Where is this Quoz you speak of?

William Least Heat-Moon, whose 1983 travel odyssey "Blue Highways" holds a special place on the bookshelf in my heart, spoke at last weekend's Texas Book Festival. I was there to write about the cookbook authors and food writers who were speaking, but I sneaked into Heat-Moon's Sunday morning session and was, as expected, inspired and rejuvenated.

He talked a lot about writing his newest book, "Roads to Quoz." Quoz, he said, is the fecundity, or richness, of the unexpected, which in itself creates more fecundity in your life. What Quoz is exactly in *this* book? Well, I want that for your own discovery, he said. Travel does not merely change us, he said, but it transforms, expands and connects us.

He laments that today generation (who me?) has a lack of connection with anything beyond themselves. "We are so far from first things," he said.


The letter Q is a thing for him. In the book, he refers to his wife as "Q," and in the lecture on Sunday, he talked on a word I hadn't heard: querencia, a special place where a human has a special connection, where when they return, they are a different person. Querencia comes from the Spanish for "to love" (ie, quieres taco bell. mi querido.) and has meant in Texas culture the place where a Longhorn steer was born. One of the reasons I feel connected to Heat-Moon is because we share una querencia. He lives near Columbia, Mo., where I went to school and he, too, spent his youth in the Ozarks.

He lives in his querencia; I don't, but the wisdom he gains by relishing in the old growth and surrounding himself with slow-changing sameness I found inexplicably touching and reassuring. That there will always be my querencia and there will always be the road.

Eat, Memory, Garlic

Eat, Memory: The Sixth Sense

By GARY SHTEYNGART
Published: October 9, 2005

Growing up I dreamed of garlic the way some dream of bright city lights. I had smelled the forbidden vegetable (spice? herb?) during brief trips to Manhattan, roasted garlic coating the poorer sections of town, clinging to the peeling fire escapes, pouring down the tenement stoops to sucker-punch me in the nose, my 10-year-old mind reeling with flavor and summertime heat and the still inchoate idea that sex could somehow be linked with the digestive process (cf. "Seinfeld").

Read the rest here...

(I can see it now, a not-too-bald George (Jason Alexander) crawling out from under the ravenous bedsheet activities to get a bite of a sandwich he's hidden in the bedside stand.)

I read this food column in "Eat, Memory," a compilation of essays published in the New York Times Magazine under the editing of Amanda Hesser, the longtime Times food editor who is coming to the Texas Book Festival early next month.

The writing in this book is taking me back to Jacqui Banaszynski's class -- the last time I can remember my writing being so closely scrutinized -- where we had to sum up our stories and the stories we analyzed in one single solitary word.

In the exercises in her class, we had to get past that we were writing about dessert, for example, to realize our words more precisely represented tradition, comfort or adventure.

In this article, it's lust or maybe passion. But is this article by Tom Perrotta about finickiness or outright control? Is lying to your diners to preserve your perceived originality more about ego or pride?

Of course, we won't all agree, because the meaning we find says more about ourselves than the author's intention, but it's a fun game to play, especially when we're talking about food.

How do you say what you mean?

On my flight to San Francisco, when I was stuck without Internet, I started trolling my computer and found this AIM conversation between Troy and me from March 17, 2005. He was getting ready to graduate with a degree in journalism (I was supposed to graduate, too, but studying abroad for so long delayed me a semester), and we were buzzing along together in the height of our intellectual (and so clearly complicated and abstract) collegiate endeavors.

He died on June 23, 2006.

I’m really glad I saved this conversation.

Troy: i can't believe all this nick drake stuff is from late 60s and early 70s.
Addie: seriously?
A: gez...it never ceases to amaze me as to how much ground i still have to make up in the music world
T: yeah, it's etc.
12:20 AM
T: you can never say or know everything about anything.
A: tis is true
T: that is a general semantics fact.
A: but you can know more than average about something
A: looking into the things that interest you
T: whats average?
A: but that's such a sociological point...people think they're so fucking cool because they can quote every hemingway or hunter thomspon or the killers or you name the hot item of the moment
T: as long as they like it. then it probably is pretty fucking cool.
A: i guess by average i mean the basic definition of one thing.....you say fitzgerald, i say gatsby, you say franzen i say the corrections
A: who's they
T: i don't know you're the one who said it.
12:25 AM
A: wait, i don't think i said they
T: i have to go to sleep. nick drake is making me sleepy.
T: you said "people".
T: WHATever.
A: right, the rest of them
A: it's never ending
T: our language is self reflexive, so there's always another layer of abstraction that can be added. another picture of a picture of a picture.
A: oh jesus...i think we could go for hours on that
T: an abstraction of an abstraction
T: thats the point.
A: it's like modern art
T: we could go on for hours about anything and have not said everything.
T: or anything, for that matter.
A: jesus....it's like defining to be. it never works. but its fun to try
T: our language was created by people who thought the world was static and basically the same.
A: such fools
T: now we're stuck with a language that can't describe reality
A: but it's the closest thing we have, right?
T: which is really a process of continuous change.
T: well, we can start by throwing out the to be verbs.
A: right, but language is change, people is change, community is change...
A: as long as it is all changing, why not go with it
T: i don't get it. go with what? things arent changing. change is thinging. (sic)
A: the changes....good means bad, cool means weird...girl means boy....what was once totally right, now means wrong....what once seemed logical now seems strange...people once loved beef and now they think it's crazy
T: hahahaa.
12:30 AM
A: they loved milk and now reject it
T: they're all thinging.
A: people have lived off carbs for thousands of years and now it's wrong. who says that? i mean honestly
A: thinging...since when was that a verb???
T: it's so funny.
A: the cliche is that things are always changing, but you can't really reject that.
it comes in circles
T: what i reject is our language as a way to describe what's in my head. it simply doesn't work.
A: so what's the solution
T: i'm restricted to these silly words like silly.
A: hahaha
T: i'm living in a prison of culture.
A: but you can make these words mean what you mean
A: you can make "reasonable" mean what you want it to
T: i will leave you with this nick drake song.

A: and i'll leave you with that idea that the people who really understand you understand what you mean by the words you say...not what the dictionary defines them as, but what you mean them
T: but you will not understand what i mean because they mean different things in different contexts.
A: and each day it changes and i can only take a survey
T: i cannot transfer my thoughts to you. simply cannot be done.
A: i agree.
A: unfortunately
A: but that's the way life is...you cant' dwell on this as a miscommunication
⋯
12:35 AM
T: something must be done.

Gary Vaynerchuk is on purpose

I wonder if Gary Vaynerchuk and Wayne Dyer know each other. Both Dyer, the spiritual teacher and author, and GaryV, the host of Wine Library TV who I wrote about in today's paper, spend a lot of time using their natural ability to affect change on people.


Dyer does it outright with all those books and seminars (check him out if you don't know him), but Mr. Vaynerchuk uses, of all things, a wine blog in which he shouts at plastic wrestling figures, spits in a bucket and asks viewers about the last thing that made them smile. Don't groan. He means it. He wants to know where the love is at.

When you are achieving your destiny, Dyer calls it being "on purpose." Those Ask and It is Given folks says you are in vibrational harmony with the source. I got the essence of what people love about him. The sincerity, the passion, the heartfelt words. I've met few people who are so truly on purpose as him.

Garyvee is on path in his role as a uniter and motivator. We had such interesting conversations about media and community, two things that are merging so publicly and virtually with the explosion of social networking. But talking about that led us to talk about strengthening our real-life relationships with friends and family. What gives us true joy, what losses hurt the most, what events will bring the next wave of personal change. I met a ton of people at a wine tasting with him in Houston who left the party feeling closer with the friends they came with. When I got home the next day, I kissed my family a little longer.

Gary's keenly aware of these interviews and public appearances and the process through which his words make it into newspapers, magazines and Web pages. So, even though these quotes from the drive (they didn't make the story) are out of context, I think they really give some more insight into what Gary's up to.

"I'm so not into things that separate people into groups."

"People talk about the romance of opening up the newspaper. There was a romance to making smoke signals, too."

"I don't feel like a jerk talking about (my charisma), because I don't think I deserve credit."

"I'm never half pregnant."

"If you think, 'Ooo, video blogging, I'm going to make money doing that,' you've already lost."

"It is my life to build community."

"LeBron James didn't read about being a great basketball player. I didn't read about marketing."

"Until I know someone, I'm not going to judge them. It's the same thing with wine."

"People are scared to go after what they want because either their parents or society told them not to and they believed them."

"People don' t understand how hard I really work. That's the part that's not sexy."

"I think the reason I'm so in tune with my palate is the same reason I'm so in tune with my soul."

What it's like to be a food writer, so far

I haven't written much about the new job, well, because I've been writing a lot at the new job. Stories, yet, but you wouldn't believe how many keystrokes go to blogging and e-mails alone. I do love me some technology, however, and have jumped on the Twitter bandwagon (broylesa is my name, so have a look and see what you think.) and have been trying to blog like crazy over at Relish Austin. By doing it regularly, I'm hoping to get some readers and get myself used to that blend of work/personal, laid back/professional. It's a tricky balance right now, but I'm working on it.

Since getting back from my road trip last week with Gary Vaynerchuk, I've been booking it on some stories and trying to keep my head above water with e-mails, possible stories, contacts and reader feedback.

The e-mails are mostly from PR folks wanting me to check out a new product, Web site, cookbook or strange berry from South America that will lower my risk of cancer. Some reader mail, which is always fun to reply to. (Only one or two nasty ones, a pretty good record I'd say, seeing as how people take their pie pretty seriously in Texas.) Not too many comments on the blog still...(hint hint and thanks to those who have)

Oh and the snail mail and packages. Even before I started my job officially, I was getting tons of promotional items from companies hoping I'll write about their product. I've received everything from charcoal to spices to a block of Parmesan cheese. And don't forget the books. It's easy to get buried beneath the piles of books, on subjects ranging from cupcake decorating to kosher meals to the best clam shacks in Massachusetts. I donated a bunch to the company book sale earlier this week, the profits of which go to charity. I've held a few back for reference and taken a few home to try.

Speaking of the blog, the "What's in Your Fridge Friday" feature I'm really excited about. I've already lined up a couple of great locals (a hip hop artist/VJ and a nationally renown author) for the next few weeks, so give it a look. And send me a photo of your fridge :).

I'm also going to start a monthly meetup, where I get together with whoever the heck wants to at some random place in town to get to know folks and talk about anything remotely related to food. Appetizers with Addie. I'll launch it this week, probably to take place the week after next. Where should we go? The Ginger Man? Jovitas? Some place up north I don't know about yet?

It's weird being around food (and everything food-related) all day and simultaneously thinking about your own food needs and likes and dislikes. I've already learned that going to our weekly food meeting leaves my stomach painfully grumbling after it's over. Hearing Dale Rice talk about his recent trip to China and all the good food he ate and learned to cook, or listening to our designer regal us with stories of her garden's bounty.

I got caught eating a cup of instant noodles (I was in a pinch, promise!) when I first started, but around the holidays, I'm sure I'll be able to sustain myself on office food alone. Haven't gained any weight — so far.

I've received some new products I thought would taste great but that actually tasted horrible (olive oil, certain trail mixes) and some products I thought would be gag-worthy but that were actually pretty good (cocoa almonds).

Just shows you can't judge a food by anything but its taste.