I saw this sketch in a little kiosk that sold old maps, postcards, and prints in the center of Rome: – Lovely, right? I kind of wish I had bought it. But mostly, when I look at it, I can’t help but think of this: – Still, those chariot drivers must have needed something to…
– You know that old joke about heaven and hell? How in heaven, the police are British, the engineers are German, the cooks are Italian, the lovers are French? And how in hell, the roles are jumbled up? The police are German, the cooks are British, and, perhaps most cruelly of all, the bureaucrats are…
We are sitting in a restaurant in Rome. The Peroni Brewery Restaurant, to be exact. Shockingly, it is neither touristy, nor overpriced, nor terrible, but it is overrun with locals and the staff is gruff and rushed. My aunt, uncle, and cousin have come to meet us for a day in Rome, and my aunt…
While down in Portland a few weeks ago, I met the lovely Jessica from WhyGoItaly. I can easily attest to her awesomeness (and I swear, even if she didn’t read my blog I would do so). She gave me some tips about our trip to Italy (which were profoundly helpful – but that, as they…
As I noted last week, Tom Critchlow is currently in Seattle, and our home has never been happier, nor more reminiscent of a Justin Bieber concert (seriously, we’re screaming and running around like pre-pubescent girls. We’re a little crazy right now). After noting that there are a few common, innocent phrases that don’t translate well…
I make bad decisions. This should surprise no one, myself included. There was the time I attempted to make it to Greenwich (and subsequently learned that Greenwich and North Greenwich are two distinct places). Or the time I thought that this outfit was a good idea. The point is? I do dumb things. But at…
– A few years ago, we were having dinner with some of Rand’s colleagues. When we were trying to decide what to order, one of the gentleman suggested we share food. “After all, I’m from New York, where life is a shared experience.” I wanted to hug him. I feel the same way: I love…
Recently, I met up with travel blogger (redacted), who was visiting Seattle with her mom. They were both in town from (redacted), because (redacted) had a (redacted). Sigh. Let’s just call her “Redacted,” okay? And her mom can be Sue. That’s going to make this all a lot easier. (Also, names have been redacted for…
I would be remiss if I wrote about Bulgaria and didn’t mention Paris. – Um, no. Not that Paris. Try again. – Yup. That’s him. I didn’t actually ask him whether or not I could use his photo on the blog, so I figured I’d give him a mustache, making him slightly harder to identify.…
Tales of Food, Feminism, and Fury
by Geraldine DeRuiter
Available Now!
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