March 18
What can I say? I’m not Irish, even on St. Patrick’s Day, so I spent yesterday evening, the 17th, with Jamie Tiampo, budding food writer and food photographer and a partner in Dell’anima, where we ate.
Jamie used to work in technology, but decided his real love was food, so he made a career change, something his wife — who works in finance or banking or something and clearly makes a good living — clearly supports. Jamie acknowledges that he’s a fortunate man.
We spent about four hours chatting — and eating grilled sweetbreads with celery root purée, lemon and capers; salad of chicories with Campari-honey dressing; tagliatella alla bolognese risotto alla pilota (chef Gabriel Thompson’s specialty) with housemade sausage, salumi and pecorino romano; a special ricotta-stuffed ravioli that wasn’t on the menu but that Jamie loves, and he’s an owner; chicken al diavolo with roasted sweet potato and chicken sugo; and barramundi with spring onions, Parmigiano brodo and saba (grape must reduction) — about politics and food and so on. So I sent him home late to pack for his trip the next day to New Orleans (some sort of gumbo expedition associated with the IACP).
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