Zoë Stagg

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Ruth Reichl, food writer whose books should be read by all, tweets her food. But it’s not the “Double Double Animal-Style NOMNOM!!1!!” that those people requiring unfollowing, post. Her food is the Garrison Keillor of vittles. Her eggs are always “softly scrambled” and her cheese is always “sharp.”

Color-drenched morning. Deer nibbling emerald grass. Ruby red sugar-tossed rhubarb. Sheep’s milk yogurt. Blood orange juice. Happy.

I wish someone would start an anti-@ruthreichl twitter. Mostly this person would have to follow me and transcribe what ends up passing for meals.

Mild skies, mix muffins lazily vegan-adapted, gummy & stuck to the paper; purple slug of grape jelly on the counter.

Her meals never contain realistic details like, “eaten out of the carton,” or “consumed quickly before it went bad,” or “stuffed into face standing in the corner so no one could see how gross it looked, plus BBQ sauce.”

This is quite a shame.

Pictured: Saturday night sushi ordered by trying to translate Japanese to Italian, aforementioned muffins from the recipe entitled “Conduit for Condiments” and one of two bunches of white asparagus, purchased from a stand beside the road last night, and waiting for Ms. Reichl to come over and show me how to fix them so they are worthy of a tweet.

(Though who needs Ruth when there’s a Toni in the house? “Toasted bread, fava or white bean spread, thin diagonal slices drizzled with olive oil and sprinkled with a touch of sea salt.”) YES.

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