I recently attended a wedding, and it was, as weddings are wont to be, an almost transcendentally beautiful occasion. It was held on the grounds of a giant sandstone Federation house (who can honestly call something with guest quarters off-site a house?) sitting on miles of pristine green acreage. Fairy lights in the shape of love-hearts hung from the trees. The air smelled of freshly cut grass. Butlers stood with umbrellas armed for the possibility of rain to escort you the few feet to the bathrooms. The food was unlike any food I’d ever tasted. The country estate on which is was held, several hours outside of Sydney, was [...]

"A decade ago, in Boston for her 35th birthday, she paid a call on a body-modification artist. Ms. Hamilton wanted what’s known as a 'slash and burn.' She selected a spot on her right arm to be ritualistically cut, dabbed with alcohol and set aflame. 'It’s sort of like a tattoo except 5,000 times more painful,' she said. 'And when they cut you, my God, they cut you.'" —I really like the monkfish liver at Gabrielle Hamilton's restaurant, Prune. She seems like an interesting person and, judging from the recent excerpt in the New Yorker, her new book Blood, Bones & Butter could be very good. And I [...]