Wherever I live I learn to adapt. Whether north, south, east or west I’m willing and eager to embrace local ways. I’ll try calling soda pop. The term fixin’ to becomes part of my everyday vocabulary. I have not, however, been able to call a sandwich on an oblong bun anything other than a hoagie, …
My husband and I spent some time in Austria last month. To be completely honest we went to Austria because we were looking for the cheapest and easiest way to get close to Hungary. Budapest was my real goal. However once we experienced the beauty, history and food of Austria we considered ourselves lucky to …
I was at a party, chatting with a fascinating woman who had lived all over Asia. We could have talked about a million different things but the conversation immediately went to food…naturally. She regaled me with stories of street food and chili crab and I sat there, slack jawed in awe of her culinary adventures. …
If NYC has thousands of pizza places you’d think there would be enough for everyone and never a line out the door or a two hour wait for a slice. You thought wrong. There’s probably really only 50 or so that have cult followings, and then perhaps 10 or so that are considered to be, …
The story of the NY Jewish deli is much like the story of NY itself, which is to say, one of immigrants. German immigrants to be exact. Around the turn of the century New York was heavily German. They brought with them their sausages (frankfurters that they sold on the street…the original hot dog cart), …
Beach season is upon us again. I sit here, sunburned from head to toe as I write. The hubby isn’t what you’d call a fan of beach. Let me rephrase that. He’s not a big fan of non-tropical beaches. He loves boat drinks and lounging by the pool. He loves sailing and scuba diving. He’s …
New Orleans is the type of city that epitomizes the phrase, “It’s a nice place to visit but I wouldn’t want to live there”. The hubby has been there a few times. I’ve only been once, with him and a group of friends a few years back, and I feel like I’m still recovering from …
Damn those reality cooking shows. Must they be so shamefully addictive. I know I’m not alone in my obsession with cooking shows, but that doesn’t make it right. I could be reading or playing tennis or volunteering my time to a needy cause, but no, I’m sitting on the couch, glued to the TV, wondering …
Nick and I are rekindling our romance with Italian cuisine. We have an on again off again relationship with cuisine from the boot. We adore it when we’re there. Eating until it hurts. Then we come back to the states and have a few bad Italian American experiences (I’m recalling more than a few soup-like …
There we were. Sitting on a curb outside what I could only assume was an old gas station, waiting for our fried chicken. No, let me rephrase that, we were actually waiting for hot chicken. It’s different. Hot chicken is a Nashville specialty, and as the name suggests, it packs some heat. We first encountered …