October 2 - Imagine choosing what you want to be?
Welcome back. Or, thank you for welcoming me back, I guess I should say. The Crossover Appeal has been going through a lot of changes behind the scenes, but today is going to be all about familiarity, confidence, and comfort. You know, just to get back in the swing of things.
The recommendations I’m bringing today are all marked by remix and revision. Taking things you might consider old hat - the sci-fi western, for instance, or the rom-com musical - and cocking your head a bit to the side for something just a little off. How do you make the tried and true format of the cookbook hit different? What does it mean to play an open world role playing game and simply stand still in the setting sun for a while?
It turns out, it means something quite nice. It means something like a slow soak in the tub or a shaking out of a seasonal blanket, musty from the drawer. It’s a fuzzy invitation back to the things you love. Consider this newsletter your save the date for coming back to your autumnal self, when you pull what you love in close and ready yourself for the cold.
It’s not cold yet, after all. There’s still time.
Play: Sable by Shedworks
Take Breath of the Wild, that Zelda game from a few years back that made it onto everyone’s best games of all time lists, mix it with your favorite meditation app and you’ll have something close to the experience of playing Sable. This first effort from two-person studio, Shedworks, is a masterclass in tone and focus, delivering a blank verse adventure that pays homage to everything from Star Wars to mid-century sci-fi pulp to the whole YA, coming-of-age genre. You play as Sable, a girl on the cusp of adulthood just setting out for her Gliding - a ceremonial time where she tries just about every profession that catches her fancy. This is the hook on which the game’s loose quest structure hangs and is how Sable sets itself apart from more conventional open-world exploration games. As the player, do what seems most fun to you, and that’s what the game will give you more of. Love exploring the old spaceship wrecks in the wastes? Earn those scrapper badges. Like the crunchy, spatial puzzle of ascending to each cartography balloon? Then meet as many cartographers as you can. Eventually you will have to make a choice about which profession (represented evocatively by a series of masks) speaks to Sable the most, but in the meantime, simply live for the Glide. Sable is a game with all the magic of Kiki’s Delivery Service and none of the burnout. Even if video games aren’t your thing, you deserve to meander beneath the stark, comforting moon of this world for a while.
Read: The Art of Flavor by Daniel Patterson and Mandy Aftel
I did not grow up in the kitchen. Instead, I spent time around the stovetops, counters, and bars of other people on TV. Jacques Pepin, Rick Bayless, Lidia Bastianich, Martin Yan, and Bridget Lancaster were my companions on long Saturday mornings where I’d watch them confidently, magically conjure deliciousness out of ingredients I hadn’t the foggiest idea about. Even now, I still think about that confidence they all have and how I still don’t - probably because I want shortcuts, not labor, on my way there. Daniel Patterson and Mandy Aftel’s book, The Art of Flavor, isn’t the shortcut I’ve always wanted, but it does present a unique perspective on the whole endeavor of cooking that has helped reframe exactly what it is that I’m still missing. That’s because Patterson, a Michelin starred chef, and Aftel, a master perfumer, approach the subject like technicians working with miraculous, yet transparent, concepts. The Art of Flavor isn’t a book of recipes, though there are recipes to be had. Instead it’s a syllabus, a guidebook for your tour through your own senses’ interaction with all the food you love most. It asks you to consider your food in terms like high notes and low notes, to think about how chervil might interact with toasted bread crumbs, and why. Even if you make none of the recipes from this book, you’ll probably have a few aha! moments that make you feel a little less hesitant the next time you wonder if you shouldn’t try something new in the preparation of a favorite meal. The Art of Flavor is a comforting permission slip to loosen up a little on your way to kitchen confidence and have some fun if you can. It asks you to look at a stocked pantry and a scattering of kitchen tools and says, "yeah, give it a shot."
Listen: Local Valley by Jose Gonzalez
The irony at the gorgeous heart of this latest record from Swedish singer-songwriter, Jose Gonzalez lies in its title. The warm and delicate instrumentation along with his lullaby-sweet voice feel local indeed, familiar, comforting, and nurturing. But in truth, Local Valley is a rushing tangle of global influences. Gonzalez sings in three languages across the record, there’s Spanish acoustic finger-picking sitting beside west African percussion and all the while the musical compositions reflects a deeply classical sensibility. And yet, unified by Gonzalez’s remarkable artistic vision, it all sits together like moss on a forest floor, softening the terrain and perfuming the air. Gonzalez has been working in this vein for a long time but his recordings are rarer than you might expect for someone with as long and well-respected a career ashis. He made his solo debut almost 18 years ago, and Junip - a side project he makes up half of - last released a record in 2013. All this makes a new Gonzalez record something to treasure. Its timing is perfect too as the weather turns cooler and the nights get longer - hold Local Valley close to the chest and take comfort when you need it in its crackling, lively wonder.
Watch: Schmigadoon on Apple TV
Apple TV has seen a raft of high profile releases this year. Ted Lasso’s second season has retained its positive-vibes-only fan base while taking some pretty big narrative risks, John Stewart just made his return to television on his new Apple TV show, and Foundation, the other effects-driven sci-fi adaptation of 2021, just released to, if not thunderous applause, at least widely held appreciation for its ambition. In the midst of all this it would be easy to miss Schmigadoon entirely. It’s a brisk season of half hour-ish episodes that follows a plateauing couple, played by SNL alum Cecily Strong and tall funny person, Keegan Michael-Key, as they find themselves stranded within the township limits of a period stage musical. The whole setting is vague and hand-wavy. We are not meant to look too closely at the stage dressing, it’s all just a dramatic prompt for the show’s real interest: a swelling, romping consideration of whatever it is that makes two people love each other. Schmigadoon is a silly show. Massively silly. The whole thing feels a bit like an overblown SNL sketch (as well it should, SNL alum are a dime a dozen here and Lorne Michaels stands in as producer), but unlike SNL, the punchlines land; and so does its heart. Cecily’s performance as Melissa is surprisingly pathos-filled and she carries off the tonal switches between heartbreak and hootenanny more than capably. Key is a little less compelling as predictably stick-in-the-mud Josh, but the important moments still ring true. Schmigadoon is about looking at the fundamental silliness of love and saying, yes, I do want that, it turns out. Give it a shot if you need an early fall pick-me-up. It did the trick for me.
Thanks for reading and stay tuned for a lot more. I’m so glad you’re here.
Jordan Cassidy
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