A New England Juneteenth Fish Fry
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IN THIS ISSUE: Readers report back on their memories of potato chip delivery—and a new RFI re: the mysterious Chagaccino
Appetizers
Chips, Ahoy!
I recently asked readers to share recollections they had of Charles Chips, a company that, in a better time, delivered huge tins of fresh potato chips to customers’ doorsteps—and the readers came through! Growing up in the early ’80s in Jacksonville, Florida, Alexandria remembers dipping them in cottage cheese. Don wrote that, in the late ’70s and early ’80s, “every professional office in LA was fully stocked with Charles’ products. Tins galore. Real estate, accountants, lawyers, it was just SOP, a given.” Emily had a poignant memory of the Chip Man delivering to her Levittown, Pennsylvania, home in a matching brown truck and uniform, “like a current day UPS driver.” The chips were also a fixture of the swank parties Jen’s grandparents hosted in the basement bar of their Staten Island duplex, and Nate noted that “Grandma & Pop” in Kentucky were “never without a tin.” Cindy recalls the quality of the chips being incredible, and agrees that the disappearance of such bespoke delivery services reflects civilizational decline (“The world has become a cold, impersonal place.”), while Newton postulates that they perhaps helped inspire the growing global enshittification, wondering “if Jeff Bezos ever had Charles Chips home delivery when he was a kid?” (If he did, he didn’t deserve it.) It was a delight, as always, to read your emails, and I raise a bowl of fried potatoes in your honor! —Amiel
Chagaccino for Me, Will Ya?
Readers, has the Chagaccino crossed your transom? It’s essentially a cappuccino with a dash of ground chaga mushrooms that—when made with monkfruit and non-dairy milk, as it often is—turns the original into an adaptogenic-keto-organic-sugar-free-plant-based potpourri. Chagaccinos are nowhere and everywhere. If you start paying attention at the slightly unhip third-wave coffee shops near you, you might suddenly notice a prominent, cheugy sign touting Chagaccinos’ many purported health benefits resting on each counter.
FRoG (Friend of Gourmet) Ari asked me to look into Chagaccinos last month (it has Shen Yuniverse wellness vibes), and now I intend to get to the bottom of the adaptogenic empire—but I need your help. Please write to alex@gourmetmagazine.net with your name, location, and ideally a picture of a Chagaccino sign, should you see one—we want to know which cafes are slinging chaga; even better if you are under the fungal foam’s sway. —Alex
A New England Juneteenth Fish Fry
Text by Audrey Devost, recipes by Josh Claflin
Additional photographs by Xia Hendricks
Black Vermonters bring Mississippi back to Bennington
I call Josh my pocket chef—whenever I’m in the heat of the cooking moment and have a question about seasoning or technique, I send him a quick Snapchat (I know), and he’s always there.
Josh and I both grew up Black in White River Junction, Vermont. We went to the same schools from kindergarten through high school, often finding ourselves the only Black kid in the classroom (or if we happened to overlap, the only two). But we grew up in different types of families. I was born in Atlanta, then raised in Vermont by parents who aren’t Black; Josh was born in Mississippi and moved to Vermont with his mother.
We both went on to seek out spaces that are a little Blacker than White River Junction in our adult lives—D.C., Florida, Virginia, L.A.—but my academic career took me back to Vermont this past year. So when I heard Josh was coming back north to visit his family, I pitched my pocket chef on coming by my college to cook for the Black Studies students, and see if we could come up with a Black Vermonter New England-Mississippi Fish Fry.
I’m a social scientist by training, and always enjoy interviewing people as part of my research. To prep, I thought I’d get Josh, a culinary artist who is currently building his private chef business in Tampa, Florida, on the phone to talk about soul food, Vermont, and life.
