COLUMNISTS 
“We can’t live without the goose prosciutto,” says David Remnick, with all the avidity of a malnourished gourmand. He is 6ft 1in, approaching 50 and lean for a journalist known to be something of a foodie. He has suggested we meet at Esca, an Italian restaurant in midtown Manhattan, whose name means “bait” and whose allure, it seems, is not just its food. Its fish-obsessed chef David Pasternack was the subject of a profile in 2005 in The New Yorker, the magazine where Remnick will this week celebrate his 10th anniversary as editor.
