“Untitled Number 14” By Richard Diebenkorn.

Alexandra makes Rhubarb Jam and Rhubarb Ice Cream.

“Route 66” by George W. Gardner.

Shake it.

[Photo Credit: Nina Leen]

Over at Manger: so many strawberries, so little time.

Watch Out, Now.

[Photo Via: Belles d’amour]

Here’s a treat–“Brotherly Love,” the latest short story by the most-talented Jhumpa Lahiri:

Since childhood, Subhash had been cautious. His mother never had to run after him. He kept her company, watching as she cooked or sewed.

While Subhash stayed in clear view, Udayan was disappearing: even in their two-room house, when he was a boy, he hid compulsively, under the bed, behind the doors, in the crate where winter quilts were stored.

He played this game without announcing it, spontaneously vanishing, sneaking into the back garden, climbing into a tree, forcing their mother, when she called and he did not answer, to stop what she was doing. As she looked for him, as she humored him and called his name, Subhash saw the momentary panic in her face, that perhaps she would not find him.

When they were old enough, when they were permitted to leave the house, they were told not to lose sight of each other. Together they wandered down the winding lanes of the enclave, across the lowland, to the playing field, where they sometimes met up with other boys. They went to the mosque at the corner, to sit on the cool of its marble steps, listening to a football game on someone’s shortwave.

Eventually, they were allowed to leave the enclave and to enter the greater city. To board trams and buses by themselves. They began to linger outside Technicians’ Studio, where Bengali film stars spent their days. They caught sight of the actors and actresses as they emerged from their dressing rooms or stepped into waiting cars. Udayan was the one brave enough to ask them for autographs. He was blind to self-constraints, like an animal incapable of perceiving certain colors.

In spite of their differences, one was perpetually confused with the other, so that when either name was called both were conditioned to answer. They were similar enough in build to draw from a single pile of clothes. Their complexions, a light coppery compound derived from their parents, were identical. Their double-jointed fingers, the sharp cut of their features, the wavy texture of their hair.

Subhash wondered if his placid nature was regarded as a lack of inventiveness, perhaps even a failing, in his parents’ eyes. His parents did not have to worry about him, and yet they did not favor him. It became his mission to obey them, given that it wasn’t possible to surprise or impress them. That was what Udayan did.

A few weeks ago I had a phone conversation with Red Smith’s biographer, the Pulitzer Prize-winning writer, Ira Berkow. He told me:

Walter Matthau once told me that his idea of good writing is that you have to come in on a slant. You want the reader to pause for a moment before it hits them. It’s telling a good joke.

I’ll give you an example. Matthau’s wife was good friends with Oona O’Neill who was Charlie Chaplin’s wife. When Chaplin finally came back to America Mathau and his wife gave them at a party at Matthau’s Palisades house in New Jersey. Matthau went out onto the lawn with Chaplin and they overlooked the Atlantic Ocean which was dotted with sail boats. Chaplin looked out over the ocean from Matthau’s backyard and said, “Must have cost you a fortune.”

Matthau told his wife the line and weeks later they’re driving on a hill near their home and they see the same scene–gorgeous view of the ocean. His wife said something like, “After you bought all those boats it must have cost you a lot of money.” And Matthau said to her, “That’s not good writing. You have to come in on the slant.”

Red did that kind of thing.

Nude Study by Pablo Picasso.

Over at BuzzFeed check out this gallery of hyper-realistic art.

[Painting by Omar Ortiz]

My goodness, everything about this looks wonderful.

The Flourishing Foodie gives us Apple Fennel Salad.

 
Shake it.

[Photo Via: This Isn’t Happiness]

“Escaped Fruit” by Danielle Hughson.

Yes, please. Food 52 gives Orechiette with Crispy Salami, Peas and Dandelion Greens.

Here is the story of James Agee’s magazine piece for Fortune that never ran. The article was an early draft of Agee’s classic, Let Us Now Praise Famous Men and is now being published as Cotten Tenants: Three Familes.

Photograph by Walker Evans.

“601 E Main St, Salem, VA, 2013” by Chris Suspect.

Shake it Up.

[Photo Credit: Floris Neususs]

Food 52 makes a quick sauce.

Via Cinephilia and Beyond, here’s a good documentary on the Coen brothers.