Eater - All |
- What We Miss When Vacation Rentals Become Contactless
- The Best Gifts for Cocktail Enthusiasts
- Eater Names Stephanie Wu as Executive Editor
- A Tender Cardamom Coconut Sweet Potato Bread Recipe That Tastes Like the Holiday Season
| What We Miss When Vacation Rentals Become Contactless Posted: 29 Nov 2021 11:19 AM PST  Shared lodging like bed and breakfasts, boarding houses, and room rentals are falling out of favor, replaced by contactless, host-less vacation rentals. But at what cost? As planes take off from Mohammed V International Airport just outside Casablanca, there are usually a few common souvenir items bouncing around the cargo hold: colorful Berber rugs, freshly dyed leather jackets, delicately patterned lanterns, tightly woven baskets, and other purchases from the souks. I, however, came back with boiled eggs. They weren't packed away in the cargo hold; they were plastered in my memory. Okay, yes, I got a few rugs and a jacket too, but three years after my trip, my affection for boiled eggs is my most enduring souvenir. I learned to love them in a creaky, overflowing Tangier riad, the home of my Airbnb host. The doting septuagenarian welcomed me and my partner after a long train ride from Madrid and a short ferry ride across the Strait of Gibraltar, plying us with sugary mint tea and stories until our weary eyes forced us off to bed. In the morning, we were presented with eggs in delicate cups, alongside stacks of fresh flatbreads like m'semen and khobz, tiny jars of jam with intricate metal serving spoons, fresh cheese, olives, and on and on. In the months following my trip, I came away from Morocco eating a lot of olives and dates, telling friends about meals of mechoui and b'stilla, and showing off my rugs and jacket. But the eggs stuck around long after I had new stories and souvenirs to share. Their endurance in my mind has little to do with their flavor and everything to do with the gracious host who served them. These sorts of prizes are the rewards of a good homestay, a term that can refer to any space shared between a host and a visitor, whether that's getting cozy at a traditional bed-and-breakfast, renting a room inside someone's house, or roosting in a trailer parked behind a family home. The key word here is "shared" — which is what separates a homestay from a standard vacation rental or hotel. I tend toward homestays as a matter of preference, but a recent summer trip to Portland, Maine, where my family stayed in a remotely managed house, reminded me there are fundamental differences between sharing space and renting it outright. With intermittent texts from our host, the days played out like a series of treasure hunts: for the fuse box to reset a blown fuse (it was in a basement hidden by a trap door), for the coffee in the morning (we ended up running to a cafe), for an extra fan for a room without AC (we just propped the windows open). These small inconveniences added up to a larger conclusion: This would all be better if our host was around. When it launched in 2008, Airbnb promised to digitize short-term rentals, convince more travelers to couch surf instead of booking a hotel room, make it easier for guests to find trustworthy hosts, encourage locals to open their homes and communities to strangers, and overall make travel feel more personal. While it struggled to find customers and funding in its early years, by pre-pandemic 2019, 54 million people booked 327 million nights with over 4 million hosts on Airbnb, according to an SEC filing. It scored a hugely successful IPO in late 2020, and in 2021 recorded its strongest quarter ever. Airbnb also came to dominate and dictate the market, becoming the focus of investment hubbub in the short-term rental industry and far outpacing competitors like Vrbo (now owned by Expedia) and Homestay.com. Though Vrbo launched nearly 20 years earlier than Airbnb, Airbnb boasts 5.6 million listings, almost three times as many as Vrbo's 2 million. There are companies that slowly attract customers by staying true to their original ideals; that's not what happened here. Pivot after pivot reoriented Airbnb around the kind of impersonal travel it originally tried to fix, leading the industry by the nose away from a romantic conception of immersive travel toward a more segmented, anonymous experience mediated by technology. Airbnb's identity began changing almost immediately after its founding; it expanded into "whole place" listings in 2009. More recently, the company has expanded luxury tiers for wealthy travelers more interested in private islands than futons, and incentivized hosts to add self check-in, which could earn hosts 13 percent more money for personally interacting with guests 100 percent less. According to Inside Airbnb — an open-source platform run by community activist Murray Cox that tracks public data on the site's listings — entire home/apartment listings outnumber "private rooms" (aka homestays) in all 26 American destinations tracked by the website. Entire homes make up the vast majority of listings in tourist hotspots like Nashville (88 percent), New Orleans (84 percent), and Hawai'i (84 percent). The numbers are just as extreme in international hubs like Athens (87 percent), Paris (87 percent), and Copenhagen (85 percent). (Airbnb declined to provide data on numbers of each listing type on their website.) Airbnb has also filled with professional renters over the years; on the eve of the company's massive IPO, Bloomberg reported, nearly 30 percent of bookings were hosted by private companies rather than individuals. In many cities, Inside Airbnb notes that a majority of hosts offer multiple listings; while this could be homeowners renting out different rooms in the same property, the site notes, "Hosts with multiple listings are more likely to be running a business, are unlikely to be living in the property, and in violation of most short-term rental laws designed to protect residential housing." Inside Airbnb estimates up to 60 percent of homes listed in some cities have no permanent occupants. None of Airbnb's moves were antithetical to old-fashioned homestays, but the company has stayed relevant by drifting away from its original conception — with real consequences. Whole house rentals have become the epicenter of disputes between residents and renters over "party houses," leading the company to crack down on homes without permanent tenants. Some critics also point out landlords are now incentivized to evict long-term tenants, while some cities, including major tourist hubs like New York and Barcelona, have tried pushing back against the company by banning short-term rentals. It doesn't seem so surprising to find a dystopian private theme park listed on the site. By the time COVID shut down airports and upended the rental car industry last year, Airbnb had slipped well out of harm's way. Despite reports heralding the company's end in early 2020, it was actually perfectly positioned for pandemic-era travel. With a few new cleaning protocols here and a few more days between guests there, travelers (and investors) were happy to trust the company again. It wasn't the end of Airbnb; it was the end of the original Airbnb — or it could have been. There are places where Airbnb's original vision is alive and well, like at Cynthia Upchurch's house. She began renting rooms in her Fall Branch, Tennessee, home in 2020, during the pandemic. "It makes a difference to be made to feel comfortable, like you're part of the family," Upchurch says. She rises early on weekends to cook up feasts for the guests staying in her house, like one recent morning meal that included fried catfish, cheese grits, scrambled eggs, and toast with strawberry freezer jam from a friend's farm nearby. Though she doesn't include dinner as an amenity, if guests arrive late after a day of driving, Upchurch will save them a plate of whatever she's making. "That's why we stay full. We've got nothing but love and food for you." Food is a common selling point for homestays. Even as tech companies find ways to remove friction (aka human contact) from our daily eating routines — with job-stealing autonomous delivery robots, mobbed app-based automats, and cashierless grocery stores run by surveillance — most of us make exceptions while traveling because we know that locals are the best sources on their own cultures and foodways. The same person who fires up an app to avoid talking with a line worker at their local salad chain may go out of their way to strike up a conversation with their server at a diner in Sydney, steakhouse in Rio, or bakery in Beijing. "Do we really want to travel in hermetically sealed popemobiles through the rural provinces of France, Mexico and the Far East, eating only in Hard Rock Cafes and McDonald's?" Anthony Bourdain asked in his 2000 book Kitchen Confidential. No, of course we don't. We want to mingle with the people, to absorb the "local flavor." We want to immerse. Except, nobody wants to immerse in a pandemic; we want — or at least accept — electronic cocoons. According to vacation rental industry website VRM Intel, COVID has served as a great excuse for erecting digital barriers between guests and hosts in the name of hygiene. For several years, the booming "property tech" industry supplied rentals with plenty of toys: keyless locks, smart thermostats, noise monitors, video cameras, and every other remote monitoring system to make live hosts obsolete (while introducing another dilemma for Airbnb: hosts secretly recording guests). Even as travelers have become more comfortable in 2021, a recent Morning Consult poll shows interest in home sharing has lagged behind boutique hotels and major hotel chains for months. While the poll didn't specifically address remotely managed short-term rentals, it's clear that most travelers are more game to return to anonymous, private travel than sharing space with strangers. Before the pandemic, Maggie Odhner would give guests tours of her 300-year-old farmhouse in Lenhartsville, Pennsylvania. At the farmstay (a rural take on the homestay), Odhner considered herself and her husband Calvin as "part of the package deal," even playing canasta with visitors. "Especially if I connected with a guest, I would make them breakfast too," she says. "Now I don't even have eggs in the kitchen." During the pandemic, the couple launched a "socially distanced special." Like many 18th-century farms, their house had been expanded over the years. The Odhners segmented off a later addition with its own entrance for themselves, and allowed guests to have their run of the rest of the house. It cost three times the standard price — and Maggie says she missed seeing and talking with her guests — but it was a hit with travelers from New York and Philadelphia who needed an escape. While Maggie tried to keep up old habits, cooking breakfast for guests who wanted her around, it became too much work to clean out the fridge for social distance specials, so the couple built a separate kitchen in an out-building and began to dine separately. Derek Rath doesn't buy it. Since he began hosting on Airbnb, the architectural photographer has personally welcomed nearly every guest to a small additional dwelling unit in the back of his Venice, California, home. "I've been doing this for 10 years-ish, from back when Airbnb touted itself as 'sharing your home,' which is definitely not so much the case anymore," he says. "It's always been my sense that if you are going to share your home, and if a stranger is going to come into your home, then the more welcoming you can be, the better." The same goes during the pandemic. Though he admits it can be awkward to negotiate health safety boundaries with each new guest, Rath's particular setup has allowed him to continue chatting with guests in the shared yard area and providing (and receiving) tips on restaurants and entertainment. "I've pretty much carried on doing what I do but just outside rather than inside," he says. "You can't really avoid having some connection with people, so rather than try to avoid them, I'm trying to make it as nice as possible." Around the world, in Springfield, on the South Island of New Zealand, Isabella Irsigler has worked just as hard to make guests feel welcome through the pandemic. Like Rath, Odhner, and Upchurch, Irsigler has earned Airbnb's designation as a superhost (which recognizes hosts who go above and beyond to provide superior stays) for running the Raven's Nest, a Lord of the Rings-themed tiny home, with her husband Wayde Szumyn next door to their own home. The couple deliver "second breakfast" baskets and fresh cookies, decorate the house with flowers from the garden, supply gumboots and blankets, and light candles for guests arriving late. Nevertheless Irsigler has still strained to satisfy guests, she explains, partly because Airbnb inflates expectations (and that's coming from someone who runs a fantastical Hobbit house). "Guests don't expect cheap and easy accommodations in somebody's home, but a special experience in an outstanding place," she says. "Usually our guests 'get what we do' and love the place, but then there are always some with special demands for more or with somewhat weird wishes. One guest found our trees aren't cut the way he wants trees cut. Another found the knives not sharp enough. [Another] was unhappy the shower curtain touched her. Remembering how Airbnb started, I find the contrast harsh." Irsigler has also been upset by the intensifying competition the company has encouraged between hosts, and finds the designation as a superhost to be a patronizing "pat on the head," she says, "especially when I see how much Airbnb made through us." It's not unreasonable to want privacy during a pandemic. Like many Airbnb users, I've spent more time in whole place rentals than homestays since March, 2020. But I'm concerned that the pandemic has permanently distorted our expectations and reinforced some bad habits, capping a decade-long trend away from chance interactions between travelers and hosts, moments that remind everyone about the human side of travel. Post-pandemic (and post-IPO), Airbnb CEO Brian Chesky is predicting a travel revolution as work, travel, and daily life collapse into one unsettling mixture. Chesky is looking forward to more long-term stays, helping people live-work-travel for months at a time in houses around the world (and rent out their own apartments while they're gone). This is great for digital nomads fleeing cubicles, but maybe not so great for homestay hosts, the ones still trying to help travelers live like a local. Do they have a place in the revolution? Returning rentals to their roots in the sharing economy, putting hosts back in the house, might not prevent landlords from evicting tenants, party houses from annoying neighbors, or management companies from muscling out mom-and-pop renters — but it couldn't hurt. In many cases, it also makes for a better vacation. But the disconnect between renters and hosts isn't on an (ostensible) tech company to fix. It's on guests to choose where to stay, whom to reward with their dollars, how many precious minutes of a trip to devote to connecting with a host, and how much food and drink to accept. It's on us. The pandemic could have signaled the end of the homestay and forever cemented remote management, self check-in, and full-house rentals as the norm. It didn't, any more than it permanently eradicated offices, movie theaters, or restaurants. All of these spaces will look different after the pandemic, but their core elements endure. In the case of the vacation rental, that throughline is hospitality. We all just have to remember what it looks like. Ana Matsusaki is an illustrator living in Brazil. |
| The Best Gifts for Cocktail Enthusiasts Posted: 29 Nov 2021 07:30 AM PST  "Soul Palate" podcast hosts Kapri Robinson and Denaya Jones-Reid recommend the best gifts for the spirits lover on your list Due to either enduring months of closed bars or merely a wide availability of drinks expertise to draw from, it seems like more people are getting into making cocktails at home. And if you have a friend who greets you with an expertly made margarita or Negroni when you pop around, you may be interested in feeding their hobby with the perfect holiday gift. You could, of course, take a trip to the liquor store for a bottle of whatever their preferred spirit may be, but there's a whole host of other items that make excellent gifts for the cocktail and spirits enthusiast. For those ideas, I turned to Kapri Robinson and Denaya Jones-Reid who, as the hosts of the podcast Soul Palate, spend a lot of time thinking about cocktails. Robinson, a member of 2021's Eater New Guard, is also the co-founder of cocktail competition Chocolate City's Best, and Jones-Reid is the content curator at Chocolate City's Best as well as the founder of Deestilled, which provides cocktail catering and education, and the director of operations for craft spirits retailer Seelbach's. As they taste spirits and discuss how they navigate the hospitality industry, the podcast hosts aim to "normalize the Black and brown palate." "We avoid sticking to the Eurocentric wheelhouse, the words that we've already been provided across the industry in terms of how to taste things and really just speak from a place of actual experience," Jones-Reid says. "We wanted to show that there's lots of different ways to experience spirits, and that there's no wrong answer to say what you're tasting," adds Robinson. Whether you're looking for a gift for the cocktail novice or the seasoned hobbyist, here's what they recommend giving this year. For sippingFor stirringClear Ice MakersEven the person who seemingly has everything is unlikely to have a clear ice maker, which controls the way ice freezes to produce large, clear ice cubes that won't melt too quickly. Robinson says bar guests are consistently amazed at seeing crystal-clear ice in a cocktail. "Having clear ice at home is always just a plus," says Robinson. "It's everything. It makes your pictures better, and even if you're hosting your friends, having clear ice really steps it up a notch." She recommends two different ice makers, depending on your giftee's preference for cubes versus spheres. Vintage GlasswareRobinson recommends heading to your local thrift store for some beautiful vintage glassware. "It's nice because there are usually unique pieces that you don't really see a lot of," she says. And when it comes to what kind of glassware to seek out, Robinson and Jones-Reid agree: Coupes make a great gift. "I keep an assortment of coupes in my house," Jones-Reid says. "I'm over flutes." Robinson believes the best-looking coupes are the vintage ones found in thrift stores, and they're versatile. "You can use coupes for Champagne, daiquiris, martinis, Manhattans, wine, even water if you really want to," Robinson says. The hosts also recommend seeking out some cute tasting glasses. "The trend is shifting from just throwing back shots to actually appreciating spirits," Jones-Reid says. The friend who may have once collected shot glasses while on vacation could likely use a set of more elegant tasting glasses. "Stemmed, stemless, it doesn't matter. I have different tasting glasses for different occasions." If you strike out locally, fear not; vintage glassware also abounds on the internet. The Instagram account @cute.sips is dedicated to showcasing and selling vintage glassware. Rosemary Home has an excellent selection that includes some very pretty options for both coupes and aperitif glasses. And there's always Etsy. |
| Eater Names Stephanie Wu as Executive Editor Posted: 29 Nov 2021 07:07 AM PST  The lifestyle veteran joins Vox Media from Condé Nast Traveler Today Eater named Stephanie Wu as Executive Editor. Wu will oversee the editorial organization, including all writers, editors, and video creators. She'll be a key partner to Eater's EIC and SVP Amanda Kludt on building upon the publication's editorial excellence and supporting the business and growth of the Eater brand. "We have so many ambitions for Eater to evolve and grow as a leader in food journalism and are thrilled to have such a talented and thoughtful leader help us achieve those ambitions," says Kludt. "Stephanie is a seasoned journalist who understands the nitty gritty of reporting and editing but also has the vision to lead us to the next phase." Wu will lead a team of over 60 writers, editors, and video creators across 25 cities in North America and the UK, leading the vision for the publication's reporting and storytelling. She'll work in partnership with Eater's GM, VP of Development, and Director of Operations to align editorial initiatives with brand, business, and audience goals. Wu comes from Condé Nast Traveler, where she was the digital director. She previously held editorial roles at Town & Country, Travel + Leisure, and Mic, overseeing lifestyle topics including food, travel, and culture. She is also the author of The Roommates: True Tales of Friendship, Rivalry, Romance, and Disturbingly Close Quarters (Picador). She grew up in Taipei, Taiwan, and now lives in New York City. |
| A Tender Cardamom Coconut Sweet Potato Bread Recipe That Tastes Like the Holiday Season Posted: 29 Nov 2021 06:25 AM PST  Pumpkin may have a hold on fall festivities, but sweet potatoes deserve their rightful spot at the table too There is no denying the hold the pumpkin spice everything has on American food culture during the fall. From lattes to cookies to ice cream to….kettle corn, pumpkin has taken over as the ingredient that people reach for to bring a bit of autumn festivity into their lives. But growing up as a Black child, pumpkin never really had much sway in my family's home, and as an adult, it still doesn't. During the holidays, there is absolutely no way you'll ever see a pumpkin pie — or anything pumpkin — on our dining table. Instead, that treasured dessert designation is held by the unassuming sweet potato, which we bake into pies, cakes and even rolls. This bread is my homage to the root vegetable that holds such a special place in my heart, both culturally and as a new mom. Sweet potato puree is the very first solid food I ever fed my baby girl, and this recipe is inspired by one of the meals I made in order to introduce her to new flavors. In an effort to keep her meals interesting, and her palate hopefully on the more adventurous side, I decided to simmer sweet potato chunks in creamy coconut milk along with a few crushed cardamom pods for flavor. She loved them, and after tasting them, I did too. It made me think about what an amazing bread these flavors would make, especially with the holidays approaching. After a few failed attempts, I finally came up with a workable recipe that tastes like everything I love about sweet potatoes and the holiday season. The loaf's tender crumb has an unmistakably floral note thanks to the cardamom, while the coconut milk adds a touch of nuttiness. With a few pinches of cinnamon, nutmeg and allspice, it's a treat that works just as well in the morning with a strong cup of coffee (or a pumpkin latte if you absolutely must) as it does as a dessert. It also holds up in the freezer if you want to prepare it in advance and drop a few loaves off to family and friends. So while pumpkin may keep its strong hold on the fall, I'll be enjoying this festive bread — and all things sweet potato — now and for the rest of the year. Cardamom Coconut Sweet Potato Loaf RecipeMakes 1 9x5-inch loaf Ingredients:1 good-sized sweet potato (about ¾ pound) Instructions:Step 1: Peel the sweet potato and cut it into large cubes. Place it in a saucepan and add the coconut milk. Bring the mixture to a boil, then reduce the heat until it's just high enough to maintain a good simmer. Cook uncovered, stirring a couple of times, until the sweet potato chunks are very soft and starting to break down, and the coconut milk is reduced to a thick glaze, about 25 minutes. Set aside to cool slightly. Step 2: While the sweet potato cools, preheat the oven to 325 degrees. Coat a 9x5-inch loaf pan with nonstick spray or butter and flour. Step 3: In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, apple pie spice, cardamom, and cinnamon. Set aside. Step 4: When the potatoes have cooled, transfer them to a mixing bowl (or use a large bowl with a hand mixer) and whip until they break down to form a smooth, soft puree. Add the sugars, oil, eggs, and vanilla, and whip until smooth, scraping down the sides as needed. Step 5: Add the dry ingredients, and mix on a low speed until well incorporated and no streaks or lumps remain (do not overmix). Step 6: Pour the batter into the prepared pan and smooth the top. Bake until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean, 60-70 minutes. Allow the loaf to cool in the pan for at least 20 minutes (or until cool enough to handle easily), then turn it out onto a rack and cool fully before slicing. Note: If you don't have apple pie spice, just use ¼ teaspoon cinnamon, ⅛ teaspoon nutmeg and ⅛ teaspoon allspice. Ryan Shepard is an Atlanta-based food and spirits writer. She loves Mexican food, bourbon and New Orleans. |
| You are subscribed to email updates from Eater - All. To stop receiving these emails, you may unsubscribe now. | Email delivery powered by Google |
| Google, 1600 Amphitheatre Parkway, Mountain View, CA 94043, United States | |
No comments:
Post a Comment