Tag Archives: food

450. NYC Photo Journal: In search of culinary perfection: From arepas to donuts

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The other day I treated myself to a manicure in a place where there is a small high def television at every nail drying station. In addition, the salon has a huge screen; all televisions are tuned to The Food Network. There are a  dozen or so lovely ladies with wet nails drooling over Paula Dean’s presentations, or Bobby Flay’s. I happened to hit Bobby on a good day: he was challenging the owner of Caracas Arepa Bar to a “Throwdown” challenge. Who can make the better arepas? Caracas won. Sorry, Mr. Bobby the Foodie Ego. You can’t beat this … Continue reading →

583. NYC Photo Journal: 5-5-12 Brooklyn, NY

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Part 1: The New York Times review made me do it. If you click on the review and give a read you will learn what is typically New York City. To wit: David’s Brisket House and Deli is in the Bedford-Stuyvesant section of Brooklyn. Once majestic it became blighted and crestfallen and was in no way a place you’d care to visit. But, like most areas of New York City in marginal areas, it is becoming–drumroll, cymbals–gentrified, which means the rents and prices of the old staid brownstones will be unaffordable. But this isn’t why I find this eatery so … Continue reading →

5. Poetry: Birthing at Bocuse

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My panic attack in a 5-star restaurant in Lyons.original post 4/13/07 ART&Poetry by author Before our son was born, and because we were teachers and had the time, my husband and I traveled extensively through Europe. Nine summers. I could say, “filler-up” in French,Portuguese, Italian, German, Spanish; but don’t ask me to now. That part of my brain has become a gray viscous puddle.As much as I enjoyed my travels through France, I was always under stress. I studied French for eight years, read the classics, blah, blah, or as Seinfeld would say, “yadda, yadda, yadda,” I would drag old … Continue reading →

2. Poetry: Dim Sum Paradise: Soul Food

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In Flushing, Queens, where reality transcends  time and place.  It is Asia. Easily. How could I ever leave New York? art and poetry©by the author, all rights reserved original entry: 3/28/07 Walk into the Kam-Sen Supermarket and you are in China.  People even use Chinese currency. There is a sea of scaly glistening fresh fish, hot sizzling delicacies, lacquered ducks hang in the window.  Every Asian sauce imaginable is in one of the maybe 10 aisles, every tea, soup, bags of little dried silver fish and shrimp, dessicated chestnuts, frozen confections with ridiculous translated names.  Happy Mouth. You Taste.  Rice … Continue reading →