The New York Times reported today that "Johnny" has died.
Obit from the Times; free registration required.
A few key paragraphs:
R.. W. Apple Jr., who in more than 40 years as a correspondent and editor at The New York Times wrote about war and revolution, politics and government, food and drink, and the revenge of living well from more than 100 countries, died early this morning in Washington. He was 71.
The cause was complications of thoracic cancer.
With his Dickensian byline, Churchillian brio and Falstaffian appetites, Mr. Apple, who was known as Johnny, was a singular presence at The Times almost from the moment he joined the metropolitan staff in 1963. He remained a colorful figure as new generations of journalists around him grew more pallid, and his encyclopedic knowledge, grace of expression — and above all his expense account — were the envy of his competitors, imitators and peers.
Mr. Apple enjoyed a career like no other in the modern era of The Times. He was the paper’s bureau chief in Albany, Lagos, Nairobi, Saigon, Moscow, London and Washington. He covered 10 presidential elections and more than 20 national nominating conventions. He led The Times’s coverage of the Vietnam war for two and a half years in the 1960’s and of the Persian Gulf war a generation later and he chronicled the Iranian revolution in between.
Apple's last article appeared on September 30, when he was still alive:
Singapore has produced a raft of gifted chefs of Chinese or Malay background. One of the best is Jereme Leung, an apostle of updated Cantonese cooking, now at the celebrated Whampoa Club in Shanghai; another is Jimmy Chok, currently doing private catering between public engagements. He cooked lunch for my wife, Betsey, and me at a friend’s apartment, and we tasted nothing better on that visit than his hot seared scallops with prawn ravioli and clam laksa leaf nage, a subtle melody of marine flavors.
Sam Leong, the son of a Malaysian chef called the “King of Shark’s Fin,” is the genius overseeing, through executive chefs, two elegant restaurants owned by the Tung Lok Group. At Jade, a bamboo-filled, high-ceilinged room in the Fullerton Hotel (once the General Post Office), we ate a trio of delicate dim sum flavored with chili, ginger and coriander. That was just the beginning of a pretty parade of treats, including crab with pink peppercorns; the most meltingly delicious homemade tofu you could imagine, served with spinach; a shimmering lemongrass gelée; sweet-potato pudding, deep-fried into finger shapes, and exquisite chrysanthemum tea.
At My Humble House, a misnomer if ever there was one, Mr. Leong pursues his passion for ever-lighter, ever-fresher versions of Chinese classics. A glamorous space within the Esplanade, Singapore’s new performing arts center — popular name, “the Durian,” after the smelly fruit — it combines high-backed chairs, floating fabric panels and dazzling lighting effects. A platter of crisp duck skin came with tiny crepes and a spicy dipping sauce: a leaner, meaner Peking duck. Another memorable dish, labeled “Dancing With the Wind,” a steaming soup containing crab, prawns, scallops, mushrooms and (surprise!) red dates in a gentle coconut broth, arrived in a young coconut. “Drifting Clouds of the Autumn Sky” turned out to be fried green tea dumplings.
Singapore: A Repressed City-State? Not in Its Kitchens.
As a voracious reader of the Times for over 40 years, I knew Apple best from his articles, some wonderfully written and filled with keen insights, some abysmally written and filled with errors of facts and judgment.
But my best memory was of a seedy "bar" in Teheran -- a tiny little room where a few Westerners were permitted to gather and drink booze -- this would have been a few months before the fall of the Shah.
Apple was alone and he insisted that I come by his table and drink my Coke with him. For six hours, Johnny and Bob spent a wonderful time telling each other stories, debating political and warfare matters, teaching and learning about various new weapons the US was pitching to the Shah, and drinking three or four different wines that he had somehow tucked into a large briefcase. I wish I had made note of the wines -- this was well before I cared much about wine -- but they were absolutely terrific. And Apple was even better.
A bigger than life personality -- that is for sure.
Regards, Bob
