I will probably forget the name of the brunch place we went to in Marais. I’ve forgotten it three times already, each and every time you told it to me, until you finally emailed me with the message “Don’t lose me.” – You meant the restaurant name, of course, but somehow I read it as…
I’m taking a brief reprieve from my tales of Paris to tell you about a French Bakery … in Vancouver. I’ll get back to the city of light tomorrow. – I am standing on a street corner in a dodgy part of Vancouver, British Columbia, on the verge of a hunger-induced meltdown. I’m blaming Oli.…
– Today we are going to talk about eclairs. Because my blog tackles the tough issues. But first, let me tell you about one of my earliest memories. It is, depending on how you look at it, equal parts tragic and wonderful. When I was a wee little Everywhereist (back during a time when a…
For many years, I didn’t really get macarons. – {For those who have devoted less of their waking hours to the study, acquisition, and consumption of baked goods, I would like to take a brief moment to delineate French “macarons” from “macaroons”. While it is, essentially, the same word (one is the French variant, the…
– I never, ever thought I’d tire of eating French food, but at some point during our short jaunt I realized that I could not eat another duck confit. To be fair, this was less about being sick of duck confit and more about wanting to fit into the trousers I had brought with me.…
The first time Rand and I visited Sydney, we ate at the Opera House restaurant (at the invitation of conference organizers). Our meal was absurdly posh and beautiful. Later, every one of us who partook in the oysters at dinner (myself, and a few other miserable souls) got a wicked case of food poisoning. As…
I know, I know. You guys were probably expecting the exciting conclusion of yesterday’s post, in which I tell you all about snorkeling in the Great Barrier Reef, and also whether or not there were kittens. Unfortunately, I realized that all those photos are still on Rand’s laptop, and I’m currently overcome with a strong…
– Food on Hayman Island was absurdly expensive. I plan on writing an entire post about it, but it actually causes me physical pain to think about the prices of our meals there, so I’m procrastinating on that.
– To this day, I have fond memories of my English class senior year of high school. Even though it was (ahem) a little while ago, I remember it acutely. Our teacher was a gentleman named Mr. Willems, who remains to this day one of the best instructors I’ve ever had. He was fond of…
Tales of Food, Feminism, and Fury
by Geraldine DeRuiter
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