of beef? I think it would photograph better.”
SECOND TASTE
Richard smiled down at the new sloppy joes. “They look so much better with turkey.”
Zanne reached out a fork. “Taste better too. Cleaner. But that cumin’s got to go.”
“I only put it in for Kempy,” said Gina Marie. “It’s not right. You know it’s not right. Can I please take it out now?”
“Okay.” Kempy was gracious in defeat.
“I’m still not sure about the ketchup,” Zanne mused, “but can we talk about the biscuits? They’re just not floating my boat. Can’t you do better?”
“You said to make them easy.” There was a slight edge to Gina Marie’s voice. “So I went with buttermilk drop biscuits. They’re no work at all.”
“Still…” said Zanne. “Maybe you could try adding a little cheddar?”
“And Parmesan too,” Kempy weighed in. “It would add complexity.”
“While you’re adding ingredients,” Richard tossed in, “could you throw in some chopped parsley or scallions? Think how pretty those biscuits would be if they were lightly flecked with green. The camera would love them.”
“Anything else?” asked Gina Marie.
THIRD TASTE
The sloppy-joe filling, we all agreed, was now perfect. Richard’s scallions were a hit. But Zanne still had doubts about the biscuits. “I’m wondering if they really need to bake in a four-hundred-fifty-degree oven. Try them at four hundred and see how that works.”
Gina Marie muttered something under her breath.
“And those green beans…” added Richard.
“What’s wrong with my beans?” Gina Marie bristled. “They’re crisp. They’re perfectly seasoned. I don’t see a problem.”
“But look at them! Sad green things lying limply on the plate.” We all stared at the plate; the beans did seem rather pitiful. “The readers need to be able to taste these meals with their eyes,” said Richard, “and if they can’t see the onions, they can’t imagine the flavor.”
“And how”—Gina Marie’s hands were now on her hips—“would you propose I make those onions pop?”
“Red onions, maybe, instead of white?” Richard was quietly reminding us all that he was a wonderful cook. “Cut larger?”
“You could quarter and then roast them,” Kempy offered.
Gina Marie picked up the plate, rotating it as she gazed at the beans. “I’ll quarter small red onions, drizzle them with olive oil and balsamic vinegar, and zap them in a really hot oven. Then I can toss them with the parboiled beans at the last minute. They’ll look great.”
“And could you leave the beans whole?” Richard suggested. “It would be such a great visual.”
FOURTH TASTE
A daily diet of sloppy joes leaves something to be desired. Today when Gina Marie made up the plate, she shoved it aggressively onto the counter. “The beans are really good”—her voice held a challenge—“but I liked the biscuits better the last time around.”
“It was worth a try,” Zanne said a bit defensively. “But you’re right. Let’s go back to the last biscuits.”
FIFTH TASTE
“I don’t think I can do any better.” Gina Marie set the entire menu before us. “The biscuits are perfect. The sloppy joes look good. And the beans are great.”
“The readers are going to love it,” I said.
“And I,” said Gina Marie as she untied her apron, “am never eating a sloppy joe again.”
On first arriving at Gourmet, I’d thought this intense and tortured process too hard, too time-consuming, and too expensive, but I’d been reluctant to interfere; it was not, I thought, my place to tell Zanne how to run her department. But I soon changed my mind about the testing. The Gourmet method was fussy and democratic, but it was an essential piece of the magazine’s success. You could trust those recipes; they really worked.
But Richard took another step: He made you long to cook those dishes, and not by simply romancing the food. For this shoot Richard hired a group of models, sat them in front of a television, put on a horror film, and asked them to react to what was on the screen. You couldn’t see what they were watching, but the scene was so vivid, their reactions so strong, that you yearned to be there with them. You couldn’t be, of course, so you did the next best thing: You made the meal that they were eating.
You can make these biscuits larger if you’re going to use them as a base for sloppy joes, but I like to make small ones to serve with barbecue, chili, fried chicken—they’re extremely fast and easy and they go with just about anything.
GINA MARIE’S CHEDDAR SCALLION BISCUITS
(Adapted from Gourmet magazine)
•••
6 ounces cheddar cheese
3 tablespoons Parmesan (finely