when you want, where you want.
Peter Som Takes Each Bite As It Comes
Illustration: Ryan Inzana
When he moved to the West Village in 1996, Peter Som quickly made a name as a young fashion designer. He has since expanded into lifestyle (like with his namesake collaboration with spice-makers Burlap & Barrel), and this month he launches his debut cookbook, Family Style, which reflects the Cantonese flavors of his childhood as well as his mother’s love for French cuisine. Today — still in the same apartment he landed in 29 years ago — Som entertains once or twice a month, for six to eight people. But does he welcome his guests bringing dishes or prefer to exert strict control over the menu? “As I’ve said in the book, if someone offers you help, take it,” he says. “But no one ever offers.”
Friday, February 21
First thing every morning, I put beans in my coffee grinder. Ever since I did a segment on Today With Hoda & Jenna about all-things coffee a few years back, I quietly consider myself a coffee aficionado. I have one cup only each morning, and freshly ground beans are the best: The moment a bean is ground, it starts to degrade in flavor and intensity. I always use a French press, and probably double the amount of grounds recommended for a very strong cup, plus a splash of whole milk and a quarter of a packet of stevia.
My apartment is being shot for Homeworthy this morning, so I spend the few hours before the videographer shows up shoving anything unattractive into cabinets and closets. I finesse the flowers I bought from Dutch Flower Line the day before and artfully place my new cookbook, Family Style, on the coffee table. Filming takes a few hours — I glug a Harmless Harvest coconut water between takes.
I run a few errands before realizing it’s 2 p.m. and I haven’t had lunch yet. I stop into the PlantShed around the corner from my apartment and grab some kind of vegan chocolate-peanut-butter granola bar. It’s way too sweet, but I eat it anyway. I’m in the throes of planning Family Style launch stuff, so the rest of the afternoon is spent watching waves of email flood my inbox. I feel like Keanu Reeves in The Matrix, bending backward at a crazy angle dodging laser beams — or whatever happens in that movie. I just remember the outfits, really.
It’s about 4 p.m. when I look up from my laptop and realize I need to eat something. My go-to snack at home is almost always peanut butter — I am a chunky fan, texture please! A spoonful always does the job, but upon finding a tiny jar of Bonne Maman Strawberry Preserves (like the kind from hotel room service) in my fridge, I decide to go nostalgic and make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. After wondering where in the world I got this tiny jar, I eat the sandwich standing at my kitchen counter like a savage beast. I guess I was hungrier than I thought.
For dinner, I head down to Chinatown to celebrate my bestie Rafé Totengco’s birthday. He’s having it at one of my new favorites, Phoenix Palace on the Bowery. It’s got a cool Hong Kong cinema vibe in the same vein as its sister restaurant, Potluck Club. I order a martini: super dry with a twist. My favorite dish — among many — is its Baby Bok Choy Dragon Salad. The meal is served family style, but I could’ve probably polished off that salad, and most of the dishes, all by myself.
Back home, a glass of water to help mitigate the effects of the martini — and oh yes, and a few glasses of wine.
Saturday, February 22
The morning starts off the same: French press, a splash of milk, and a few packets of stevia. As I’m going to my 8:45 a.m. Equinox cardio kickboxing class, I have my usual pre-workout snack — a slice of sprouted-grain cinnamon-raisin toast with chunky peanut butter and a drizzle of honey. Getting lightheaded while doing jump kicks is never great.
I stagger home post-gym through Washington Square — it’s a lovely walk — and resist the gravitational pull of Mah-Ze-Dahr bakery’s croissants, but, okay, fine, I do buy a cookie for later. Back home, I make a post-workout smoothie, whizzed in my Bullet until it’s cold, smooth, and milk-shakey. I am actually sort of in love with these smoothies.
If it’s Saturday, it’s brunch! I walk down to my go-to, Via Carota, and meet my friends Uli and Michael. We regularly meet for brunch, and it’s all so And Just Like That … (I’m obviously a Charlotte). We’re not crazy hungry, so we split the Insalata Verde and the anchovies with butter on toast, and I have the chicken-soup special. Shockingly, I only drink half of my Bloody Mary. I feel like the picture of health.
The rest of the afternoon is spent wandering around the West Village, and after reveling in a Saturday-afternoon nap, I catch up on the latest episode of RuPaul’s Drag Race.
For dinner, I take my friend Mo out for her birthday. She’s been flirting with going vegan for health reasons, so I took her lead on where to book. We go to a vegan omakase spot called Omakaseed on 47th Street — delicious! I love the no-thinking-just-eating vibe of omakase. You give up control and let the sushi master curate the meal. I’m especially into the Apple & Cheddar — braised apple, glazed onion, cheese crisp, and maple-thyme shoyu. We wash it down with a glass of Pinot Grigio. All delicious. Post-meal, I dodge Times Square tourists and jump on the subway to head downtown.
Back home, I realize it’s only 8:45. (We had an early reservation — I love eating early. What is happening to me?) I’m craving something sweet after all the savory notes from dinner. I have very few sweets at home, so I order a mango sago from Mango Mango Dessert in the East Village. It seems a shame to order only one thing, so, well, I may have also ordered a slice of matcha mille crêpe cake. The only advantage to this cold weather is that the mango ice cream in the sago is still perfectly frozen. Despite eating all of it, I have zero problems going straight to bed.
Sunday, February 23
It’s the usual: French press, milk, stevia. Sunday mornings are lazy mornings. I tidy up the apartment with Food Network on in the background; I find The Pioneer Woman comforting.
After the last few days’ indulgence, I decide to have a Ka’Chava smoothie for lunch. Somewhere around 11:30, I also have three slices of prosciutto I fish out of the fridge.
A few hours later, I meet up with a friend and we end up at my home away from home — Cafe Cluny. Weekend brunch at Cluny can be intense, but luckily we get there after the rush and find two seats at the bar. I briefly consider getting a burger (I almost always initially consider the burger if it’s on the menu) but end up getting my usual: an omelet with herbs, mushrooms, spinach and Gruyère, with a side of salad greens and a glass of Pinot Grigio. I steal a few of my friend’s fries. I see the bartender make a very pretty drink that turns out to be a Bellini — so in the spirit of camaraderie, I say why not and order one. (I can justify anything.)
I swear I planned on cooking, but for some reason I end up ordering a Roberta’s pizza and its Bibb salad. I plow through the pizza — that crust! — crisp, just charred, with a chewy tender interior. That sauce — tangy and bright with a whisper of heat — intermingled with pools of cheese. Perfection! I save the salad for tomorrow, eat a low-sugar peanut-butter cup and call it a day.
Monday, February 23
French press, milk, stevia, and … a spoonful of chunky peanut butter.
It’s a Barry’s Bootcamp day, so I have my pre-workout snack (toast, peanut butter, and honey). Post-workout it’s a smoothie, then it’s time to get to work. Still in the throes of cookbook-launch planning, it’s a day of Zooms. I have a handful of almonds sometime in the afternoon then, around 4 p.m., I eat the leftover salad from Roberta’s.
For dinner, I cook what I intended to cook the night before. I cube firm tofu and add it into a bag with cornstarch and a healthy few teaspoons of my own Burlap & Barrel spice blend, Bird’s the Word, and toss until the tofu’s coated. The tofu cubes go into a wok with hot grape-seed oil, and I brown all sides until they’re light golden brown and crispy. I love tofu, and this is probably the version I most often cook when I am feeling lazy. The tofu comes out and in goes half a sliced onion I had in the fridge, sliced garlic (I rarely mince garlic — slicing garlic releases less of that pungent garlic flavor since less cell walls are damaged … but I’m digressing), then broccoli, which I sauté, then I add a few spoonfuls of Bowl Cut’s Char Siu Sauce. When everything’s tender, I add the tofu back in, toss, and finish with some of my Burlap & Barrel finishing sprinkle Feelin’ Snacky, which is kind of a loose melding of furikake and za’atar.
Feeling virtuous, I drink some water and head to bed — but not before I find myself craving something crunchy. I find an unopened sleeve of graham crackers in the pantry and have a few. Good night!
Tuesday, February 24
Up and at ’em! A cup o’ the usual, then — I wish this were more interesting — emails, emails, emails. I’m like that typing-cat meme. Is the stress level high? Yes!
Before I know it, I have to run to Haar & Co. for my haircut. After a bit of chitchat with my barber Mike, I zone out — does anyone else find hair cutting relaxing? On the way back home, I resist the gravitational pull of Apollo Bagels on the corner and head home.
A rescheduled Zoom call frees up an hour, so I decide that I’m worth it and duck into San Sabino for lunch at the bar. So often my lunches are juggling a smoothie whilst dealing with this or that — what a treat to step into its bright, happy yellow room and pull up a seat at the bar. I know exactly what I want: a chilled red and its now-iconic shrimp parm, massive head-on shrimp that have been doused in a sea of marinara and mozzarella — ooey-gooey garlicky perfection!
After an afternoon of more Zooms (what we did before Zoom calls, I’d really like to know — went outside, smelled flowers?) I receive a bunch of advance copies of Family Style so I run one over to my friend Angie Mar over at Le B.; she has been a huge supporter all along the way and hasn’t seen the book yet. She gives me a Sharpie — I’ve signed my first book! — and shoves a glass of Champagne in my hand, which I very readily drink.
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