Spoiler: We eat spiders. If you do not want to see photos of this, then you may want to read another post. (May I suggest this one? It’s about the best cupcakes I’ve ever had. It’s totally safe and spider-free.) On our last night in Phnom Penh, we had dinner at Romdeng. Nicci had read wonderful…
I would like to take a moment to talk about durian. I have to. I have spent the larger part of the morning working on a post about the Khmer Rouge, and I very much need a mental break, and talking about stinky fruit will allow for that to happen. So. Durian. The stuff is…
It is very, very hard to find a good, reasonably priced meal in Amalfi. Most places we went to were subpar. They could afford to be – they’d have a steady stream of tourists coming in regardless of the quality of the food. There were a few more restaurants that were staggeringly well-reviewed, but also…
We should have learned from our experience back in Frigento that Google Maps could not be trusted in Southern Italy, but it was around the time we reached Positano that the lesson hit home. We’d spent the better part of the afternoon looking for a restaurant that Rand had read about, and found that…
This was the interior dining room at the Hotel Santa Caterina. We ate breakfast here only once, when a light rain was falling.
I suppose I should have warned Rand. Honestly, though, I thought he knew. That is why I didn’t lean over and whisper, “Pace yourself. There are four more courses to go.” I mean, why else are they called primi and secondi? They are referring to courses. What they don’t really mention in Italian restaurants…
The first time I saw this thing outside my dad’s house, I sort of snickered. – I remember staring at it, thinking, “Good heavens, that’s just awful. Whatever it is.” And then I pretty much ignored it, except to cast a sideways glance in its direction every time I passed. Now I realize, like nearly…
It’s a little distressful when your favorite restaurant in Munich topples from the pedestal on which you’ve placed it. It’s like when you encounter your first love again, years after the fact. You find that his voice is higher than you remember, or his eyes lack that trademark twinkle, and you start to wonder: did…
Things never seem to turn out how I imagine they will. I don’t know if it’s because my expectations are too lofty, or if they aren’t lofty enough. But on some trips, things don’t quite fall into place. Nothing is how I envisioned it to be. Later, I scroll through my photos and find that…
Tales of Food, Feminism, and Fury
by Geraldine DeRuiter
Available Now!
In Hardback, e-book, and audiobook from these booksellers:
