By Conor Risch

Jason Fulford may seem like an odd choice of photographer for a cookbook project. His straightforward documentary style runs contrary to today’s brightly lit, carefully arranged food photography. Kenny Shopsin and Carolynn Carreño’s Eat Me: The Food and Philosophy of Kenny Shopsin, is, however, not what you would call a “normal” cookbook. Shopsin is the longtime proprietor of a small New York restaurant that was founded when Shopsin and his wife, Eve, decided to convert their corner grocery store into an eatery so they could cope with a rent hike.

To some, Shopsin is as far from sweet and inviting cookbook stars like Nigella Lawson as one can conceivably get. He is notoriously anti-press and anti-publicity, and he says that doing this book was a compromise of his principles. (The book’s epilogue is titled “The Art of Staying Small.”) Walk into his restaurant, and there’s a decent chance he’ll refuse to serve you: “People who talk on their cell phones in restaurants are assholes,” writes Shopsin of one of his house rules, “and one of the unwritten cardinal rules at Shopsin’s is that I don’t feed assholes. I kick them out just like I throw out bad food.”

Shopsin’s customers, however, are loyal and buy into the atmosphere and experience that Kenny and his family create. Not to mention the food. “A few years back,” Shopsin writes in his book’s prologue, “Melinda [his daughter] posted a sign in front of the restaurant that read, ‘Restaurant for Customers Only.’ That pretty much explains our attitude at Shopsin’s. It’s pretty straightforward, but it also says more than it might seem to.” Fulford’s photographs for the book can be seen as an extension of this attitude and his understanding and experience of it. Fulford is married to designer Tamara Shopsin, who is Kenny’s daughter. “I love collaborating with Tamara,” says Fulford, who has never worked on a cookbook before. “Our sensibilities are really different, but somehow complimentary…. But I was also interested in the project because I love the family and the restaurant.”

Not only did Fulford shoot the finished dishes, ingredients and cooking methods for the recipes, he also documented taco holders, tools, and the signage and toys that decorate the restaurant. His photograph of a piece of garlic bread includes fake vampire teeth that appear to be taking a bite. The extensive “Pancakes and the Lost Art of Griddling” chapter includes a picture of a well-worn griddle scraper, complete with scrapings.

Restaurant-based cookbooks often try to conjur the experience of being at the successful establishment on which they are based, and photographs are key to achieving that goal. Eat Me is no different, but the finished product is as unique a cookbook as you are likely to see. So naturally we had to get in touch with Fulford to talk to him about his part in the process.

How long did you work on the photographs for the book?

We shot off and on for about two months.

What was your method?

Most of the pictures were shot on small seamless backdrops with either natural light or a profoto acuteB and a softbox. We shot about a quarter of the pictures in a makeshift studio in our Brooklyn kitchen. The rest were made at the Essex Market, either in the restaurant itself, or in a makeshift studio in a closet at the market. Almost all of the dishes we shot were eaten afterward. Everytime I see the picture of the cheesey steak I think, “Andy ate that.”

What was the most difficult part of the project from a photography perspective?

The volume. It was brutal—there are over 120 recipes in the book, plus stories and anecdotes. We dealt with each image individually—concept, prop, set-up, etcetera. I think there are over 250 images total.

Did you develop any time-saving techniques that helped you out as you worked?

Yes, we would brainstorm until we had a day’s worth of images to shoot. Then we’d collect the objects, set up the lights and plow through them. In the end we had about twenty days of shooting.

Did you get art direction on the photographs and design in the traditional sense, or did they turn you loose? What were the concepts you were working with?

Tamara and I presented some test shots to Knopf, and they said go for it. Along the way, we received some feedback and a few requests, but it was pretty loose. We wanted to treat each image as a sort of “book cover” for that recipe. Each recipe has a history -- an anecdote or a cooking technique. So Tamara and I made lists of relevant things to each recipe, and then brainstormed on what kind of image would suit it. Kenny had some great ideas too.
    Aesthetically I was really influenced by Paul McCarthy’s book Propo. My friend Corin Hewitt had shown me the book right around the time we were starting this project. It’s a collection of auction-style photographs of various props from McCarthy’s performances. The props are soiled and mangled to say the least, but presented on clean, solid-color backgrounds with simple lighting. Something powerful happens with this juxtaposition. The wear and tear becomes beautiful—and funny—and you start to imagine the life this object has lived. I thought immediately of all the tools in Kenny’s kitchen—griddle scrapers, bacon weights, spatulas, oil thermometers.

What was it about this visual style and juxtaposition that worked for the Shopsin’s book? Was there something definable that you wanted to be sure to capture in the photographs?

Well, the same thing as the McCarthy book. All these objects live daily through intense, messy and violent performances—cutting, scraping, burning, melting, etcetera. When you take the object out of the kitchen environment and present it cleanly-lit on a smooth surface, it becomes a sort of fetish object.
    There are so many objects in the kitchen that are specific to Kenny and how he thinks and cooks. Many of them have been customized, like the caulking gun peanut butter dispenser, or the paint scraper/griddle scraper, or the bacon weight with nautilus weights bolted on for extra heaviness.
    So it began with the idea of presenting these objects. Then we started putting dishes on the seamless, and somehow it worked. In an abstract way it seemed to fit with the sensibility of the restaurant. The background colors, as well as the book design, also reference Kenny’s menu, which he designs himself and changes several times a week.

Do you have a favorite Shopsin's recipe?

I’d never tried the mac n’ cheese pancakes before this project, and now I’m hooked. I also love Kenny’s onion rings.