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…
– Friends, let me tell you something: steroids are terrible. Many of you are probably wondering why a perfect physical specimen such as myself would need to resort to steroids in the first place. After all, my body is temple (albeit one dedicated to sloth and cupcakes). The answer is, simply, brain surgery. Steroids are commonly given…
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…
Bavarian food doesn’t f#ck around. Bavarian food is the guy at the gym in the tiny muscle tee who’s lifting weights so heavy, the veins in his neck and head (and other parts of the body that you didn’t even know HAD veins) start to pop out. Bavaria‘s cuisine is a monster truck. It crumples…
– We weren’t cool enough for The Woodsman Tavern, and we knew it. We’d found ourselves at the Portland restaurant at the recommendation of our friend Matt. We’d tried to go to Broder, but it was a Sunday morning and they were mobbed. Matt explained that The Woodsman had just started serving breakfast. We could…
– 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…
– Munich was sunlit and warm when we visited a few weeks ago. So warm, in fact, that Rand and I – along with hundreds of other folks – were able to eat lunch outside at Viktualienmarkt downtown (I believe we were at the Schlemmermaier Sausage Stand, a name I cannot read, much less say,…
Tales of Food, Feminism, and Fury
by Geraldine DeRuiter
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