, you know? I don’t want to talk. I just want to enjoy the food.

Did you always know you wanted this career? Well, I knew I wanted to be a newscaster. And I wanted to be a radio personality. But I didn’t grow up with a bunch of talk shows. There were a few talk shows, which I loved, like Dinah Shore and things like that. But people like me have made [being a female talk-show host] more possible. People like Ricki Lake have made it more possible. She made it more possible for me. People like Chelsea Handler make it more possible for you to dream that and make it happen. I mean, I broke barriers that women hadn’t broken regarding radio. I didn’t think I’d be a radio star in New York, syndicated like that. I thought I’d be doing middays in Chicago, married to a cardiologist or a politician [she puts on a light, sexy radio voice] speaking in soft tones on FM 103. Because that’s what women sounded like when I was growing up. They were sidekicks on the morning shows; they were never the main dish. Or they did overnights and did quiet stories. And I was ready for that, too. But ya know, have a plan B, because while you might want to pursue this career on the side, you’ll need to make some money. And there’s no money until you’re a star. What advice would you give to aspiring future media mavens? College is important, but don’t spend your time in graduate school. ’Cause while you’re in graduate school, everyone else is out there taking the jobs. Unless there’s a branch of media you’re interested in that’s so specific, you have to be in graduate school to do it—but I don’t even know what that would be. I feel like there are a lot of people who use graduate school as a crutch when they can’t get a job. Make a personal life for yourself, but not too early. Like, no babies in your 20s. As a woman, I will say—and other married women might agree—when we get married or partnered, we give up way more than men do. If you want that family, marriage, and want to be a media

person, hold off on the family stuff until between 32 and 37. And you’re not going to be able to have a gaggle of kids. Keep yourself free, and always be ready to go where the job is. Find someone’s career that you can really model yourself after, not in terms of being like them but in terms of their lifestyle. You don’t need to meet that person, but there’s so much on the Internet and biographies where you can learn about them. Don’t ruin your career for love. This is where I’m not old-fashioned. I’ve had my boyfriends, my fair share of dating, but I always knew exactly what these guys were good for. I never treated them like crap, but the second the phone rang and I got a job in D.C., I said, “I’m going, and I’m not doing this long-distance thing.” Because you don’t make a lot of money, and you don’t have a lot of money or time to waste with friends and boyfriends who don’t understand your mission. It is a very lonely road to get where you want to go, so learn to be your own best friend. And if you’re not that girl yet, fake it till you make it—until you have a better understanding of yourself. I can say, at 46, there was a lot of faking till I got here. And I can’t wait to see what’s on the other side of 50, because there are some phenomenal women over on that 50-plus side. It gets better. Your womanhood gets better, but you’ve got to leave yourself open and free for all your career possibilities. But most important, make a life for yourself. Don’t make your career your life, or you will be a very sad—wealthy, if you’re successful—but a sad person. At the end of the day, you have to have a life. See what it’s like here? After the show, when I come in here and my glam squad is gone, who’s calling me? My mother, my father, my husband. My phone is not blowing up with a bunch of friends. Because it does get lonely at the top. But I am not alone. I have a stack of stuff to get through, and then I’ll trek outta here. Any truly honest successful woman will

agree, you have to have a life outside of this: kids, love, whatever it is. Friends are nice, but friends are fleeting. “Oh, she’s my best friend since I was five!” Oh yeah? Grab your first Daytime Emmy and see where that best friend is: she’s selling stories to the National Enquirer! So be careful, but make a life. I feel like everyone looks at this and thinks it’s so easy, and it’s not. I didn’t have anyone to look at and say, “Ohhh, it’s so easy.” ’Cause I really liked Dinah Shore, but she was an older white wom-

an and seemed to know all those famous people. And then Oprah came along, and I was, like, Go, girl! Ya know, she was fat and not a light-skinned black woman like Jayne Kennedy, who I grew up seeing on TV; she was gorgeous! But Oprah showed me an image I had never seen, and that let me know the possibilities are endless. I still wasn’t talking about being a TV talk-show host. I wanted to be on the radio, but this all happened through being successful on the radio. Now it’s a dream come true, and it’s great! B

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Self Portrait in Tub with Chinese Food

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EAT DRINK ONE WOMAN Artist Lee Price depicts our complicated relationship with food in her lifelike paintings BY EMILY MCCOMBS

“In this society, there’s so much pressure for women to be thin. We’re not supposed to have appetites—and not just for food, but for a lot of things.”


F YOU GLANCE too quickly at Lee Price’s hyperrealistic paintings, you might mistake them for photographs. But the 44-year-old upstate–New York artist would rather you focus on the subject matter than the technique, which is, for the most part, women and food. Price, who studied painting at Philadelphia’s Moore College of Art, has a long-held fascination with the intersection of these two subjects, inspired by her own experience. “The food thing came up because I’ve had issues with food ever since I was very young, and body-image issues. I was always very thin but always trying to lose weight,” she says. “They’re very personal paintings.” In fact, the images—bird’s-eye views of women surrounded by luscious-looking desserts or the crumpled wrappers of a junk-food binge—are all selfportraits, painted from photographs of the artist. The life-size works show Price, often nude or in underwear, in unusual eating situations, like sprawled across a bed shoving a pastry in her mouth or crouched in the bathtub holding a full pie. On one level, her work is about compulsivity: the aerial view is meant to conjure the sensation of watching oneself engage in a compulsive behavior and being una-


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ble to stop it. That aspect seems to resonate for many— Price often hears her work referred to as “binge paintings” or “bulimia paintings.” But she asserts that the images of women in repose surrounded by unrestricted portions of decadent treats can also be seen as a kind of liberation from the constant monitoring of food choices that so many engage in. “In this society, there’s so much pressure for women to be thin. We’re not supposed to have appetites—and not just for food, but for a lot of things. We’re the givers and not the consumers, and I think some of my recent paintings are about the women staring at the viewers and saying, ‘I’m not going to censor my appetite,’” says Price. Perhaps that’s why the food in the paintings—jelly donuts oozing off the canvas, or whipped, frothy cupcakes straight out of a high-caloric fever dream—seems as focal to the work as the female figures. “Oh my god, there are some paintings that I’ve done and I’m sitting painting them and I’m so hungry, and then I realize it’s because I’m painting all these chocolates,” says Price. “I always go to what’s decadent and forbidden like pies and cakes and sweets. I’m not going to do a bowl of vegetable soup.” Which makes the process much more enjoyable. When Price comes up with an idea of what she wants to paint, she rounds up her props—say, a cake or a box of cinnamon rolls—and has a photographer friend shoot the scene for her to use as reference. “For some of the really elaborate paintings, I’d actually have friends over, and we’d eat all the food,” she says. “I have a little party and tell everybody, ‘I’m doing a painting. It’s ice cream. Come help me eat the ice cream.’ People like when I’m in the middle of a painting.” She does, however, take a few liberties with her

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Cocoa Puffs

edible subject choices. Price is now a vegan, so in her more recent work, the food that looks like it contains meat or dairy doesn’t. (For a McDonald’s painting, she actually ordered a Quarter Pounder with no cheese or meat.) As a result of her new eating habits, she’s now working on a future series around the industrial farming of animals, which she says consists mostly of paintings of pigs. But it’s her self-portraits—which have been shown in galleries around the country, including L.A. and N.Y.C.—that she hopes will open up a dialogue about the taboo subject of women and food. “A lot of times, I feel like people are skirting the issues, like they don’t want to discuss the content. I’m surprised how few people ask me what they’re about. I feel like it makes people uncomfortable,” she says. “But I’m painting them and I’m displaying them, I’m not really trying to hide anything. I’m putting something on the table, like, ‘Here, look at this. Maybe you can relate to this.’” B

“I’m surprised how few people ask me what they’re about. I feel like it makes people uncomfortable.”

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Sam Kim shows off her kimchee creations

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A Food Star is Born


Though mainstream food culture may be dominated by men, women are taking the indie-food scene by storm. Here we reveal some of its coolest creators

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Jam maker Laena McCarthy in the kitchen


becoming a sought-after chef is long and arduous: you spend 15-hour days in a cramped, hot restaurant kitchen for meager pay as you attempt to work your way up the ladder. And if the tales in the recent spate of tell-all chef memoirs are true, the industry is full of abusive owners, coked-up coworkers, and testosteroneladen chefs. There is cursing and screaming. There is over-thetop sexism. And have you ever noticed how few female chefs there are? It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure it out: making it as a woman in the restaurant industry isn’t exactly easy. In fact, according to the Department of Labor, in 2004 two-thirds of the 3.1 million cooks, chefs, and food-prep workers in the U.S. were men. And it gets worse. A 2010 study by the New York City Restaurant Industry Coalition reports that female restaurant workers in N.Y.C. earn 21.8 percent less than their male counKelly Wondra in Frederic, WI 78 / BUST // APR/MAY

terparts with the same qualifications. Now, however, a new generation of lady food entrepreneurs is challenging the male-dominated culinary establishment. Facing tough economic times, gender discrimination, and fierce competition for jobs (renowned culinary school Le Cordon Bleu had almost a third more students in 2009 than in 2008), female foodies are forging their own path, operating gourmet-food trucks, launching specialty-food lines, running underground supper clubs, and even hosting their own wacky cooking shows. One look at the seller profiles on, an online marketplace for small food businesses, and you can see this trend in action. In the indie-food scene, women are thriving. Thirty-one-year-old librarian Laena McCarthy is one such woman. She makes jam like you’ve never tasted: grapefruit and smoked sea salt, strawberry-balsamic, clementine marmalade. In a tiny commercial kitchen in the back of Eastern District, a hip food shop in Brooklyn, NY, she cooks up big batches of preserves, which sell like hotcakes at local grocers and flea markets under the name Anarchy in a Jar. When I ask McCarthy why so many young women are attracted to the indiefood world, she explains by relating her own experience. “It’s very difficult to be a woman in a restaurant kitchen, at least in New York City,” she says. “I used to work in restaurant kitchens making my jam. It would be the female pastry chef and me in the morning, then all the guys would come in the afternoon and totally disrespect us. Sexism is very overt in the kitchen world.” On the indie side of things, however, McCarthy can work in food without having to deal with macho chefs. She also views her passion as something greater than a delicious business venture. “To me,jam-making has more of a relationship to farm and typical women’s work than being a chef,” she says. McCarthy’s interest in food and alternative ways of living came naturally, since she grew up in Woodstock, NY. “I was raised in a family that valued food, and local food in particular,” she tells me. “It was a DIY environment where I learned to garden and cook early on. Many of my friends growing up were food babies, with parents that ran organic bakeries, restaurants, and farms.” In her 20s, McCarthy made jam for friends and family, perfecting her offerings by playing with flavors she tasted in her travels around the world—strawberries and balsamic vinegar,

for instance, is a common food pairing in Italy. A few years ago, she noticed a real desire for local foodstuffs among the Brooklyn cultural scene, and Anarchy in a Jar was born. Since then, her business has taken off. The New York Times has called her preserves “extraordinary,” and she recently signed a contract with Williams-Sonoma (the cooking-supply giant will be selling Anarchy in a Jar in select stores). McCarthy is at the forefront of a burgeoning indie-food scene where local means everything, and many of her friends make their own beer, mustard, and cheese. Just recently, a Brooklyn picklemaker told her he sees them as the early-’90s grunge rockers of today. “I hope,” she jokes, “that he was thinking of me as Kim Deal rather than Courtney Love.” Though this underground food culture is receiving more attention than ever, women have always found recognition in the alternative food scene. In Berkeley, CA, in the late 1960s and early ’70s, women demonstrated their counterculture politics by rethinking the food system and opting for a more holistic, earth-friendly approach to eating. They made granola and whole-wheat bread and ate sandwiches topped with avocado and sprouts. In other words, health food before there was such a thing. The modern trends of vegetarianism and organics emerged from this scene, as did two women who would influence several generations of future foodies: Alice Waters, whose groundbreaking restaurant Chez Panisse inspired hundreds of chefs across the country to cook with local ingredients, and Frances Moore Lappé, food advocate and author of the famous vegetarian book Diet for a Small Planet. However, there is another history of women in the alternative scene that is manifesting in current food culture, one that has less to do directly with eating. The ’90s punk movement— with its emphasis on everyday creativity and a call-to-arms notion of DIY—has an obvious parallel in the modern-day indie-food scene. The ’90s was a time when men and women alike were encouraged to start their own band, book their own tour, make their own T-shirts, and create their own ’zines. As the popularity of DIY spread, people started to apply this ethos to other aspects of their lives, like crafting and cooking. Much like the way women the world over picked up guitars and

plugged in their amps, ladies are now brandishing whisks and spatulas, strapping on aprons to take on the food world. If food is the new “cool crafting” for indie women everywhere, it is in part due to the whimsical Clare Crespo. A 42-year-old Los Angeles–based artist and indie rocker (she once played in a band called Loser with Beck), she first started to combine crafts and cooking in 1998 by crocheting yarn sushi. As she puts it, “It was too hot in L.A. to crochet mittens.” Her sushi, and other crocheted foodstuffs, took off, and before she knew it, galleries were featuring her yarn creations. She then wrote the hit cookbook The Secret Life of Food, which included far-out edible creations like Spiderweb Soup and Meringue Mushrooms. It was loved by everyone from Vanity Fair to hip housewives, and its success garnered her regular appearances on the Today show and NPR. In the colorful cookbook, Crespo was literally playing with her food—something that ironically might be lost on the more earnest ’60s alternative-food foremothers. But her work has a political slant as well. “Food is democratic,” she says. “Not everybody can afford the artist studio, but everyone has a kitchen.” In the past several years, Crespo has continued to take a multidisciplinary approach to food with Yummyfun Kooking, a show she created by transforming her garage into a tiny TV studio and asking her art, film, and musician friends to help out. The result is a cross between Pee-wee’s Playhouse, Rachael Ray, and a B-52s concert. It’s become an underground and artworld phenomenon: kids across the country order her DVDs and art centers like the New Museum for Art in N.Y.C. carry the series. Each episode features the petite Crespo in a red high-collar sweater, taking young viewers through a variety of playful and surreal recipes, such as a giant face made out of mashed potatoes and veggies. Crespo’s idiosyncratic and playful approach to cooking is a style taken to heart by another rising indie-food star, Sam Kim, in Brooklyn, NY. Skimkim, her line of kimchee (a Korean dish of fermented vegetables), and kimchee-based items, made from all local ingredients, features unique and unusual flavors—you won’t find the traditional cabbage here. The 32-year-old, who has a side gig as a DJ, infuses her products

Ladies are now brandishing whisks and spatulas, strapping on aprons to take on the food world.

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with her quirky sense of humor (she named her spicy Bloody Mary mix Bloody Kim Jong-Il mix after the North Korean dictator, who supposedly injects himself with the blood of virgins to stay young). When I meet Kim at a wine bar in downtown N.Y.C., she’s already on a first-name basis with the bartender, although they just met. As I take a seat, Kim looks me over. “I hope you wore stretch pants; I brought the whole line,” she says, laughing. The genius of Skimkim and its selling point, along with Kim’s big personality, is the way she combines two very disparate food genres—Korean and southern—to come up with flavors that display a punk-rock clash of cultures, like her kimchee-bacon vinaigrette. But she doesn’t just do it; she does it extremely well. Her Brussels sprout tarragon kimchee is unlike anything I have eaten before. The herbal tarragon stands out against the abrasive garlic of the kimchee and is somehow mellowed by it; the Brussels sprouts are tender and sweet and not at all mushy. In a word: addictive. So addictive that within months of launching, Skimkim was picked up by several influential food blogs: Tasting Table, Serious Eats, and Brooklyn Based. Kim learned at a young age to take matters into her own hands. “My mom is a terrible cook,” she says. “Her favorite dish was something called Yummy Noodles, which was tuna, cream of mushroom soup, noodles, and peas, all stirred together.” Unhappy with the food her mother served, Kim started cooking in the second grade. “When I was in elementary school, I would grab the recipe cards by the butcher and make dinner,” she says. “Chicken picatta was my specialty.” Moving to New York to work in advertising, Kim soon learned the field was “a big boys’ club.” She decided to quit, putting her lifetime behind the stove to use, and began cooking full time. She started a catering company, but when that didn’t pan out, she turned to kimchee. “I wanted to do the whole southern/Asian thing in a food-product line,” she says. In just a few months, with no outside financing, Skimkim was born. It’s no wonder that Kim took an independent, do-it-yourself route to pursue her dreams. After all, she is part of a generation of girls who were taught they could do anything. And what Kim— and many women like her—wants to do is make food. The indie-food scene isn’t exploding just in New York and L.A. Women across the country are making moves in their kitchens. Like Kim, 31-year-old Chicago-native Iliana Regan also embraces the traditional foodstuff of her foremothers— but instead of kimchee, she gives the humble Polish pierogi an update. With a strong work ethic and a clear culinary talent (and no formal training), Regan is hell-bent on cooking up

beautiful, local food, filling her little dumplings with things like beer-braised lamb and fava beans. “I use local beer, local meat, organic veggies,” she says. “I keep it seasonal—I do elotes [corn] in the late summer, pumpkin and pie spice in the fall.” Chicago Magazine named the pierogi, sold under Regan’s One Sister label, “Best of Chicago.” She also runs an underground supper club that has been touted by Daily Candy Chicago, grows many of her own ingredients, and even forages for mushrooms, which she talks about the way record-store geeks gush about Radiohead. By cooking real food from local ingredients, without chemicals or preservatives like women have done for millennia, Regan tells me she feels like she is connecting to something deeper. Even her business moniker, One Sister, has special meaning. “The name is all about sustainability,” she says. “One sister being me, us, Mother Earth, and bringing it all back around, not taking too much.” This sentiment is echoed among all the women in the indie-food scene—eco-consciousness is not just a concept; it’s a practice. By making and fostering local, handmade food and food culture, they are trying to change the world. For Regan, the next step in that process is bringing her food to a larger audience. “I would love to open my own restaurant one day,” she says, “but I can’t afford it right now.” Financing, the dirty word of the restaurant world, is what makes or breaks a chef. For Regan to open and operate a restaurant, she would have to receive money from investors, something that generally is extremely hard to come by and can be even more difficult for women. Thirty-six-year-old Amanda Cohen is making waves in the restaurant biz as the chef and owner of gourmet vegetarian eatery Dirt Candy in N.Y.C. But she knows firsthand that she is a rarity. “A lot of the women chefs I know don’t even know where to start looking for investment, whereas male chefs actually get approached by financiers, or they are mentored in such a way that they know how to get money,” she says. “Or they just feel better about asking for money.” Cohen believes that women need to see more female chefs in power, as do financiers, in order for the system to change. She is happily leading that shift, whipping up delectable dishes like jalapeño hush puppies served with maple butter, and her take on chicken ’n’ waffles—buttermilk-battered cauliflower with savory waffles, horseradish, and wild arugula. Until the restaurant environment changes, though, women will continue to find more inventive ways to fund their foodie dreams. Dyann Huffman, 38, is proof of that. A Culinary Institute of America–trained chef living in San Diego, she surveyed the lo-

“A lot of the women chefs I know don’t even know where to start looking for investment, whereas male chefs actually get approached by financiers.”

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Vegetarian chef Amanda Cohen

cal restaurant landscape, the long hours involved, and the lack of funding available, and decided to take an alternative path. Over a bottle of champagne on her sunny back porch, she and her best friend, Kristina Repp, 29, hatched the idea to start a gourmet-food truck, and Devilicious was born (they financed the whole production on their own with a small line of credit from the bank). The women, both veterans of the restaurant world—Repp worked for years at the “front of the house”— wanted to be their own bosses. To that end, Huffman and Repp decided to do everything themselves so they wouldn’t have to answer to anyone and could cook the kind of food they love to eat, which is, Huffman says, “twisted comfort food.” They are also able to control ingredients, something that doesn’t always happen in corporate kitchens where there’s a push to cut costs by using processed foods. “With Devilicious, everything is made fresh that day, from scratch,” Huffman says. “When you make real food like your grandma used to make, you can’t cut corners. That’s why I smoke my own turkey breast and make my own condiments.” That DIY attention to detail makes a difference—Devilicious’ specialties, like smoked bacon dogs with house-made habane-

Dirt Candy’s portobello mousse, truffled toast, and pear-and-fennel compote

ro kimchee, and deconstructed corned beef with rye croutons, caramelized onion, fries, gruyère, and fried eggs, have attracted a rabid local following. Perhaps most important, Huffman and Repp have created a business that allows them to have a life outside of work. “Restaurant work is hard, and the hours are impossible,” says Huffman. “I have a young son, and I want to be there for him. The food truck allows me to end my days at five instead of eleven or midnight.” It’s just one more reason women are doing so well in the indie-food world. Eschewing the pay inequality and testosterone-fueled industrial kitchens of the typical restaurant scene for underground supper clubs, gourmet-food trucks, and their own independent eateries and lines of edibles, these female indie-food producers are carving out a new path. If food is the new rock ’n’ roll, perhaps restaurants are the big arena rock bands—loud and raunchy and headlined by men. The indie-food movement is more akin to the alternative music scene, where women have long held a place of reverence. By remaining independent, supporting the local economy, and using sustainable means of production, these ladies are leading a delicious new revolution. B

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roadside attraction The best cute, comfy, and casually cool looks for all your warm-weather adventuring



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the bust guide


ANNA CALVI Anna Calvi (Domino) Word on the street is that young English musician Anna Calvi has turned the heads of musical giants Brian Eno and Nick Cave. The reason is apparent after one listen to her dark and fervent selftitled release—a mix of reverb-heavy rock, blues, and romantic classical music paired with vigorous flamenco guitar plucking. The LP’s 10 tracks demonstrate not only Calvi’s abilities as a singer and guitarist but also her knack for captivating the listener with lyrical imagery. She belts out haunting tales of devils and lovers, luring her audience through the album’s shadowy, gothic journey with fiery vocals reminiscent of rock greats Patti Smith, Siouxsie Sioux, and Chrissie Hynde. But she still maintains a rich, resonating sound that is very much her own. [AURORA MONTGOMERY]

THE CURIOUS MYSTERY We Creeling (K) Since the early ’80s, bands like Rain Parade and the Flaming Lips have resurrected psychedelic music with a post-punk edge—setting the bar high for other groups that take the plunge down the rock ’n’ roll rabbit hole. The latest to reinvent the trippy wheel is Seattle’s the Curious Mystery on their sophomore album, We Creeling. Since their debut, Rotting Slowly, Shana Cleveland and Nicolas Gonzalez have added bass, drums, and violin to expand their groovy sound. “Up in the Morning” kicks off with a melodic drone, then introduces Cleveland’s breathy low-fi vocals. “Hot Port” rocks hard before breaking into a free-form jam that sounds like Television or Helium. The Curious Mystery should be the official soundtrack for the next generation of psych-garage aficionados. Now hit me with a sugar cube, please. [MICHAEL LEVINE]

DOES IT OFFEND YOU, YEAH? Don’t Say We Didn’t Warn You (End/Cooking Vinyl) Don’t Say We Didn’t Warn You, the second LP from British electro-rockers Does It Offend You, Yeah?, is packed with

thao and mirah THAO AND MIRAH (KILL ROCK STARS) THAO NGUYEN AND Mirah Yom Tov Zeitlyn have dropped their last names and joined forces under the Kill Rock Stars umbrella to create a delightful self-titled collective debut. Mirah has been rocking her pixieish vocals solo for well over a decade, and Thao’s been making waves as the driving force of the Get Down Stay Down, but this collaboration is better, even, than the sum of its parts. Occasionally when two artists decide on a union, something gets lost in translation. Not so with these ladies. Their dramatically different voices—Thao’s lush, soulful tone and Mirah’s smooth, ethereal sound—come together harmoniously throughout. “Eleven” sounds like an M.I.A. track with more refined vocals. “Little Cup” and “Teeth” lean on a rhythmically acoustic sound—guitars and mouth-made bass pass for unplugged folktronica. While most of the songs are guitar-heavy, the instrumentation is multidimensional. Each track is handled delicately, yet the complexity of the rhythms and vocals is gorgeous. Lyrically, there is a balance of romance and snark; a woman surrenders her “night vision” after having her heart broken under the moonlight on “Sugar and Plastic,” while the track “Spaced Out Orbit” conjures fond memories of being in love with a metaphoric walk on the moon, the proverbial cloud nine. Thao and Mirah seems like a passion project for the two, but we can only hope it’s not a one-off endeavor. ’Cause whatever it is, we’d like some more. [KATHY IANDOLI] // BUST / 91

the guide MUSIC frenetic beats, lasers, alarms, hip-hop samples, drums, drums, and more drums. Strident guitar alternates with the slippery synthetic wail of digital elements, creating a bombastic style of headbanger electronica similar to fellow English rocktronic act Muse. More raw rock ’n’ roll than the heavily produced work of biggies like Justice and Daft Punk, the album maintains an element of glam-pop drama that strongly juxtaposes quiet ballads like “Broken Arms.” This is big, loud music that simultaneously drives listeners to dance and hold their heads air raid– style while running for sonic cover. That is to say, this album is compelling, and while it does offend me, yeah, that actually seems to be the point. [KATIE BAIN]

EISLEY The Valley (Equal Vision) Eisley doesn’t mess around with embellishments. Like its two prior albums, the latest effort from this family act out of Tyler, TX, is straightforward in-

die pop, plain and simple. With dramatic ballads and bitter lady vocals— a moodier, broodier Belly (remember them?)—Eisley knows its strengths, playing up pretty harmonies, personal lyrics, pregnant pauses, and theatrical buildups. Stacy and Sherri Dupree effortlessly switch between their strong, milky-headed voices and sugary sweet falsettos. Sibling bandmates Chauntelle, Garron, and Weston echo the mood swings, changing cleanly between dark minor keys and bright, pretty melodies on strings, guitar, bass, and drums. On the album’s title track, a Dupree sister wails, “Take me home/Till everything is fine” over lavish layers of oohs and ahs. Like any finely crafted pop ditty, the song calmly builds on itself before releasing just the right amount of indie-kid angst. [ERIN GRIFFITH]

sound with a strong undercurrent of sadness. On their sophomore effort, Too Young to Be in Love, the band keeps rocking its boy-fronted, ’60s-girlgroup punky pop, but now real ladies back lead vocalist Seth Bogart as he croons about his love for guys good, bad, and ugly. It’s a sob party dressed up as a sock hop, but the steady beat of the drums and the ladies’ sugarysweet melodies keep the dancers from falling into a fetal position of self-pity. Because when love doesn’t drive up in that cherry-red Pontiac Firebird, the malted is warm, and the burger and fries are cold, just slip on that leather jacket and hit the jukebox with your fist. Hunx and His Punx will make it all better. [PETER LANDAU]

HUNX AND HIS PUNX Too Young to Be in Love (Hardly Art)

Minneapolis is cold, and bands from that frozen northland have a history of burrowing themselves into nice cozy fuzz. Is/Is is no exception, and on their This Happening EP, the trio comes off as

San Francisco–based Hunx and His Punx sport a retro-rock

IS/IS This Happening (Guilt Ridden Pop)

nothing so much as Hüsker Dü’s English nieces. Their style of rock calmly floats that watery divide between raucous, overwhelming noise and placid beauty. They called it shoegaze once upon a time. What is beyond argument is that Is/Is has nailed it, regardless of what you call it. The four songs on This Happening wash over and consume. Cold, echoing waves of beauty on the opener, “So Long,” climax in wistful wails, and “Pretty Girl” tries on menacingly fuzzy bass like a tattered black dress, while still sounding as lovely as the title would imply. [TOM FORGET]

J.C. SATÀN Sick of Love (Slovenly) On J.C. Satàn’s debut LP, the French and Italian rockers ooze distortion-heavy, drug-fueled psychedelic melodies. Bridging the gap between the Velvet Underground, the Jesus and Mary Chain, and the Black Lips, Sick of Love is a well-crafted record that in some darker, more twisted parallel universe could be the alternative soundtrack to


THE KONKI DUET This France-based trio is refined, excitable, and a little bit Stereolab. There’s violin, electronics, elegance, and mischief—like lounging around on an early summer evening, just past the stifling-heat stage. “[We] like to eat chocolate, drink champagne, watch TV, and enjoy sex with friends,” they claim. Don’t we all? Their sound is playful, like splatter paint.

PETER PARKER This Glasgow group plays uber-cool power pop. It straddles the line between Sleater-Kinney and Cadallaca very nicely. The vocals are clipped, the beats are sharp, and the dancing is sweetly self-conscious. There’s tension, oh yes, and there are grievances, believe it. There’s also repetition and some harsh riffs to lose yourself in. Ace.

Think: Electrelane, Lizzy Mercier Descloux, Anna Calvi Peng! factor: 8 Pong factor: 3

Think: Lungleg, Sleater-Kinney, Joan Jett “Rebel Girl”: 9 “Rebel Rebel”: 4

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KARAOCAKE Camille Chambon is the mastermind behind this French project. “One two three four five six seven days and it’s over/I fucked up big time/You screwed up everything/You screwed up everything/You screwed up everything,” the sad girl intones dolefully over a jaunty, jittery coldwave Casio beat. Electronic notes fizz and sparkle, the music is luminescent and upbeat, but the girl doesn’t care. She is inconsolable.

NEONATES This L.A. trio creates note-perfect discordance. One girl sings and hiccups. Guitars attempt to hide themselves in awkward corners and fail miserably. The drumming is spry and brisk. Melodies are punctuated by stops, starts, and the odd burst of beautifully askew agitation—postpre–riot grrrl, if you get my drift. They should be on tour supporting the Raincoats, for sure.

Think: George Pringle, El Perro Del Mar, Cristina Chill factor: 9 Chill-out factor: 1

Think: Ludus, Trash Kit, Petticoats Kleenex (the band): 10 Kleenex (the facial tissue): 0


The best girl bands you’ve never heard of [BY EVERETT TRUE]

MUSIC Yellow Submarine. Arthur Satàn (formerly of the Meatards) and co-vocalist Paula H. open the album with “Odyssey of Love,” an upbeat tune about the beginning of something—a relationship, maybe, but more likely an acid and sexfueled bender. On “Your Place,” Paula sings, “Wake up late in the morning/ In a bed full of stories/There’s no love, no romance/Just a jerk in a coma.” The standout “Morning After Love” features a catchy guitar riff and beautiful reverb-drenched harmonies that evoke the Raveonettes. [ANNA BLUMENTHAL]

THE KILLS Blood Pressures (Domino) Imagine the Kills’ signature swagger blown up to Godzilla-like proportions, and you’ve got their fourth album, Blood Pressures, pegged. Seriously, the force of these jams could annihilate a city block—guitars howl, feedback shudders, and synthetic beats pound hard enough to crumble concrete. Even the vocals come from a monstrous place; Alison Mosshart and Jamie Hince throw lines at each other like punches before syncing up for some rich harmonies. Of course, the duo hasn’t totally abandoned their minimal past. Midnight Boom’s angular vibe is in full effect on “Future Starts Now” and “DNA,” but with an emotional heft the duo has only hinted at before. Mid-tempo jams “Wild Charms” and “Baby Says” give all that boom the perfect wistful edge. Dear Alison and Jamie: you’ve convinced us, bigger is better. Now keep making records forever, OK? [MOLLIE WELLS]

OH LAND Oh Land (Epic) Oh my, Oh Land! Danish chanteuse Nanna Øland Fabricius may be relatively new to the States’ music scene, but with songs this dazzling (and fans ranging from Pharrell to, no joke, the Crown Prince of Denmark) she’s sure to stay a while. Think Robyn’s electropop mixed with the playful sass of Lily Allen; Fabricius’ major label debut is a dance-floor soundscape of glitchy beats, orchestral builds, and vocals

warm enough to melt a Midwestern winter. Opener “Perfection” creeps in like piercing hip-hop, prepping you for the summery swing of “Sun of a Gun.” And though its best tracks are straight-up pop, Oh Land rarely feels bubblegum. For every glittering melody, there’s a darkness beneath the surface, threading the album with a mood way more intense than your everyday radio jam. Welcome, Oh Land. We’re thrilled to meet you. [MOLLIE WELLS]

OKKERVIL RIVER I Am Very Far (Jagjaguwar) An Okkervil River album is much more than just a collection of vocaldriven rock songs. For someone who’s hooked on their ADD instrumentation and wounded ramblings, this band provides a remedy for a sort of awkward discontent that obsessive music fans can bond over. Will Sheff’s eloquent lyrics on I Am Very Far, Okkervil’s first album in three years, beg to be memorized and spit back into a card or emailed to someone who’s just hurt you bad. “Hanging From a Hit” is like an emotional sock to the stomach when Sheff sings, “And the waves are wide/But the wind has died without him.” Useful as something beautiful to give to the one you love, and as something to immerse yourself in when that love goes to shit, this album has got your back. [KELLY MCCLURE]

THE PAINS OF BEING PURE AT HEART Belong (Slumberland) If you were that kid at the school dance who sat on the sidelines while everyone paired up, the songs on the Pains of Being Pure at Heart’s first LP sympathetically stood by you. The message on their followup, Belong, is that it’s more than OK to not fit in. So just walk out the gym door and flip everyone off as you go. Every song is a refined, glossy hit. Produced by the legendary Flood, the title track explodes with massive Smashing Pumpkins–style distortion, while “Strange” combines Peggy Wang’s wall-of-sound keys with a shimmering Lush-esque wash of guitars. All share Kip Berman’s sweetly twee vocals. Are // BUST / 93

the guide MUSIC those tiny exploding hearts circling his head as he sings, “I could tell you’re strange like me/And our dreams are coming true”? Highly likely. But one thing is clear: the wallflowers have won. [JEN HAZEN]

PANDA BEAR Tomboy (Paw Tracks) Tomboy, the fourth solo release by Animal Collective’s Noah Lennox, was recorded in Portugal where he lives, and it’s a fuzzy, textured blanket of sound that is repetitive in the best possible way. The trance-inducing tracks on this album have been released as singles over the past six months— mixed differently, however, than how they’re presented on this full-length. Like watching static on a television

while chugging down some box wine in the dark, you can feel your blood pressure lowering. Relying heavily on looped vocals and synthesizers, Lennox seems to focus less on song structure and lyrics (is he repeating “Say it’s a cow” on the song “Slow Motion?”) and more on atmosphere. I wouldn’t reach for this album while pre-gaming for a night out, but it’s perfect for pregaming for a night in. [KELLY MCCLURE]

PETER BJORN AND JOHN Gimme Some (Columbia) Peter Bjorn and John might be best known for “Young Folks,” the Swedish rock trio’s 2007 breakout hit, but it’s been 10 years since their self-titled debut, so they’re not exactly young folks anymore. And on Gimme

{heavy rotation}

dum dum girls HE GETS ME HIGH (Sub Pop) L.A.-BASED Dum Dum Girls’ four-track EP He Gets Me High is a hard-charging follow-up to their 2010 debut LP, I Will Be. The reigning queens of lo-fi garage continue to perfect their trademark hazy, buzzsaw, kinda goth doo-wop sound. Produced by lead vocalist Dee Dee, Richard Gottehrer (who wrote “My Boyfriend’s Back”—yeah, that one), and Sune Rose Wagner (Raveonettes), this record is equal parts Ronettes, Karen O, and the Seeds. The opener, “Wrong Feels Right,” is a dreamy, unrequited love letter written by a badass gang girl. So tough, yet still tender. Dee Dee’s hot, husky vocals mix perfectly with pops of snare and sunny jangling guitars. For the final track, Dum Dum Girls had the guts to cover a classic Smiths song, “There Is a Light That Never Goes Out,” which is pretty admirable. And the fact that they nailed it? Extraordinary. [JEN HAZEN]

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Some, the group’s fourth proper album, the maturity shows. It’s the first release for which the band used an outside producer (Per Sunding, known for his work with the Cardigans), and their signature pop-punk sounds more polished as a result. “I Know You Don’t Love Me” chugs along admirably with the Neu!-inspired motorik drumming and jangly guitar lines that Stereolab popularized. And “Second Chance” has more hooks than a California Closet. But their sound hasn’t been polished too much—PB&J’s power pop still doesn’t stick to the roof of your mouth, and the crusts are enjoyably removed. [DYLAN STABLEFORD]

ROYAL THUNDER Royal Thunder (Relapse) Like a steamy bowl of grits, this Atlanta trio’s eponymous debut warms the cockles. Without a hint of irony or freshman gimmicks, Royal Thunder has created a beautifully dark and rich psychedelic wonderland. OK, so there’s a creaky-door sound at the top of the bluesy “Sleeping Witch,” and by the looks of their YouTube videos, they play in the dark with only the drum kit lit up, but a little cinematic panache never hurt anybody. They succeed in painting a dramatic and creepy picture. Miny Parsonz’s haunting voice lures you into languid dirges and headbanging choruses. She’s very Grace Slick in her delivery and resonance, but substantially more swampy and menacing. The hit is obviously “Mouth on Fire,” but my favorite is the woeful “Grave Dance.” The guitar is downright pretty, and the double-tracked vocals are intoxicating. [CRISTINA MARTINEZ]

SIN FANG Summer Echoes (Morr) Summer Echoes plays like a fond, sunlit memory shot on grainy film and only mostly remembered. Iceland’s Sin Fang is one man, Sindri Már Sigfússon, and this sophomore LP is a start-tofinish stunner on which he displays the same acid-trip indie-wizard acumen of acts like Panda Bear, Grizzly Bear, and Local Natives. For this effort, Sin Fang

assembles a full band of percussion, piano, guitar fuzz, bells, faraway voices, and lyrics diluted through a filter of haze into richly layered, psych-dream shoegaze. It is a smart, sensual thing, this album. Songs like “Slow Lights” and “Bruises” propel forward on gently clattering percussion, woozy distortion, and electronic pulse. Artfully produced, Summer Echoes captures that feeling of strong, strange longing for all those transcendent moments recently lived and already half-forgotten. [KATIE BAIN]

THOSE DANCING DAYS Daydreams and Nightmares (Wichita) Those Dancing Days makes me nostalgic. Not the music, though it has an old-timey ’80s feel. It’s the band’s name. It’s got that bittersweet tinge of melancholy. Not that this Swedish combo’s new album, Daydreams and Nightmares, is sad. It’s too poppy, too obsessed with surface, too reflective of another time, another place, to be bothered with the depth required for that emotion. And it’s safe. There’s a lot of strum-strum-la-dee-da, and none of it adds up to more than a cleanly produced, excruciatingly polite record. That doesn’t mean you’ll hate it or love it or be as indifferent to it as I am, but it would have been nice if Those Dancing Days remembered the days when lines were fiercely drawn between, say, rock and disco. [PETER LANDAU]

TUNE-YARDS whokill (4AD) Trading up her bedroom for a recording studio has allowed tUnE-yArDs’ sole band member Merrill Garbus to refine her playfully eclectic style on her sophomore release, w h o k i l l. The Oakland, CA–based musician refuses to be confined by genre. Picking up pieces from hip-hop, dub step, and sonically adventurous folk bands like the Microphones, Garbus weaves these melodies into her carefully crafted soulful repertoire. Whether it’s the doo-wop– meets–Afro-beat of “Doorstep” or the dizzying techno-lilt of “Bizness,” Garbus builds sonic walls of layered loops

the yes women


ALT-POP’S DYNAMO DAMES GET DOWN TO A WHOLE NEW SOUND IF YOU WERE a girl listening to music in the ’90s, it’s probably safe to assume that Yuka Honda and Petra Haden held places of honor in your CD collection. Producer and keyboardist Honda was one-half of the iconic quirky Japanese duo Cibo Matto—famous for their catchy grooves and raps about food—and vocalist/violinist Haden was a member of That Dog, a grungy, grrrl-powered pop band whose music paid homage to punk rock and crushes. Now, more than a decade after their first encounter, these awesome ladies have teamed up on a new musical project, If By Yes. The two collaborated across the continent—Honda lives in New York, Haden in L.A.—and the resulting self-titled debut (on Chimera Yuka Honda (left) and Petra Haden are If By Yes Music) is a lush, melodically ambient tapestry with experimental edges and Haden’s gorgeous, smooth-as-liquid vocals woven throughout. It’s got a timeless quality, which makes sense since it was inspired by nearly nine years of life transitions—relationships ending and beginning, friends getting ill something that can cut through your logic and really touch your heart, so I wanted and family members dying, musical projects flourishing and fading. I caught up to find something where we could really connect in that deeper level of music writing. We threw away a lot of songs that we both thought were great, but they with the artists to find out how their new beautiful sound came to be. were a little more like work as opposed to a personal journey. But when we go into some deeper place together, magic happens. Can you tell me the story of how you two met? Yuka Honda: I feel like we’ve had some magical way of meeting. I met her when we were just starting Cibo Matto and she was starting with That Dog, because indus- How did you eventually come up with lyrics for this album? try people thought maybe we would mesh. I think that we just said hello. But then PH: I would flip through magazines and books for words that just popped out at me. I discovered her solo music in Japan when I was hanging out with my friends who Sometimes I would even look at People magazine or National Geographic, books of powere really into her. So pretty much from the beginning of Cibo Matto, she was in my ems, or scary stories. If I was at my sister’s house, she has kids, so I’d flip through littlemind. We were in the same world, but we were far from each other physically. There kids’ books and jot down words I liked. Yuka had books on dreams, which I was reading was always an effort to reach out to each other, but it just didn’t seem so possible. because at that time, I was having really weird dreams. I would use my dreams and try to integrate them into the songs. Then, around 2002, you finally started collaborating. Petra Haden: Yes, I would stay with Yuka and write songs with her—just, like, After spending decades in the music industry, do you find it’s a struggle to really mellow. We’d make dinner and just jam. She would come up with the be taken seriously as a woman? bass lines of a song, and I would sit on her couch and write vocal melodies. YH: Yes, it’s difficult for people to see that my mind works like a producer’s. If I walk into Then once I had something, I’d say, “OK, I’m ready to record this part.” At the a studio with a guy, everybody thinks the guy is the producer and he knows the arrangetime, I was only concentrating on the melody, so I was just singing gibberish. ment and I am the singer. I want to encourage more women to do more audio engineerIt worked out really well, because once we started writing, we were on a roll. ing. Because women can definitely hear sound in a different way than men, and it’s a YH: Petra and I can sit down and just churn out songs, one after another, because world where women can really kick ass, but you don’t have to carry a big drum set. You we know what works with what, but it seems pointless to do it that way. Music is can just sit in a studio and turn a bunch of knobs and find what sounds good. [LISA HIX]

only to tear ’em down in the span of a three-minute song. She scales vocal mountains, alternating howls and whispers through tracks like “Gangsta” and “Killa.” And odd-beat rhythms are created as she harmonically fragments vocal, drum, and instrument samples— adding and subtracting sounds as she goes. [JULIE ALSOP]

KURT VILE Smoke Ring for My Halo (Matador) Kurt Vile’s Smoke Ring for My Halo may be a new album, yet its songs are anything but. For anyone with access to a decent collection of 1970s vinyl—partic-

ularly one with a soft-rock focus— Vile’s music sounds utterly familiar, and the influences abound. The wispy, reverberating acoustic guitar makes Nick Drake an easy reference point as Vile croons alongside cooing female vocals on “Baby’s Arms.” But his voice is more Tom Petty—with Vile’s space-filling band

the Violators playing the role of Petty’s Heartbreakers—or Thurston Moore, like on the punk-tinged “Puppet to the Man.” Vile, a former forklift operator from Philadelphia, isn’t alone in mining the past, even among contemporaries, which makes Smoke Ring for My Halo a modern affair. [DYLAN STABLEFORD] // BUST / 95

the guide MUSIC

The dudes are really floundering now. Vivian Girls sparked a whole flurry of gorgeous ennui-, sun-, and reverbdrenched femme-pop with their debut a few years back. Like the cool girl’s Ramones: everywhere you turned, it seemed that suddenly everyone was admitting to a lifelong infatuation with Ronnie Spector and hardcore punk and tattoos and kittens. Vivian Girls’ third album isn’t quite as distorted or spiky as Everything Goes Wrong or as minimal as their self-titled debut. But the harmonies are lush, the noise saturation is crushworthy, and the plaintive opener, “The Other Girls,” cries out and jangles like great lost N.Y.C. band Lotion—with a guitar solo! “Death” (featuring spoken word, like the Shangri-Las) is just plain disturbing; perhaps a little Courtney Love influence? (I’ll let you decide if I mean the former Hole singer or the Lois Maffeo–led Olympia dream-pop band of the same name.) It’s not Best

Coast. It’s not La Sera. It’s Vivian Girls. And the Vivian Girls are still cruising in top form, easy. [EVERETT TRUE]

WINELORD III (Bloat) In Winelord’s bio, the band jokingly describes themselves as abandoned children raised in the mountains by wolves, where they made music with twigs and only recently learned about electricity. Yeah, that sounds absurd, but after one listen to their second album, III, it’s almost believable. For the first song, “Come Go With Me,” the all-girl trio from Tucson, AZ, nukes their guitars and adds slick vocals in the same vein as the Donnas. Injecting some sarcasm on occasion—like asking, “Are we having fun yet?” on the splashy “Good Time”—Winelord barely takes a moment to calm down. This album is not for the faint of heart, so if you’re looking for something more subtle, then skip “Mai Tai,” “Salt Mines,” and almost every other track on III. Raised in the mountains or

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not, these sirens are clearly wolves in sheep’s clothing. [KATHY IANDOLI]

WYE OAK Civilian (Merge) In the ’90s, bands like Low were temporarily content with the label of slowcore to describe their melodic, darkdazed, American music—complete with frequent outbursts of scrunchy guitar and reverb crescendos. Now we label these bands as folk, an unreasonable classification for Wye Oak. On their third album, Civilian, the Baltimore-based duo hearkens back to the ’90s, defying their taxonomy. Songs with creative instrumentation and more complex arrangements emerge, creating a fuller sound than most twosomes. Wye Oak seems to have a kinship to another male/ female duo with Maryland roots: Ida. Yet missing from their repertoire is the overly artsy self-consciousness, allowing their more musically playful side to show, even amidst the lonely lyrics atmosphere. With hazy vocals reminis-

cent of Kim Deal combined with Victoria Legrand, Civilian is a successful niche-breaker. [APRIL WOLFE]

YELLE Safari Disco Club (Cooperative USA/ Downtown Music) It’s a step toward the mainstream, but Safari Disco Club, Yelle’s follow-up to 2007’s Pop-Up, features enough classic Yelle elements (Yellements?) to win over even the pickiest of fans. Yelle’s voice is still sugary sweet like Annie’s, her beats are still driving like Robyn’s, and her melodies are still infectious like Ace of Base. But where Pop-Up reveled in its sparse simplicity and straightforward song structures, Safari Disco Club does an about-face, introducing lush overlaps of synthesizers punctuated by dynamic breakdowns and buildups. The beats are more complex, the vocals are layered up, and the songs feel heavier. But then Yelle unloads one of her adorably bratty taunts, and you remember that underneath it all, it’s just damn good pop music. [ERIN GRIFFITH]


VIVIAN GIRLS Share the Joy (Polyvinyl)


EVENT PICS Partygoers show us their BUSTs

Evofem supplied the goods in the ladies’ room

U.K. sensation Eliza Doolittle stopped by after her show at Joe’s Pub

Early birds scooped up awesome goodie bags

Ladies pony up for a cocktail

sored the bar and attendees sipped our signature cocktail to get into the sexy spirit of the holiday. A huge thank you goes to our sponsor Evofem/Softcup who provided hairspray, fragrance, mints, mouthwash, condoms, and

more! Early birds scored a jam-packed goodie bag. And the night wouldn’t have been complete without tunes from the one and only Fuzzanova DJs who got everyone in the mood for the sexiest day of the year!






BUST brought sexy back with our February/March Issue release and Valentine’s Day party! We filled The Delancey in N.Y.C. to the brim with BUST fans and partygoers on February 10th. Tito’s vodka, our fave handmade spirit, spon-





A portion of all proceeds are donated to the fight against breast cancer. // BUST / 97


Trine Dyrholm

IN A BETTER WORLD Written and directed by Susanne Bier (Sony Pictures Classics)

[left to right] Shirley Henderson, Zoe Kazan, and Michelle Williams

MEEK’S CUTOFF Directed by Kelly Reichardt (Oscilloscope Laboratories) In director Kelly Reichardt’s fourth film, Meek’s Cutoff, the year is 1845, and three families traveling the Oregon Trail have hired garrulous frontier guide Stephen Meek (Bruce Greenwood) to escort them to the Willamette Valley. But as Meek leads the emigrants around in what seems like circles through miles of dry brush with no water in sight, it becomes clear that he may not have the expertise that he claims. The movie is short on action and dialogue, but Reichardt and cinematographer Chris Blauvelt maintain a mood of such intensity, it’s hard to believe Meek’s Cutoff ultimately consists of 104 minutes of people trudging slowly across the country. A scene in which a steep grade forces the pioneers to carefully lower their wagons by rope is incredibly stressful to watch, while the pitch-black nighttime shots induce a kind of suspense that wouldn’t be out of place in a thriller. Michelle Williams gives the standout performance—amid a formidable ensemble that includes Paul Dano, Shirley Henderson, and Zoe Kazan—as Emily Tetherow, a young wife who doesn’t let her palpable fear stop her from questioning Meek’s methods. But the film’s greatest strength is in its refusal to romanticize the era of Manifest Destiny. The beautiful landscape becomes absolutely terrifying as the characters realize they have no idea how far food or water lies in any direction. Their clothes are filthy, their fingernails are grimy, and their desperation is so real that one can’t help wondering how people even made it as far west as Kansas in the 19th century. [ELIZA THOMPSON] 98 / BUST // APR/MAY

Susanne Bier, director of 2007’s Things We Lost in the Fire, tells another gripping story about manhood, trauma, and violence in this Danish drama that just netted her the 2011 Oscar for Best Foreign Language Film. The story centers on Anton (Mikael Persbrandt), a doctor who works periodically at a turbulent African refugee camp while separated from his wife, Marianne (Trine Dyrholm), with whom he has two sons back home in Denmark. Anton’s elder son, Elias (Markus Rygaard), is bullied every day

AnnaSophia Robb

SOUL SURFER Directed by Sean McNamara (Film District) Soul Surfer is based on the true story of up-andcoming pro surfer Bethany Hamilton, whose promising career was interrupted by a freak shark attack in 2003, when she was only 13. Hamilton was practicing for a major competition when she lost her left arm to a 15-foot tiger shark off the North Shore of Kauai, HI. And though this dramatization is initially about that accident, its real focus is on how Hamilton conquered her injury to return to doing what she loves. The film opens with Hamilton (AnnaSophia Robb) riding breathtaking Hawaiian waves while a voiceover explains that the place she is most at home is in the water. Hamilton pretty much comes ashore only to join her parents (Helen Hunt and Dennis Quaid) for church, which

at school until he befriends the new kid, Christian (William Jøhnk Nielsen). When Christian brutally retaliates against their school’s biggest bully, the two boys begin a course of violence that sometimes feels like it’s veering into The Good Son territory. But thankfully, Bier, who collaborated on the screenplay with writer Anders Thomas Jensen, reins in the thrills just enough to weave a really dynamic narrative. Whether it’s the brutality in the refugee camp or the cruelty enacted in the septic halls of middle school, violence haunts every character in this tale. Anton strives to live and work ethically in Africa and at home, trying to patch things up with his wife and set a good example for his sons. But he is torn between two kinds of masculinity—one that demands he be gentle, fair, and forgiving, and one that goads him to punch any conflict square in the jaw. Bier and Jensen’s story asks numerous questions about how to be a decent person in a complicated world. But if you’re not in the mood to ponder such weighty matters, Bier’s impeccable editing and gorgeous shots of the Danish countryside will be enough to keep you enraptured. [ANNA BEAN]

in this case is a large white tent on an idyllic beach. This is a good introduction to Hamilton as Soul Surfer aims to present her: a happy, talented teenager whose life is dedicated to her sport, her family, and God. So while it may look like a mainstream Hollywood surf movie—with impressive camera work, big stars, and exhilarating shots of female athleticism—it’s also got a decidedly Christian message and a surprising amount of Scripture quoting for a secular release. But above all else, Soul Surfer is a great sports-comeback story. The crucial shark-attack scene is quick and intense, while scenes of Hamilton dealing with the aftermath are notable for their lack of hysterics and drama: Hamilton trying to tie a bathing suit, or on the kitchen floor, learning to make breakfast with her feet. And while some of the happy family stuff is enough to make one cringe, a discussion between Hamilton and her mom about what it is to be normal and beautiful is downright moving. At one point, Hamilton tells a tough competitor to “let the surfing do the talking.” And the same could be said for this movie—if you’re willing to tolerate some heavy-handed morality, the surfing is pretty amazing. Especially at the end, when you see footage of the real Bethany Hamilton at home in the water. [PHOEBE MAGEE]


the guide

the guide



A DAY IN THE LIFE OF A SMILING WOMAN: Complete Short Stories BY MARGARET DRABBLE (HOUGHTON MIFFLIN HARCOURT) MARGARET DRABBLE IS well-known to Anglophiles for the witty, incisive Brit-chick-lit she’s been writing since the 1960s. But even those who have never dabbled in Drabble will enjoy this slim volume of 14 short stories spanning the decades between 1966 and 2000. The protagonists, mostly women, are preoccupied with class, property, and decorum, but many of the personal dilemmas they face are timeless and universal. Extramarital affairs play a major role, as characters are forced to confront their morals (to knowingly abet someone else’s affair, as does the main character in “A Voyage to Cythera”? To re-engage in a tryst, like the longestranged exes in “Faithful Lovers”?). In 1974’s “A Success Story,” a playwright who’s earned respect in a man’s world acknowledges her latent desire to be appreciated for her feminine attributes. It begins with a quaint caveat: “This is a story about a woman. It couldn’t have been told a few years ago: perhaps even five years ago it couldn’t have been told. Perhaps it can’t really be told now.” The title story, possibly the most classically feminist of the bunch, follows a television journalist who appears to balance work and family with cheerful ease, but who finds her sense of control literally seeping out of her body via illness. With her snappy pacing and signature sense of irony, Drabble gives us a sense of the various feminist growing pains progressive women have experienced over the past 50 years, and articulates some of the frustrations and triumphs we’re still experiencing today. [CORRIE PIKUL]

APPETITE FOR REDUCTION: 125 Fast & Filling Low-Fat Vegan Recipes By Isa Chandra Moskowitz (Da Capo Lifelong Books) Veganism has been surging into the mainstream, largely due to claims that when one quits eating animal products, weight loss automatically follows. But as BUST’s “Nickel and Dined” columnist Isa Chandra Moskowitz attests in her latest vegan cookbook, Appetite for Reduction, even longtime herbivores sometimes need help making healthy choices. “I wrote this book for me!” she explains in her intro. “For years I was at a weight I was happy with, but eventually I began to pack on the pounds. I wrote a bunch of cookbooks—one dealing completely in cupcakes—and I was constantly surrounded by food.” Moskowitz started developing meatless recipes that were heavier on the veggies and lighter on the fat and calories, and her loss is definitely our gain. This collection is bursting with inventive, flavorful techniques for lightening up comfort-food favorites and

for making plants pop in new and exciting ways. My kitchen has been graced by her OMG oven-baked onion rings, tamarind BBQ tempeh and sweet potatoes with a side of savory polenta stuffing, masala baked tofu, spinach linguini with edamame pesto, scallion potato pancakes, sweet-salty maple baby carrots, chickpea piccata with a side of cauliflower-spiked mashed potatoes she adorably calls caulipots, and chili-lime–rubbed tofu over a citrusy dish of pasta de los Angeles—and they were all, remarkably, delicious. Unfortunately, the Buffalo tempeh and macaroni topped with Easy Breezy Cheezy sauce both fell short. But considering how many winners there were in the bunch, I fully intend to keep this party going until I’ve tried every last dish. [EMILY REMS]

BIG SEX LITTLE DEATH: A Memoir By Susie Bright (Seal Press) Infamous sexpert Susie Bright creates a sincere and honest portrait of her life in this memoir,

though fans hoping for details of her sex life or the inside scoop about On Our Backs, the porn mag she helped create, are likely to be disappointed. The majority of the story is about Bright’s early life and family; as a young kid, for example, Bright endures her mother’s mental illness and occasional attempts to murder her. She eventually escapes to live with her better-adjusted father in Los Angeles, but then she hits puberty and becomes involved with the political paper at her high school—which quickly leads her to join the International Socialists, drop out of high school, move to Detroit, and help unionize workers. A chunk of the book is devoted to this aspect of her life, and when her relationship with the IS turns sour and she transitions to working in a sex-toy store, the shift is abrupt, and the connection between these two phases of her activism—socialism and sex—is never really explored. There is a little about On Our Backs and the sex-positive movement toward the end, and it’s hard not to wish she had revealed more; she doesn’t even give us a coming-out story. But given that Bright’s the godmother of lesbian

erotica, perhaps she’s entitled to take a break from explaining the salacious details of her life and has earned the right to show the world that she cares about more than just sex. [GABI PAWELEC]

THE COSMOPOLITANS By Nadia Kalman (Livingston Press) In the opening of Nadia Kalman’s debut novel, the Greek Chorus–like Uncle Lev informs us that he’s climbed to his roof for one reason only: “to scratch out a pleasant, simple tune.” The Cosmopolitans begins with this allusion to Fiddler on the Roof and peaks with a Russian immigrant’s horrified reaction upon viewing the actual musical. The allusions are meant to be more than just an inside joke, however; the book is a modern retelling of the classic show. Kalman’s witty and nuanced prose examines the lives of Osip and Stalina Molochnik, Jewish Russian immigrants living in Stamford, CT, and their three very American daughters. Milla, the eldest, is a married, closeted lesbian; Yana, the middle child, is a feminist // BUST / 99


the guide


POETRY CORNER Karen Finneyfrock’s Ceremony for the Choking Ghost (Write Bloody Press) is a pang of properly processed emotional art. Oftentimes, I read poems that know where they’re going but don’t know what they are. But Finneyfrock’s work strikes the perfect tonal balance of humor, devastation, and real storytelling—never just using metaphor for metaphor’s sake. Right off the bat, she comes out swinging with “What Lot’s Wife Would Have Said (If She Wasn’t a Pillar of Salt),” a brilliant title for an equally powerful narrative. As you read deeper into the book, you go deeper into Finneyfrock’s personal life, learning about the death of her sister from cancer: “We sandpapered down to the meaning of necessary things./Among the condolence cards that jack-potted through/the mail slot daily was this one./‘I was so sorry to hear about Beth. I was also/surprised to find out that Karen isn’t married yet.’” And even more tenderly, we learn of her sister’s children: “The year Beth was in the hospital,/Wayne didn’t want Molly to turn three/listening to her mother’s heart machine thump/like a goldfish with no bowl, so we took her to the/Baltimore aquarium. I spent the day brightening/ my eyes when Molly looked at me.” Finneyfrock’s work is an oasis blooming in a world of mirages. [AMBER TAMBLYN]

caricature; Katya, the youngest, is a depressed addict. While every character in the Molochniks’ world is given an equal number of vignettes, the story focuses mainly on the three sisters. The women, unlike their parents, are completely assimilated, and the conflict between tradition and progress proves to be alternately heartbreaking and hilarious. The book explores Russian traditions, the Reform Judaism of Upper East Siders, and the Bengali customs of Yana’s husband, but the desperate and relatable attempts by parents and children to fulfill their dreams cross all cultures. [MOLLY LABELL]

HEAVEN’S BRIDE: The Unprintable Life of Ida C. Craddock, American Mystic, Scholar, Sexologist, Martyr, and Madwoman By Leigh Eric Schmidt (Basic Books) Imagine a patriarchal America dominated by Christian fundamentalist moral codes and draconian censorship laws, where women have few rights, masturbation is considered a dangerous public health hazard, and you could be arrested for owning a copy of this very magazine. Far from being merely 100 / BUST // APR/MAY

a dystopian fantasy, this was a reality in the United States a century ago. But we can thank the liberal feminist writer and scholar Ida C. Craddock for helping to turn the tide for free speech and women’s rights. This well-written, illustrated biography by Princeton professor Leigh Schmidt explores Craddock’s iconoclastic life, from her doomed attempts to attend the University of Pennsylvania (though she aced the punishing entrance exams, UPenn wouldn’t admit women) to her career as pastor and founder of the Church of Yoga, where she worshiped the “Penis and Vagina of God.” Craddock publicly wrote about Tantric sex, foreplay, and the importance of women’s pleasure at a time when such subjects were criminally taboo. Eventually, she was brought to court and sentenced to prison on obscenity charges. Broke and despairing, she took her own life, but she left behind an inspiring legacy of fighting for sexual freedom. [RENATE ROBERTSON]

I TOTALLY MEANT TO DO THAT By Jane Borden (Broadway Books) Jane Borden was born and reared, not raised (as her

mother told her, “chickens are raised; children are reared”), in Greensboro, NC, and moved to New York after college. Her first book of comic essays chronicles this transition. Each of the three sections represents a phase of Borden’s life in the Big Apple and tracks the way she copes with her naïveté, her homesickness, and her inherent Southerness. Borden has a knack for metaphor: having suffered several bonks on the head, poles to the crotch, and myriad other punishments served on N.Y.C.’s sidewalks, she likens Manhattan’s many dangers to a “cartoon assassin.” And upon mention of a friend: “She lives in Wilson, a small eastern North Carolina town, which is actually pronounced ‘Wiltson’ (I think this is where all of the silent t’s go).” Borden’s stories captivate, particularly those in which she describes working for a company in the World Trade Center, tries to convince her Southern relatives that she’s nothing like Carrie Bradshaw, and debates with a friend over when, exactly, a person becomes a true New Yorker. Refreshingly, the one topic she avoids is love, which ironically makes her book easy to love. [WHITNEY DWIRE]

KISS & TELL: A Romantic Résumé, Ages 0 to 22 By MariNaomi (Harper Perennial) MariNaomi, a San Francisco–based graphic novelist, begins this illustrated saga of her love life with a short explanation of her parents’ conservative dating history, including her father’s courting of her very traditional Japanese mother. This is quickly followed by a scene in which a young MariNaomi agrees to play “You show me yours, I’ll show you mine” with a neighborhood boy in exchange for bubblegum. The book is divided into age-related sections, with each chapter focusing on a specific love interest, from elementary-school crushes to the formative loves of her teenage years. There is Jason, an aspiring model, convict, and the love of Mari’s life; Liam, an older guy who introduces Mari to a variety of drugs; and Frances, Mari’s longest love interest,

with whom Mari explores the kinkier sides of her sexuality. Interspersed throughout the book—which is drawn in a dark, sometimes humorous, sometimes sentimental style—is a short parallel narrative of the life of a butterfly, from larva to metamorphosis. Despite the clichéd metaphor, MariNaomi succeeds in documenting the genuine transformation of a confused young girl into a self-aware woman. She is honest about her mistakes—which are many, from dropping out of high school to manipulating Frances into threesomes and polyamory, despite her lover’s insecurities and reservations. Needless to say, her relationship with her parents was tense, but in writing she effectively shies away from a pity party or woe-is-me girlhood. Her frankness is what makes the book painfully and embarrassingly relatable. It’s a quick read but packed with wisdom and raw experience. [ERICA VARLESE]

QUIRK: Brain Science Makes Sense of Your Peculiar Personality By Hannah Holmes (Random House) You don’t have to be a neuroscientist or psychologist to find Quirk fascinating. Holmes, a journalist and author of three previous books on science, explores the complex origins of behavior and personality as if she were unpacking a juicy story. Holmes begins by asking, What exactly is personality? Where does it come from, and what is it made of? In search of answers, she embarks on a great journey of scientific discovery to understand things like neuroticism and extraversion, conscientiousness and openness. She talks to some of the top researchers in the field, tours labs where scientists are discovering that even mice have personalities, and that, really, in the fundamentals of personality, “Humans don’t have much more going on than mice do.” She also mines her own real-life experiences and interactions, interviewing and investigating her eccentric housemates as well as members of her family to discover that, in the wild, differences in personality lend


How did your Little House journey start? I was really reluctant to reread the books. I was worried they weren’t going to be as good as I remembered. And then coming across my copy of Little House in the Big Woods, I realized, “Oh, my gosh, it is as good!” I got really sucked into the books, and I thought the next step was to find out more. I love that The Wilder Life let me visit all the historical sites vicariously, but is there one Little House location that you would recommend Laura enthusiasts actually go to? The best place to really get the myth of Laura would be [her farmhouse] in Mansfield, MI. That’s where Pa’s fiddle is and all the old photographs, and you feel like you have a close, personal connection to Laura and the Ingalls family. But if you really want to inhabit the Little House books, the Ingalls Homestead [in De Smet, SD] is the best place. In the book, you mention that everything you love about being a girl, you learned from Laura. What did you mean by that? For me, it’s the whole thing of being able to run around and get dirty but you’re barefoot and in a dress. That’s the best of both worlds, man, and it’s not like there’s any kind of compromise, it just was. Did you regret anything about delving into the reality behind Laura’s fictional world? There were definitely some weird moments and some stumbling blocks. Like reading Laura’s Missouri Ruralist essays and realizing that I’m not sure if I would like her as a person, at least in her older age. They were a little dull, and they had a know-it-all tone to them. The more I went in, the more I realized that Laura’s world is kind of this constructed thing, and I was able to see it for what it is, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t still love it.

little house, big love


WENDY MCCLURE SHEDS NEW LIGHT ON LAURA INGALLS IN THE WILDER LIFE FINDING SOME SERIOUS joy in the haystack-sliding, horseback-riding, wildfire-fighting adventures of Laura Ingalls is a pretty common young-girl experience. There’s just something about the Little House on the Prairie books that captivates the imagination and makes pioneer living seem like a homesteading hootenanny as opposed to the scary, treacherous experience it probably often was. When BUST’s “Pop Tart” columnist Wendy McClure reread the series as an adult, she found that she was just as enthralled the second time around. But instead of dropping her obsession when the last page was turned, she decided to take her Little House love to the next level. In her new book, The Wilder Life: My Adventures in the Lost World of Little House on the Prairie (Riverhead Books), she visits all the locations the Ingalls family trekked to, from the Big Woods to the Little Town, writing about her adventures— like discovering hard-core fan groups online, churning butter, and bunking in a mock covered wagon—with her typically keen sense of introspection and humor. We sat down over coffee and dorked out about all things Little House including vanity cakes, Pa’s fiddle, and whether or not little Half-Pint was a feminist.

A lot of people consider Laura to be a feminist, and while I sensed an undercurrent of feminism in the series, there are instances that made me think otherwise. What’s your take? I’m always thinking, Is she a feminist, or is that the spirit of the West? Is it the fact that she’s got Pa’s blood in her and doesn’t want to be held down? What worries me when I think about it is the implication that being feminist is a compliment you give to a woman whom you think is cool and outspoken and it’s,, it’s also a point of view. I like to think of the Laura in the books as a feminist, but in real life, it was probably a much more complicated story. Going on these Little House adventures, you realized your forays were a way to deal with losing your mom. Can you talk about that connection? It wasn’t really an obvious one. She wasn’t into the books or anything; I don’t even know if she read them. I think it was more me wanting to return to a time in my life when she was always there. I’ve realized that in a way, I was visiting my own childhood, even as I was going through the steps of someone else’s. In the book, you mention making things from Barbara M. Walker’s The Little House Cookbook. Did you feel like re-creating the Ingalls’ favorite foods was a direct way into Laura’s world? Yeah, there is that little bit of time travel. Because I wanted to know: what did vanity cakes taste like, and what did the maple sugar in the snow taste like? I don’t know if I’m ever going to make salt pork again, but I might can some stuff for fun. [LISA BUTTERWORTH] // BUST / 101

the guide themselves to survival skills. Fittingly, Quirk celebrates the uniqueness of the individual, asserting the “magical powers” of diversity and personality. Holmes’ engaging writing is at once amusing and informative and allows her to easily convey even the most complex theories and ideas clearly within the text. [EMMA CLAIRE GOODMAN]

READING WOMEN: How the Great Books of Feminism Changed My Life By Stephanie Staal (PublicAffairs) When Stephanie Staal first read The Feminine Mystique, she was an undergraduate at Barnard in the early 1990s. When she read it again a decade later, she was a wife and mother straining to make sense of those roles. Whereas she’d first seen the book as a relic of the outdated 1950s housewife, now—in a life that involved doing the majority of chores despite a stated desire by herself and her husband for domestic parity—Staal was shocked that she identified with those formerly alien housewives. “I may have still called myself a feminist,” Staal writes, “but I was no longer sure what that meant.” To find out, she journeyed back to the point of origin, re-enrolling in the same “FemTexts” series of classes at Barnard that had forged her early identity as a feminist. Reading Women chronicles Staal’s close readings of the class syllabus (Mary Wollstonecraft, Virginia Woolf, Simone de Beauvoir, Judith Butler, etc.) alongside the narrative of her non-academic life: entering marital counseling during a rough patch with her husband; struggling to be patient with her three-year-old daughter, Sylvia. “[T]he postmodern theory I would have analyzed with delight as a college coed was cause for vexation when viewed in the framework of my daily life,” Staal admits of the battle between the practical and the theoretical. The beauty of Reading Women is not in its easy answers, for there are none. Instead, it is in the way it will undoubtedly send readers scurrying to unearth their own college notebooks. [IRIS BLASI] 102 / BUST // APR/MAY

ROSE: Love in Violent Times By Inga Muscio (Seven Stories Press) I read Inga Muscio’s cult classic, Cunt, in one feverish sitting, and the rare viewpoint she held on womanhood and the fire with which she wrote of her experiences forever changed my whole perspective. In her latest work, Rose: Love in Violent Times, Muscio delves into the culture of violence in which we live. She argues that we exist in a constant state of indoctrinated entitlement, which breeds both active and passive violence, the latter of which manifests in our daily lives when we gossip, use words with inherent value judgments, or rashly form opinions without examining our biases. Yes, reconceptualizing the very way we see ourselves in relation to the world is crucial to a future with fewer wars, poverty, and sexual abuse. But rather than focusing on the facts, Rose largely consists of generalized rants about the government, Wal-Mart, rape, and the military, none of which succeed in being very eye-opening. Rose is supposed to incite rage and inspire upheaval, but the only elements of the book I found infuriating were the loosely formulated arguments lacking factual basis, the quotes from Wikipedia, and the painfully casual tone of Muscio’s writing. If you read Cunt years ago and are hungry again for Muscio’s haphazardly endearing radical worldview, I recommend just reading Cunt again. [GINA MARIE VASOLI]

ROSEANNEARCHY: Dispatches From the Nut Farm By Roseanne Barr (Gallery) Ever since she was a young girl—talking to God, whom she created in her own image in the mirror, and feeling perhaps a little overconfident from her family’s supportive hype—Roseanne Barr knew she was destined for big things. This book of essays is part memoir (there are stories of her youth growing up Jewish in Mormon Utah) and part manifesto (on life, sex, politics, and religion). There are also occasional recipes, bits of advice, and a

geek chic DIY FOR NERDS

WORLD OF GEEKCRAFT: Step-by-Step Instructions for 25 Super-Cool Craft Projects, by Susan Beal (Chronicle Books), offers creative ideas at easy, intermediate, and “warp speed” advanced levels. Handstitch a tribute to the classic Oregon Trail game, preserve your favorite book with a handmade robot cover, or assemble delicate gears into a steampunk watch pendant. Each project comes with clear, easy-to-follow instructions, whether you fancy the idea of a needlepoint tribute to the Mario Brothers or a Harry Potter costume for your favorite toddler. Jeff Potter’s COOKING FOR GEEKS: Real Science, Great Hacks, and Good Food (O’Reilly Media) is more of a manual of the why and what of cook-

self-penned obituary. Over the course of her career as a comic, talk-show host, and iconic sitcom mom, Roseanne was perceived as everything from working-class hero to national disgrace. This is the story of where she is now: approaching 60, angry all the time (as she thinks everybody ought to be), and so very pleased that the troubles of marriage and parenting are over. It’s also the story of that which came before—early days of stand-up and cocktail-waitressing while volunteering at a feminist collective, her failed marriages, and plenty of mostly unsuccessful diets. She talks as openly about mistakes she’s made (her rendition of the national anthem) as she does of her remarkable success, all the while offering sassy solutions for social issues (put birth control

ing than it is the how (there’s a whole section devoted to different kinds of leaveners!). There are recipes for such basics as butternut squash soup, poached salmon, and bacon-wrapped scallops, but the real fun of this book is in the way it approaches cooking from the perspective of a hacker: Potter, for example, suggests baking brownies in a scooped-out orange rind for added flavor, nutrients, and moisture—which, deliciously, gives them the texture of a molten chocolate cake. The truly geeky, however, should probably head straight for THE STAR WARS CRAFT BOOK by Bonnie Burton (LucasBooks). Projects include an Imperial Walker Robot planter, an Admiral Ackbar paper-bag puppet, and huggable plushie versions of just about every creature in the franchise. Most of the projects detailed are easy to complete, even for novice crafters, and the preface provides a handy list of items to stock up on before embarking on your great adventure. The crafts are divided into Puppetry, Home Décor, Holiday Crafts, Nature & Science Crafts, Wearable Crafts, and a fun little category called Express Yourself, wherein you will find instructions on how to make a Bossk bean portrait or a mounted Acklay head. May the crafting force be with you! [EMMA CLAIRE GOODMAN]

in the water for five years as a way to curb population growth). And though she is as caustic as ever, she writes with such world-weary honesty and feminist wit that most punch lines feel like a high-five. [CHRISTINE FEMIA]

SWEET VALLEY CONFIDENTIAL: Ten Years Later By Francine Pascal (St. Martin’s Press) Since it launched in 1983, Francine Pascal’s popular Sweet Valley High series has produced sequels and spin-offs as recently as the early aughts. For those of us who grew up with the original series, however, Sweet Valley Confidential promises a trip back to the early days, when Elizabeth and Jes-

sica Wakefield ruled the Sweet Valley High social scene with an eclectic and ever-growing group of friends. Sadly, there is nothing nostalgic about this book; when it opens, it is 10 years after the twins graduated high school, and they could not be farther apart: while Jessica is home in Sweet Valley, engaged to a surprising new lover, Elizabeth lives in New York. Years of sharing everything have taken a toll, and thanks to a betrayal (it’s huge), the twins haven’t spoken in months. Elizabeth and Jessica grapple with their individual lives and the absence of their other halves, until one twin hatches a reunion scheme—but the schemer is not the one you’d expect, and the reunion is anything but sunny. In retrospect, what was so special about the original teen books was that they gave us strong female characters and put them and their friendships in the foreground. In this book, however, the twins’ heartache and angst revolve entirely around their problems with men. Those friends we followed alongside the twins are peppered haphazardly throughout this novel; a longtime character is killed off like an afterthought. The most interesting development is each twin’s transformation into someone more like the other. Still, the twins we meet here are not worthy of the girls we knew in high school. [LAURIE ANN CEDILNIK]

THE UNCOUPLING: A Novel By Meg Wolitzer (Riverhead) Imagine you stopped wanting sex. Forever. Imagine waking up, as if from a long delusion, to the realization that it took effort to have sex with your husband; or that your first love, which a second ago seemed enormous, was never going to last; or that your promiscuity was going to look slightly pathetic when you were older. These thoughts, borne on a cold wind, overtake English teacher Dory Lang, her daughter Willa, her friend and coworker Leanne Bannerjee, and all the other students and teachers at Eleanor Roosevelt High School in suburban Stellar Plains, NJ. The great uncoupling, as it were, begins shortly after a new drama teach-

er comes to the school to mount a production of Lysistrata. Unlike the women of Aristophanes’ play (who stop having sex with their men as protest against the war), the women of The Uncoupling don’t know what’s caused them to lose all desire, and each couple grapples with the problem in their own way (in the case of the Langs, with a Snuggie-like blanket built for two). What’s great about Wolitzer is that she’s neither too flip nor too serious about sex; The Uncoupling is hilarious, but the stakes are deeply felt— perhaps because the world of Stellar Plains is so vividly realized. (There is a running gag about a high-school couple who got pregnant and accidentally named the baby Trivet; there is the Langs’ Labrador, the only character to remain equanimous, “who had resolved the potential problem of loss of desire by lying curved on the front hall rug each day and licking the brambles of her underside until she was soaked and zonked.”) Wolitzer robs her characters of sex in order to explore what an essential, messy, needful role it plays in our lives. [PRIYA JAIN]

other meaning: fate. “And we might argue,” the sisters say, “that we are not fated to do anything, that we have chosen everything in our lives, that there is no such thing as destiny. And we would be lying.” As each sister deals with unexpected plotlines, the book’s narration shifts from being one shared voice to the stories of their separate dramas, pushing each sister to come into her own strong, engaging character. [SARAH NORRIS]

THE YEAR WE LEFT HOME: A Novel By Jean Thompson (Simon & Schuster) Jean Thompson’s revelatory short-story collection Who Do You Love was a finalist for the National Book Award, and 10 years ago, I read the whole thing with a pen, underlining passages so beautifully and darkly observed, I didn’t know what I wanted more: to get through the whole thing or to drag it out for as long as possible. She’s a hell of a writer, with descriptions as

sharp and true and bizarre as, “Keep Off The Grass, her smile said.” The wording isn’t fancy, that’s the kick of the thing, but Thompson’s close-tothe-ground details, in all of her fiction, are genius. This novel, her fifth, traces a middle-class, middle-of-the-road Midwestern family, the Ericksons, over a 30-year period starting in 1973, illuminating the extraordinary process of growing old by focusing on everything that’s ordinary. The viewpoints alternate, bouncing between, among others, Ryan, the not-exactlyprodigal son, who’s 18 at the book’s beginning, his two sisters, and their parents. There’s a fair amount of grimness: portraits of sloping-down marriages, slippery careers, unspoken disappointments, and lonesome stretches saved from melodrama by the pulls of normal, everyday life. In the same vein as Jonathan Franzen’s Freedom, The Year We Left Home unpacks the quotidian stories of a family with such mindfulness and attention, the result is both devastating and perfect. [SARAH NORRIS]

THE WEIRD SISTERS By Eleanor Brown (Amy Einhorn Books) In Eleanor Brown’s surprisingly addictive debut novel, a family patriarch’s die-hard enthusiasm for Shakespeare inspired him to name his three daughters after heroines of the late, great bard’s plays. Now all grown up, Rosalind (Rose), Bianca (Bean), and Cordelia (Cordy) are scattered across different states when their father calls them home to rural Ohio. Ostensibly, they return to care for their mother as she fights breast cancer, but the whole truth, of course, is more complicated. Though their adult lives have followed wildly different paths—Bean is an untethered party girl in New York, Rose plans to marry, and hippie-hearted Cordy is unexpectedly pregnant—they speak the same language. (In their family, for instance, “Fie, you slughead” means it’s time to get up.) The book’s title comes from Macbeth, but “weird” (or, more accurately, “wyrd”), bears an// BUST / 103

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sex files

Tonya Jone Miller stirs it up

foodie call A PHONE-SEX OPERATOR SATISFIES DESIRES FROM CULINARY TO CARNAL GOURMANDS HAVE BEEN fawning over “food porn”—close-up shots of gorgeous, glistening cuisine—since the birth of the Internet, but 35-year-old Tonya Jone Miller offers a slightly more literal interpretation. “Food is something that gives me a lot of pleasure,” she says. “It’s the thing I collect, memories of these amazing meals. So the idea of sharing that with people seemed so natural.” Miller is not a food blogger, however. She’s an actress and playwright who runs a phone-sex company (she prefers the term “aural courtesan”), Bay City Blues, from her home in Portland, OR. As an amateur cook and rabid gastronome, Miller decided to incorporate her love of food into her business: at the end of 2010, she added “foodie phone sex” to her services menu. “I’ve had [calls from] some food fetishists,” she says of her clientele.

“Some guys want me to crack eggs in my shoes and put them on and stuff like that.” But the foodie angle resonates deeper than specific food-related fantasies. “Talking about a good meal definitely excites me,” says Miller. “Depending on how big a foodie the person is, just hearing about a great meal leads to a very intense physical craving.” That kind of response is easily transformed into something more sexual. “[The idea] came from one of my clients saying, ‘You know what would be really hot? If you read a menu to me.’” Over the phone, she offers callers cooking demonstrations and step-bystep explanations of recipes like bananas foster, bacon-stuffed mushrooms, and dill-roasted salmon, complete with a helping of her “added spice.” The dirty talk obviously differs depending on the caller, but Miller says, “The way I


envisioned it is, if your boyfriend or girlfriend was cooking, let’s see how well they could follow a recipe while you were distracting them [sexually],” adding that the very act of cooking has some titillating overtones. “Why is somebody who can cook so sexy? It’s because they take some collection of raw ingredients, and they make something with their hands. I take that thing that they made with their hands…and I put it in my mouth,” she says with a laugh. “That’s an intimate, sexual thing.” Though most new callers have used the foodie angle to simply break the ice during a first-time phone-sex session, Miller’s favorite food call was from a guy earnestly looking to impress a date with his cooking. “We didn’t have phone sex!” she says. “He wanted me to walk him through [the recipe]. It was so cute.” [ERIN DEJESUS]

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sex files



There are two ways you can increase your comfort. The first is to realize that plenty of guys are actually reas-

sured when their wife or girlfriend can’t compare them with legions of guys they’ve known, and I do mean that biblically. The other option, and one I support, is to enlist your partner in a project of self-improvement. What guy wouldn’t love to be practiced on while his lover hones her erogenous skills? Bone up with books and videos about oral play and anything else you want to feel more competent doing, and ask him for feedback. This last part is extremely important for a couple of reasons. It lets you get even more reassurance from him and also helps you get sophisticated about the most important lover’s secret of all: that not all guys (or gals, or everybody else) like the same techniques, the same sensations, the same anything. And a sexually knowledgeable and competent person who is aware of this never gets tired of hearing about (or discovering) the specific details of her partner’s unique response. So, either he doesn’t want you to know much, or he’ll be thrilled to embark on a learning journey. Either way, you’re a winner, as far as your worry is concerned. Now just make sure you’re getting as much pleasure as you need, and there’ll be no more trouble in paradise!

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I recently found out that I have herpes. I know it’s not the end of the world, but I can’t help feeling like it’s the end of my love and sex life. I’m also experiencing guilt for having unprotected sex as well as that whole lossof-innocence thing that society imposes on girls/women. Can you give me any advice on how to think positively about my future? Feelin’ Like a Herpetrator



Welcome to the 20 percent or so of Americans with genital herpes (50 – 80 percent have oral herpes, which can also be transmitted to the genitals). Because this is a pretty common condition, much is known about herpes, and it will likely be easier to cope with if you get informed, especially since many people with herpes have figured out how to have satisfying sex lives and keep partners without herpes virus-free. The American Social Health Association runs a Herpes Hotline (919-361-8488)—give them a call, and take advantage of their knowledge and compassion—and its Web site,, includes a herpes FAQ page as well as a support-group locator. Our culture tends to react very differently to a virus that affects the genitals, so people who get a sexually transmitted bug often feel guiltier, “dirtier,” and more alone than those who get the flu. But in each case, microbes with no social agenda whatsoever hitch a ride with us, as they’ve been doing for eons. Please resist the temptation to blame yourself. And your sex life is not over in the least. Many couples in which one person has herpes manage just fine; barrier methods can help, as can knowing your body well enough to recognize prodrome symptoms (changes in sensation that happen during the pre-outbreak period when you’re likely to be contagious). You can also go on virus-suppressing meds. If you’re just looking for a bedroom romp, try any online dating site: disclose your status right up front, and look for partners who are compatible (just choose a screen name that doesn’t link back to you, for privacy’s sake). The biggest concern is other sexually transmitted conditions, including HIV, which can be easier to catch when one has herpes and doesn’t use protection. It may be too soon for you to imagine becoming 100 percent comfortable with your body, much less with condoms, gloves, and oral barriers, but it will be easier to handle the STD risk and the need for partner communication if you realize that you’re in charge of your body, you deserve sexual pleasure and connection, and you can do what it takes to live a healthy and sexual life, even in the company of this bug that happened to hitch a ride with you.

Caroll Queen C Q is i a staff t ff sexologist l i t att G Good d Vib Vibrations ti Got a sex or relationship question you need answered? Post it at


My man and I are in completely different points in our sexual history. He’s had more than 11 partners, and I’ve had 3 (counting him!). I feel so unsure of myself when we’re intimate because I’m inexperienced, especially when it comes to oral sex. I’m worried I can’t please him, though he assures me this is not the case. Is there anything I can do to help ease my distress and feel more sexually comfortable with my partner? Rompin’ Rookie



recipe for pleasure A GAL GETS OFF WITH HER NEIGHBORS WHILE GETTING HER BAKE ON BY LETTY JAMES “MIKE’S OUT BUYING the rest of the supplies,” my neighbor Adrian said as he tossed my coat aside. I laid out some recipes on his kitchen counter, and the air seemed to close in around me, thanks to his sultry presence. Last night, Adrian and Mike put on a show in their bedroom while I watched, and masturbated, from my own apartment. They saw me—and beckoned me over. When I obliged, we had drinks and a laugh, but I fled in embarrassment. Now I was back so we could bake some goodies for the neighborhood potluck. I pushed the hair out of my eyes and caught Adrian’s hot gaze. Before I could say anything, he kissed me. My pulse pounded as the kiss deepened, our tongues exploring. My fingers curled into his hair. I heard the soft thud of the butter he was holding hit the counter before his arms encircled me. His hands roamed over my back, sliding down to grab my ass and pull me against his bulging cock. Wrapping one leg around his, I groaned. “Did I miss something?” Mike’s voice startled me as he came through the door, and I pushed Adrian away, wiping at my kiss-wet mouth. “We’re baking,” Adrian said, sliding his hand down my arm, holding me still. Baking? I was boiling over! “Mike, look. I’m so sorry. I—” Mike held up a hand to stop my sputtering. “Sophie, we planned this. We’ve gotten tired of you hiding and jacking yourself off while you watch us. There comes a time when you just have to join the party. Looks like you’re ready.” He eyed my breasts, my nipples peaking against my tight T-shirt, and licked his lips. Reaching into the grocery sack he’d put on the counter, he handed each of us a beer. I held the cold bottle against my flaming cheek. The carbonation hissed as we twisted off the caps and clinked our bottles together. “To no secrets,” Mike toasted. Adrian put his finger against my lips as I opened them to say something. “Later, little one. It’s time to bake.” “I’m here to watch.” Mike grinned mischievously, making me giggle.

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“I’m here to help.” Adrian rubbed my shoulders and kissed the top of my head. “How am I going to get anything done with you two around?” I asked. “We’ll manage.” Adrian nuzzled my neck sending shivers down my spine. My knees felt wobbly, my panties wet with anticipation. I pushed the recipe card over to Mike, who directed me to crack two eggs into a bowl. I did so with shaking fingers. Adrian stood so close I could feel his cock brushing against my ass. “They look like breasts. Sunny-side up.” His hands slid around to cup my tits, making me gasp. “What’s next?” “I have to beat them,” my voice squeaked out. I pierced the yolks with a fork. Adrian squeezed my breasts through my shirt before sliding his warm hands underneath my bra. He cupped my bare breasts tweaking my nipples, then massaging the tender tissue. I sank against the counter and moaned. “Give me that,” demanded Mike, plucking the fork from my hand. He read the recipe aloud as Adrian followed his own interpretation. “Open jar of maraschinos, and drain can of crushed pineapple.” From behind, Adrian whipped off my shirt and bra, letting them fall to the floor. “Maraschinos opened. Hmm, cherries.” He played with my tight nipples as he ground into my ass. I laughed and pushed my bottom against him. “Gotta open the can,” announced Mike. Adrian undid the button on my jeans, slowly sliding down the zipper as heat surged through me. He pushed the denim and my panties off at the same time, then bit my ass, making me jump. “Mmm, juicy.” His fingers dipped into my cunt. “I can’t take this,” I moaned, doubled over with ecstasy against Adrian’s fucking fingers.

The microwave dinged. “Melted butter.” Mike’s voice floated around us. “We love butter. Don’t we, Soph?” Adrian’s other hand moved between my exposed cheeks to massage my tight, puckered hole. I gripped the edge of the counter, panting. Adrian slowly finger-fucked me, his palm hard against my clit, while one butter-coated digit gently pierced my asshole, just enough to bring me to the edge. “I’m going to come,” I gasped, pumping my hips. “Not yet,” Adrian commanded. “Open your eyes,” said Mike. He was kneeling, naked, and he captured my breast with his mouth, sucking me deep inside. I came then, hard and loud as the men urged me to new heights, murmuring words of encouragement, making me feel safe in my exposure. I fell against Mike as Adrian released his fingers from my cunt. Still needing to be filled, I lowered myself onto Mike’s cock, riding him hard and rubbing my clit as he sucked my tits. I came again as Mike shouted his release against my breasts. I looked up to see Adrian on his knees beside us, his jeans open, his butter-soaked hand pumping his cock. I put my hand over his, stroking the thick, beautiful muscle with him, sliding my fingers around his balls. He gave himself up to us as Mike reached between Adrian’s legs to finger his ass. I leaned over, Mike’s cock still firmly in me, and took Adrian in my mouth. I licked and sucked the sweet, buttery goodness off him until he came, deep in my throat, as he gently held my face. Mike was the first to speak after we sprawled together on the tile floor. “Damn, girl. If we can do that with pineapple cake, imagine what we can do with chocolate-chip banana bread.”

BUST (ISSN 1089-4713), No. 68, Apr/May, 2011. BUST is published bi-monthly in Feb/Mar, Apr/May, June/July, Aug/Sept, Oct/Nov, and Dec/Jan by BUST, Inc. 18 West 27th Street, 9th Floor, New York, NY, 10001. Printed in the U.S.A. Periodicals postage paid at New York, NY, and additional mailing offices. Subscription prices, payable in U.S. funds, are $19.95 for one year (6 issues). Additional postage: In Canada add $10 per year, and in all other foreign countries add $20 per year. POSTMASTER: Send address changes to BUST, P.O. BOX 16775, NORTH HOLLYWOOD, CA, 91615.



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needle lift? 60. Eat away 61. Cantina cooker 62. Realizes 63. Lightened (up) 64. Like some bookstores


Across 1. Bettie of pin-up fame 5. The Crucible setting 10. Running things in a bar 14. Margaret Atwood novel ___ and Crake 15. “Wanted: Dead or ___” 16. Nobel Peace Prize city 17. Parisian picnic place 18. Color-wheel display 19. At the summit of


20. “Stop telling me to serge” 23. Dance partner? 24. “Give it ___” 25. A Doll’s House playwright 28. Goodman, the King of Swing 31. Urban poetry reading, familiarly 32. George ___, “Seven Words You Can Never Say on Television” comedian 34. It may be high in the afternoon 37. “Have sex, and then craft a battle out of yarn” 40. Donna Summer hit “___ Works Hard for the Money” 41. Apprehension 42. “First, do no ___” 43. “Smart” one 44. Cult teen magazine that ended publication in 1996 45. Censorship-fighting org. 47. Barbara of I Dream of Jeannie 49. “Makes a lace version of the movie pass” 55. Hollywood Boulevard’s famous intersector 56. Summer TV offering 57. When tripled, the performers of “Gold Lion” 59. Mideast chief: Var.

1. Grammy category 2. “Well, aren’t you just ___ of sunshine!” 3. Greek sandwich 4. “I beg your pardon” 5. Squelched 6. Beside 7. Dryer detritus 8. December 24 and 31 9. Big butte 10. Comfortably warm 11. September bloom 12. Like a day when it’s hard to hold on to your hat 13. Soak (up) 21. Mafia boss 22. One-named Greek singer 25. Theories 26. Dull, dull, dull 27. Rice wine 28. Dance genre often performed on the street 29. Fraternal group 30. 2009 movie starring Daniel Day-Lewis as director Guido Contini 32. It gets a licking 33. “Voulez-vous coucher ___ moi ce soir?” 34. “Jabberwocky” opener 35. Canal zones? 36. General assembly? 38. Humdingers 39. Words of gratitude 43. Tailors, like a book 44. Blink of an eye 45. One Day At ___, hit sitcom of the 1970s and ’80s 46. “Shut up!” 47. Skills-sharpening piano piece 48. Ate 50. Hammock holder 51. Juno’s Greek counterpart 52. Cupid, to the Greeks 53. “Novocaine for the Soul” band 54. Scheherazade specialty 55. Pussy, for short 58. Hornswoggled // BUST / 115

the last laugh [BY ESTHER PEARL WATSON]

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issue 68  
issue 68  

issue 68, liv tyler food issue