It’s not really a meal, but I would revisit the night I made miniature pumpkin pies from scratch for the bad movie club at my college to pair with the bargain bin whiskey that I got an upperclassman to buy for us. We watched it with the Korean absurdist comedy, Attack the Gas Station, and by the end of it we were draped over our chairs sideways and forgetting that the word “rectangular” was real. It was one of the last times I ever got to hang out with my friend Paul, who drowned himself shortly after.
Probably Nanban: Japanese Soul Food, because Tim Anderson’s recipe for black garlic oil is my favorite (but is also quite messy).
OK, so I absolutely despise green bell peppers! That seems really childish, right? I hate them because they’re really just unripe red bell peppers, with a grassy, bland flavor that doesn’t express much of anything. They’re a waste of space and potential: the ripe ones are so much better, with a much more interesting and pleasantly sweet taste to them. I’d rather get my hit of bitterness from a good glass of beer.
The Rivington Street at NYC’s Murray’s Bagels on an everything bagel – smoked salmon and sable, cream cheese, thinly sliced onion, and tomato – eaten while walking around the Greenwich Village on a sunny fall morning.
I absolutely despise green bell peppers! I’d rather get my hit of bitterness from a good glass of beer
Pagoda Café in New Orleans’ 7th Ward is my favorite restaurant in the world, no contest. They serve pastries, sandwiches, and coffee and tea out of a converted Chinese laundromat, and I’ve spent many mornings there just hanging out in the garden with my husband, watching the neighbor’s chickens wander about. That simple “home base” feeling is what makes it special to me.
When cooking at work, I don’t listen to much of anything, though I often sing music from The Phantom of the Opera and Steven Universe: I’m a campy musical theatre fiend. At home, I tend pull up the NieR soundtrack and its jazz arrangement albums on my laptop, or have my husband play the flute for me in the vicinity.
Every day, I make dinner for the staff at the restaurant where I work. Sometimes I plan it out so that it’s really special: I’ll make Korean hand-cut noodle soup or fried chicken with a bunch of sides. But sometimes I totally forget to cook something until maybe 45 minutes before our set time to eat, in which case I’ll make Vietnamese-style chicken curry! All it takes it a couple of cans of coconut milk, curry powder, fish sauce, chicken scraps, and any random stuff from the fridge.
Vietnamese-style coffee with coconut ice.
In The Holy Mountain (1973), a student protest is forcibly put down, and the violence is depicted with strawberry entrails and smashed watermelons. It’s beautifully disgusting.
Yukon Gold potato chips. Pretty much any potato chips, but those were the ultimate.
Banana leaves. They smell so incredible when steamed.
Sweetbreads are done poaching when they’re the same firmness as your breasts
When places serve a dish that is obviously not of the culture of anyone running the restaurant and spell its name incorrectly.
Karaage and a farmhouse ale.
Sweetbreads are done poaching when they’re the same firmness as your breasts.
To hear Soleil’s podcast, go to racistsandwich.com
The Gannet Q&A: Ben Reade – The co-founder of Edinburgh Food Studio on his cravings for fruit, memorable Christmas dinners at his granny's house and his most blissful meal
The Gannet Q&A: Will Goldfarb – The Bali-based dessert specialist on his favourite ever restaurant meal (which he had three times), a fascination with chickpeas and his ongoing struggle to avoid a particular fruit
The Gannet Q&A: Laura Freeman – The author of The Reading Cure on her greatest hits recipe compilation, the secret ingredient for the perfect breakfast and her restaurant pet hate
The Gannet Q&A: Stephen Toman – The chef at Ox in Belfast on "mindblowing" meals in Copenhagen, his grandmother's vegetable broth and the tune that gets things going in the kitchen