THE VOICE OF CHICAGO'S GAY, LESBIAN, BI, TRANS AND QUEER COMMUNITY SINCE 1985

In the queer community, naming and labeling are understood as more than a way to keep order, to understand who's who. Names are often self-claimed, used in order to unwrite, overwrite, and rewrite the stories and relationships understood as a part of dominant culture. Names often come with stories, larger narratives and histories, ones that we may come to understand as a personal heritage, as a connection with the past. Names are simultaneously visible and invisible, eliding in the experience of who we are as indicated by what we call ourselves.

Amuse Bouche is the name we have chosen for this food column. We wanted to make clear the column was about food, that food itself was about taste. We wanted to suggest that the column would be playful, a vehicle to evoke your taste buds, and provide differing perspectives. An Amuse Bouche is just a taste; one mouthful of flavor. It is a suggestion of what is to come, of the promise of a fully manifested meal.

In the same way, our prose is intended to be able to be swallowed in one larger bite, to be enjoyed as easily as it can be consumed. In our first nine weeks of publication, Amuse Bouche was composed of a team of two: Greg Perrine ( aka Gregory, Gregors, Greggy-poo, Greg P, Gregory Todd, G, Perrine, and Michael's favorite, Asshole ) and Ames Hawkins ( aka Amy, Aim, Miss Hawkins, Hawk, The Hawk, MommaDaddy, Mom, Momma A, Blunthead, Cattle Prod, Dr. H ) . Like a combination of cumin and chili powder, both provided tasty prospectives and recipes that defined family. But there was something missing, a spice to further enhance our taste. So in this, our second installment of Amuse Bouche, we want to introduce a third spice, a bit of cinnamon perhaps, to our readers: Danielle Aquiline ( aka Danni, Dan-yelllll, Pumpkin, Ms. Aquiline, Scooter, Boo, D. Lee, D ) .

Having been born in the North, raised in the South and reared in a Jewish/Italian family, Danielle has always used food as a way to both negotiate with and understand the communities around her. She happened into the kitchen as a young girl trying to connect and communicate with her—then closeted—gay father. That relationship showed her that, while it is sometimes difficult to find words, it can be easy to find food. ( It also showed her how to make a mean pesto. ) Now, Danielle spends time cooking for her partner of 10 years and exploring the intersections of foodways, language and photography. Danielle rounds out the flavor Amuse Bouche works to provide our readers, the idea that a variety of queer voices can all work to engage with the larger subject of food. She is the thirties between the twenties; the lesbian to our gay and genderqueer. She works in the visual, as well as the textual and will undoubtedly provide additional zest to our team.

And so, we all three, present a new focus for our food writing. For the next nine weeks, each of us will present three columns that explore our relationship with and understanding of food and cooking through the idea of naming; nine different recipes in which you can taste history and heritage. We consider the ways that recipes are gleaned, collected from a friends, a partners, relatives, and stranger. These are plates that have found their way into our collections, ones that retain identification with a particular person. These are dishes that are named, that somehow stand above the rest in being attributed to someone else in particular. This is food we enable by name, food to which we give a human location. We invite you to learn more about our newest collaborator Danielle. Come and meet our community of recipes!