This week, a berry battle royale and a taste of TikTok stardom. We also welcome Guest Gulletier Ryan Bush to the table.
Strawberry Shortcake Can Suck My Dick
by Greg
Everywhere I look these days, strawberry shortcake is the name on everyone’s lips: the seasonal dessert special on restaurant menus, the grocery store grab-and-go that garners instant smiles at a BBQ, the Taylor Swift of sweets. I’m not having any of it. I know I’m in the minority here, but I think strawberry shortcake is boring and lazy. Everyone thinks strawberries are “sexy.” The bellwether that ushers in fun in the sun. And god forbid you say you don’t like them. “What’s wrong with you!? They’re one of god’s great gifts!” You pair them with a sponge cake, and a blast of whipped cream, and people lose their damn minds.
Has it always been like this? Inevitably, at some point in the consumption of this seasonal scourge, someone will utter, "Strawberry shortcake is like...quintessentially summer.” I get it, it looks pretty, but it makes me wanna barf. Who is the shortcake cult leader that brainwashed everyone into thinking that strawberries are the be-all-end-all-berry!? I happen to think blueberries are superior, and before you say a damn word about them being a “tough flavor to work with,” let me ask you this: Have you gone blueberry picking and put more in your face than your bucket? When have you plucked a strawberry from its lowly shrub? Have you ever eaten a fresh blueberry popover in Maine? When have you been to brunch and yearned for strawberry pancakes? I didn't think so.
I’ve recently been blessed with some blueberry desserts that have cut through the bullshit, so listen up!
Last Saturday, my wonderful neighbor Mary came over for dinner bearing a dessert that made me gasp. From a distance, I could see the distinct indigo hue of baked blueberries coating the sides of the Pyrex dish she was holding—a vanilla yellow cake over a bed of homemade blueberry compote.
This cake was a portal to all of the other incredible blueberry confections I've known and loved: my late aunt's blueberry muffins, a vegan blueberry crumble my friend Micah made in the microwave during the pandemic, the blueberry lemon cookie recipe I’d had saved for three years and finally made. Each bite took my hand and walked me down the Blueberry Hall of Fame. The dessert itself was simple and delicious, making me marvel at how extraordinary and versatile these little fruits could be.
Just when Mary’s dessert had me thinking we were turning a corner, one of my favorite restaurants, [redacted], launched an offensive on the Blueberry Battlefield. They touted their Strawberry Shortcake Sorbet on Instagram to a deluge of comments screaming, "YASSS QUEEN! Strawberry FANTASY MAMA!" All I have to say is they can go shit up a rope, and they are on mute until apple season!
Counter-strikes were made during a few recent visits to Gaskins (a Gullet favorite). They touted some blueberry heavy hitters that had strawberry shortcake on its knees, begging for mercy. On the first go, my ears perked up at the evening’s special dessert: cornmeal ice cream topped with blueberry compote and crackerjacks. Our server even told us that the restaurant had purchased unique glassware to serve it in because they value presentation, and this compote called for it! Slay. The cornmeal ice cream was soft but had something to say, and the compote was bold and beautiful, giving peanut butter and jelly a run for its money in the perfect pairing department. I would usually push crackerjacks out of bed, but this week, I patted the pillow and said, "Come here." They gave the dish a respectable crunch (and the perfect amount of salt).
The next dish was a blueberry polenta crisp served with a scoop of house-made Cara Cara ice cream. Not only did this dessert deliver on everything right and beautiful about blueberries, but the gorgeous complimentary colors were a treat for the eyes. The dark purple of the warm and oozing blueberries undulating against the sunny and saturated yellows of the polenta. The light acidity of the orange in the ice cream teamed up with the sweet and savory notes to complete The Triforce of a blue ribbon summer bake.
Finally, my last brush with blueberry euphoria was served in an electric cerulean coupe glass at Julia’s Local, another neighborhood favorite. Perhaps this dish showcased my favorite berry in its purest form, a mound of just-picked, juicy berries sprinkled with sugar and served in a bath of fresh cream. The elegant presentation and pure flavor dared you to believe that blueberries ever needed aid from a crust, crumble, or cake.
Will you join me in removing bluebs from their decades-long residency in the breakfast smoothie and seat them rightfully on the summer dessert dais? Help me sentence strawberries back to being the slutty top note of early aughts body lotions and sprays. Can I count on you to shitcan shortcake and enlist in the blueberry battalion?
Next time you’re tasked with bringing dessert to the cookout, don’t be a little bitch and take the easy way out. Get creative, grow a pair, and give your aunt Susan something she’ll tell her friends about at book club. Go blueberry or go home.
Name drops: Gaskins, Julia’s Local
A Star is Born
by Ryan Bush1
This is the story of the birth of the Blackberry Pesto Pizza.
I do not claim to be the inventor of the Blackberry Pesto Pizza (BPP), but I did come up with it on my own. Yes, I could have been exposed to the idea subconsciously. Still, I like to think of it as one of those things that were invented simultaneously in different places by two people without any contact—like the blast furnace (invented independently in China, Europe and Africa).
I’ve been a pizza enthusiast my whole life, with a penchant for unexpected flavors. I have nothing to say about pineapple on pizza, but I’ve enjoyed pizzas with apples, blueberries, and kiwis. I once made this lemon pizza—but it was awful—one of the worst things I’ve ever put in an oven. Anyway, the first time I made the BPP was in 2018. I was visiting my family in Denver and decided to check out a fast-casual restaurant called Mod Market on Colorado Boulevard near Barnes & Noble. Their menu resembles a more sophisticated Panera with sandwiches, salads, pizzas, and grain bowls. One of their sandwiches immediately caught my eye—Blueberry Pesto—fresh mozzarella, blueberry chia jam, tomato, arugula, and basil pesto on ciabatta. It was phenomenal. So good that I had to have it again when I was flying out of Denver International Airport a few days later! It was even better the second time. A glorious harmony of flavors. I thought about it for days to come.
A week later, back home in Queens, I was looking at some blackberries that needed to be eaten, and then, it happened. The BPP angel came down and whispered into my heart, “Put me on a pizza.” My mind flashed back to the Mod Market sandwich, and I got straight to work. I used store-bought dough, store-bought pesto, store-bought mozzarella, and store-bought parmesan with fresh basil from my garden—just kidding. It was incredible. With each bite, I could hear Vivaldi’s Concerto No. 4 in F minor, Op. 8, RV 297, “L’inverno” (Winter). It tasted much like the Mod Market sandwich but way better. Blackberries have a more intense, layered, and tart flavor profile compared to blueberries. The texture is firm yet tender, with tiny seeds that add a bit of crunch. I became obsessed. The BPP was now a staple in my life. I would make it for potlucks, dinners at home for my friends, and experimented with various doughs and pesto brands. Full recipe here and merch here.
Fast forward to 2021, when, during the pandemic, I became a TikTok star. I made a recipe video for the BPP, and it went viral. Thousands of people making the BPP and tagging me in the comments. It was wonderful. At this point, I was able to convince my more accomplished chef friends to make it for me, using homemade everything. Shoutout to Liam Thomas Holding for making the best BBP I’ve ever had. I must admit the BPP benefits immensely from
homemade ingredients, and that’s something I’m working on. After failing having attempted to make homemade ricotta, I have yet to try my hand at pizza dough.
When I think about the future of the BPP, I have a dream. There’s a great pizza place near my apartment in Ridgewood called Decades Pizza. My fantasy is that for my birthday, they make the BPP for me and all my friends. My birthday is in November, however, and blackberries are a summer fruit. So, Decades—if you see this, I would be willing to have my BPP party in the summer or in November with non-local blackberries. Please let me know. There’s another pizza place near me called Pizzeria Panina, and the offer goes to them too! I would approach Rosa’s on Fresh Pond, but their employees did not adhere to the mask mandate during the worst, worst parts of Covid, so I haven’t been there since 2020.
Name drops: Mod Market, Decades Pizza, Pizzeria Panina, Rosa’s
A special thank you to this week’s illustrator, Colin Verdi2! See his work here.
If you’d like to be a Guest Gulletier or illustrator, drop us a note at putitinthegullet@gmail.com
Ryan Bush is an artist and TikTok star based in New York City. He makes art with Raphael Martinez Cohen under the moniker Ficus Interfaith. He is not a chef, but he is very creative in the kitchen.
Colin Verdi is an award-winning illustrator and artist living and working in New York City. He has created illustrations for many books across genres and target age ranges, and his artwork has been licensed to be used for covers that have been published by clients all over the world. He also often works live, creating fashion illustrations of guests at events which they then get to keep. His work has been recognized by American Illustration and by the Society of Illustrators for excellence in the Book, Editorial, and Advertising categories.