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Josh Ozersky

The Supper Crust

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The Merchant of Anise: Elevating Palates, One Mustard Seed at a Time

Aaron Isaacson is a strange man. It’s not just the bizarre waxed moustache, which juts out from above his lip like a kind of spice-sniffing antenna, nor the oversized bald head on which it is the most prominent feature. Even more odd is his ardor for spices, about which he rhapsodizes, with a kind of fanatical abandon, to everyone he meets.

“Spice is the magic of food,” he said. “If you can’t use them, you can’t cook, and if you can’t cook, you can’t eat.” He calls himself Mr. Recipe and is, by nearly all accounts, the city’s top spice importer. His business, strictly speaking, amounts to selling seasonings to the city’s top chefs. Read More

Reality Bites

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The Truth About Brooklyn’s Overhyped, Undercooked Restaurant Scene

The food media, having little in the way of hard news to work with, traffics in trend stories, and these are never more appealing than during this season. Stories are bound to appear about this year’s genius chef plying his magic tweezers, or hyperbolic odes to the year’s “epic tasting menu.”

One thing you can expect every 2012 wrap-up to include, from now through New Year’s, is the annual tall tale about Brooklyn’s coming of age as a restaurant capital. It’s an irresistible story, bound to please Brooklynites and fool huckleberries in the hinterlands, and it has much-needed youthful sex appeal as well; food writers see Brooklyn as a gritty reboot of a story they long ago tired of telling about Manhattan. But here’s the thing: Brooklyn, taken as a restaurant city, sucks. Read More