Note: The steroids are still in my system, and consequently I am still talking about food. And Vegas. Bear with me, kids. – I am a 31-year-old woman of reasonable intelligence (even after my brain surgery, I feel this latter comment is safe to say). I would like to think that most of my tastes…
My favorite thing about travel is that you can often discover the most amazing meals in the most unexpected of places. And I don’t mean the discovery of a candied peanut at the bottom of my bag in a hotel room in Bulgaria. (For the record, Rand wouldn’t let me eat the peanut, which I…
I know it’s not technically Friday, but I’m hungry and thinking about food right now, so time means nothing to me. – There are statements I never thought I’d say. But after enough travel, I’ve started saying them. To a maintenance man in a New York city hotel: “Oh no, I’m happy to plunge my…
– I have given up trying to get to Patisserie Valerie, which everyone and their brother tells me is the best bakery/dessert chain in London. Maybe it is. I wouldn’t know. Every time I’ve tried to grab a seat at their shops, I’ve been treated like one of the following: a leper some sort of…
When I am hungry while traveling, things go downhill very quickly. I become snappy and irritable and overly-sensitive. In a town like Munich, this can be problematic, because German isn’t exactly a delicate sounding language to begin with. Even when folks are being courteous (which they often are in Bavaria), I want to respond to them in one…
– Pok Pok, for a lot of people in the northwest, is probably old news. When I first visited it a little over a year ago at the recommendation of my friend Jessica, it was still relatively obscure. The repetitive name did not hang on the lips of northwest foodies like a whisper to a…
– A friend of mine once told me about the time she chaperoned a group of teenagers on a trip to China. After arriving in Beijing, the kids, once so excited for their trip, had a bit of a breakdown. Many of them had never been outside of the U.S. Most of them hadn’t been…
– People are constantly marveling at my sense of sense of smell, which I find rather amusing. I tap my large and glorious nose, smile, and say, “What, you think this thing is just for show?” And while my memory is fading a bit on precisely how we ended up at Bubo, a high end…
I loved carnivals in my youth. I loved the way cheap outdoor lighting reflected onto hay cast that world in sepia tones. I loved the smell of the air – of grease and old wood and cotton candy. There would be twinkling lights, and music, and rides. Enormous, horribly-constructed stuffed animals hung above the rigged…
Tales of Food, Feminism, and Fury
by Geraldine DeRuiter
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