“The pancakes you make with yogurt, the waffles with buttermilk.” I can’t remember much about the moment my grandmother said this, but I remember her: …
I wonder if Eckhart Tolle has ever eaten a sandwich. A muffuletta, perhaps, pulsing with Genoa salami, maple ham, mortadella (for exotic flair), piquant giardiniera, …
Sometimes, we forget how much the pricing on a menu affects our enjoyment of a restaurant experience — never mind how good the food actually is.
Our obsession with stimulation has turned our dining experiences into something almost theatrical. But what about the intimate meal?
The health food industry could benefit from a little experience selling. My introduction to the world of soda is a prime example of how magical this strategy can be.
While there has long been debate about the best garnish for a martini, there is really only one correct choice.
A dilapidated dream finds new life in a wholly unlikely place. With coffee.
Aw, nuts. The forgettable root of so much creativity, and the start of some seriously proud innovation.
Food was once about satisfying others. Now, it saves me from my own self-destructive tendencies.
Parties are awful. I must credit them for something, however: A deeper look at what makes me, well, me.
A vignette at Christmas