The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Arts
Tuesday, November 14, 2017 — 5
Disclaimer: OK, look. At this
point, everyone just needs to
get over it. Clearly this isn’t
an actual, profound, biweekly
treatise on food and the culture
surrounding it. Clearly I’m not
qualified for this (but who’s
qualified for anything, really?).
And, clearly, I’m just using this
“food column” as a pretense
to
write
about
nebulously
food-adjacent things I find
interesting. Let’s all just accept
this and move on.
With
that
being
said,
here’s a hypothetical scene of
Thanksgiving at the Pioneer
Woman’s house. For those of
you who aren’t Food Network-
heads (boo), have fun hanging
out with Ree Drummond, Ina
Garten, Chris Santos, Marc
Murphy, Scott Conant, Geoffrey
Zakarian, Marcus Samuelsson,
Alex Guarnaschelli, Giada de
Laurentiis, Bobby Flay and
Guy Fieri. Apparently there are
those out there who don’t know
who these people are.
The
boys
are
outside
cleaning up with Ladd. Paige
and Alex are inside doing each
other’s hair. The kitchen smells
of butter and heavy cream and
vaguely
ethnically
inspired
foods. It’s Thanksgiving, and
Ree Drummond is happy.
It’s been so long since I’ve felt
this feeling of … warmth, she
thinks, for a fleeting moment,
before she’s interrupted by the
doorbell. The guests are here!
What
enchanting,
bewildering fun. Entertaining
has always been a staple of
Ree’s
lifestyle;
thank
God
Ina let her host this year. Ree
puts down her copy of Mrs.
Dalloway and rushes to answer
the door.
Speak of the devil: It’s her.
“Oh hey, Ree!” she exclaims
with feigned excitement. They
hug as if they actually like
each other. Ugh. “Jeffrey will
be here in a bit. He’s just going
to find parking.”
“Well, you can just park
anywhere in the field,” Ree
says. “We’ve got so much open
space.”
“We just wanted to find a…
parking lot,” she replies. “The
ranch is gorgeous, though!”
Ina walks inside and sets
down her dish wrapped in
tinfoil.
She
looks
around
before
placing
it
in
the
warming drawer beneath the
oven. Ree knows what it is —
she just can’t believe it.
The stupid lemon chicken.
A simple mixture of herbs
and olive oil, lemon wedges
and slices of onion covering
the width of the chicken, all
roasted in a pan — and for
what? The insipid taste of
lemon and garlic infused in a
dry slice of chicken? There’s
already a turkey. Ree plots to
“forget” the dish in the drawer.
Take that, Barefoot Contessa.
The bell rings again. Ree
can hear too many voices at
the door, so she knows who
it is: The Chopped Boys. She
laughs at the thought of their
group tattoo, which is actually
spelled Chopt Boiz, but that
wouldn’t fly in Oklahoma.
She opens the door and
laughs; it’s always great to see
the boys. They might air back-
to-back, but they never can
seem to find the time.
Chris, Scott, Aaròn, Marc,
Marcus,
Geoffrey
and,
of
course, Alex. She always was
the outsider. Ted didn’t come,
though. No one on that show
likes Ted.
“Hey,
Aaron,
brought
anything good this year?” says
Ree.
“Ree, mija, you know it’s
pronounced Aaròn,” he replies.
They all laugh and hug each
other.
Except for Scott, of course.
Scott never laughs.
It’s a warm and inviting
atmosphere, and Ree is in a
good place. The kids have been
great, of course, and Ladd is
still such a great and stoic
rock for her, but… It’s been
so long since Ladd has shown
her any affection. Sometimes,
she thinks, this whole rugged,
country lifestyle might be
getting the better of their
marriage. Would it be better
if they left? Would the boys
still be men and the girls still
be ladies? Would “The Pioneer
Woman” still be a brand? Ah,
well. Thoughts for another
day, she concludes.
After the big shots arrive —
Giada, Bobby and, yes, Guy —
it’s time to begin the feast. The
boys run back inside and Paige
and Alex come downstairs.
Bobby ruffles the boys’ hair
like a proud uncle. It truly is
a family at The Food Network.
Ree has made her specialty:
meatloaf. Some people might
laugh, but there’s nothing that
screams Oklahoma more than a
thick, sweaty slab of meatloaf.
Douse that in ketchup and
you might as well be yelling
“Boomer Sooner” in Norman!
Ree chuckles to herself as she
places the dish on the table.
It jiggles as she sets it down.
Yum.
Aaròn has brought maíz
tortillas
to
fill
with
a
beautifully grilled skirt steak
and
chimichurri,
courtesy
of Marcus. (Ree catches Ina
mouthing the words, “store-
bought” to Giada on the side of
the room.) Chris hasn’t brought
food, but, as always, he’s
brought his guitar — he’s the
post-dinner
entertainment,
always has been.
Bobby
and
Giada
have
collaborated (not for the first
time, Ree thinks to herself)
on a shitty bowl of pasta
with a “Southwestern twist!”
Great job, sellouts. Ree tries
to
obscure
this
with
her
immaculately
constructed
centerpiece.
Geoffrey and Scott procure,
seemingly out of nowhere,
a fully cured ham. It’s been
sitting in Scott’s basement
in Great Neck for months,
apparently.
Ina
shoots
him
a
“Great-Neck?-It’s-
No-Hamptons”
look
as
he
explains. Geoffrey pulls the
finest switchblade, made in
Switzerland, and shaves it in
the finest slices known to man.
Finally, they let Guy bring
out
his
famous
“Bloomin’
Onion, Guy’s Way.” It’s just
a Bloomin’ Onion he bought
from Outback Steakhouse that
he put in a deep fryer again.
They let him have this, every
year. It makes him feel valued.
Ree
makes
everyone
sit
down quickly and smirks at
Ladd — he knows she’s just
negged
Ina,
HARD.
They
squeeze hands under the table.
This feels right.
“Oh my God, guys, no,” says
Geoffrey. “We forgot to invite
Ayesha!”
There’s a moment of silence
before
they
all
burst
out
into
laughter.
Always
the
comedian, Geoffrey.
But then Ina makes a motion.
Of course she does.
“Wait, guys!” she exclaims,
her exasperated hands waving.
She rushes over to the oven
and pulls out the dreaded
lemon chicken. She rips off the
tinfoil and places it right in
the center, for everyone to see.
Bitch.
And then Ree sees it. A
smile creeps onto her face. The
Contessa has no idea what’s
about to happen.
“Are those… are those red
onions?” Scott trembles at the
sight before him. Geoffrey’s
face turns gaunt. Alex turns to
the rest of The Chopt Boiz and
screams.
Geofrrey grabs Scott by the
face and turns him. “Scott,
no,” he whispers. “You can
fight this. You are stronger
than this.”
Scott’s
face
is
now
an
unrecognizable shade of red.
Ree is scared, but secretly
happy. She steals a glance at
Ina’s confused, horrified face.
It’s glorious.
“THE
ACIDITY!”
Scott
screams. It’s a lost cause now.
“RAW RED ONION IS TOO
ACIDIC FOR MY PALATE!”
He flips the table with
seemingly
unknown
force.
Everything falls to the floor.
He rips off his shirt. Ree
notices
he’s
surprisingly
jacked, but makes sure to
comment on that at a later
time.
“TAKE IT AWAY FROM ME!
CRUCIFY THAT BANSHEE!
THAT EVIL HAG! BANISH
HER FROM OKLAHOMA!”
Ina is terrified. She begins
to apologize, but Jeffrey puts a
finger to her lips. He grabs her
by the arm and the two of them
sprint out.
Ree
surveys
the
scene.
Geoffrey massages Scott’s back
as he crouches on the ground,
panting. The worst is over for
now. Alex and the rest of the
gang are crying. Bobby and
Giada are nowhere to be seen,
but a thumping sound is heard
from the upstairs bedroom.
Guy picks at a tortilla fondly.
Ree turns to Ladd and plants
a kiss right on his mouth.
“I love Thanksgiving.”
A Food Network
Thanksgiving
FOOD COLUMN
NABEEL
CHOLLAMPAT
COURTESY OF SMTD
SMTD’s ‘Blood at the
Root’ to challenge, inspire
“This
piece
is
not
for
the faint of heart,” wrote
Music,Theatre & Dance and
LSA senior Elyakeem Avraham
in an email interview with The
Daily.
Avraham
will be playing
De’Andre,
one
of the six teens
depicted
in
the
SMTD’s
upcoming
performance
of
“Blood
at
the
Root.” The play
centers
around
the Jena Six, a
group
of
black
teenagers
who,
in
December
of
2006,
were
convicted
of
beating
Justin
Barker, a white
student at Jena High School in
Louisiana.
Written
by
Dominique
Morisseau for Penn State’s 2014
graduate acting class, “Blood
at the Root” is fictitious,
using the historical event as a
launching point for the story to
unfold. A member of the class,
SMTD director Stori Ayers was
a producer and an original cast
member of Morisseau’s 2014
production.
“We were the winner of
the Graham F. Smith Peace
Foundation Prize for its (“Blood
at the Root”) promotion of
human rights,” Ayers wrote.
“[We] have taken this play to
many high schools and all the
Penn State Branch campuses to
do outreach and social justice
workshops in hopes of starting
a conversation and igniting
within our generation a spirit
of activism.”
The play aims to challenge
both the audience and the
history it’s developed from,
and Ayers is imbuing SMTD’s
performance with the same
fire as the show’s origin.
“[The]
story’s
specificity
creates a universality that
charges the audience with
the social responsibility of
dealing with the ‘other’ in
order to create change,” Ayers
explained.
“Everyone
has
an ‘other’; whether based in
sexuality, race or gender, we
all deal with people who are
unlike ourselves. This play
explores the experiences of a
group of high school students
desperately trying to define
themselves
and
navigate
around those who identify
themselves
differently.”
Working
as
Associate
Choreographer
in addition to his
role as De’Andre,
Avraham
was
drawn
to
the
show
for
its
content.
“When
Jena
Six happened in
2006, I was one
of the leaders in
a protest against
the charges that
the
Jena
Six
faced,” he wrote.
“For
12
days
straight, about 300 students
wore all black to school in
solidarity with those facing
charges in the Jena Six case.
It escapes people that racial
injustices, such as this one,
happened only 11 years ago and
continue to happen today.”
Compelling and expository,
“BATR” isn’t meant to just
entertain. It’s a story of self-
agency and the resiliency of the
human spirit, and it’s intended
to affect — whatever form that
may take.
Other cast members Charda
Jameson (SMTD, sophomore),
Kathleen
Taylor
(SMTD,
junior),
Sierra
Stephens
(SMTD, sophomore) and Eddie
Williams (SMTD/LSA, senior)
spoke with The Daily on what
being in the play means for
them:
“When I read this play for
the first time last year, the
thing that stuck to me the
most was the fact that each
and every character in the play
struggles with a certain aspect
of their own social identity
and cultural context in a very
humanizing
way,”
Stephens
recalled. “As a white person in
this piece, being here means
putting my white privilege
on the table for analysis. It
means showing the white-
identifying community what it
means to recognize privilege
and what it means to confront
the
systematic
racism
we
perpetuate every day.”
“BATR”
is
self-aware,
and it’s cast embodies this
sentiment — knowing that the
world isn’t OK, and people
sometimes
aren’t
OK,
but
collectively we can be.
“(The play) portrays young
people as fiercely intelligent,
deeply feeling human beings. I
think it’s rare to find a piece of
media that takes teenagers so
seriously,” Taylor wrote.
A thoughtful piece, “BATR”
hopes to give a holistic view on
modern-day racism.
“(The
audience)
should
expect
to
see
different
perspectives and viewpoints,
both from people involved in
the issues that arise and the
people that actively choose to
stay out of them,” Williams
mentioned.
Telling a story that needs
to be heard, the show makes
sure to involve moments of
light to keep the performance
charming.
“Peope should expect to
be moved in ways that are
uncomfortable, but to also
go on a fun ride, with dance
and comic relief mixed in our
piece,” Jameson noted.
No matter the background
you’re coming from, “Blood
at the Root,” promises to be
hopeful and provoking. The
performance is scheduled for
this Thursday evening in the
Arthur Miller Theater.
ARYA NAIDU
Daily Arts Writer
SMTD
presents
“Blood at the
Root”
Arthur Miller
Theater
Nov. 16 @ 7:30
p.m.
GA $30, Students
$12
COMMUNITY CULTURE PREVIEW
DESIGN BY AVA WEINER
Read more at
MichiganDaily.com
No matter the
background
you’re coming
from, ‘Blood at the
Root,’ promises
to be hopeful and
provoking
ARE YOU TIRED OF SEEING WHITE
ADIDAS SUPERSTARS AND FAKE
SUPREME HOODIES ON THE DIAG?
WANNA SOUND OFF ABOUT THAT?
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arts@michigandaily.com for more information on applying