My family members do not always understand me. I feel like a foreign exchange student in their homes – I’m most definitely welcome, but damn it, I’m strange. My accent is funny. I don’t eat pasta daily. I don’t have several gallons of sauce sitting in my freezer, in the event that we might have…
I love New York. I’ve visited enough times that the magic, really, should have worn off by now. I’ve gotten horribly lost on the subway (I once ended up in Queens), watched someone rip off my cab after I ran half a block to hail it, and had the girl at Zabar’s Cafe let my…
(Yesterday I told the tale of how I visited the Statue of Liberty. This post continues where that one left off, as I made my way from Liberty Island to Ellis.) I’d be remiss if I told you about my visit to Ellis and Liberty Islands and neglected to note how I almost royally messed…
(Note: Due to length, I’ve split up my coverage of the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island into two posts. Part 1 covers the Statue of Liberty, and Part 2 will be published tomorrow, and will cover Ellis Island. Enjoy.) ————— – I am not one to feel emotionally moved very often. This is probably…
Last month, we spent a few days in New York before heading to Boston. The weather cooperated, the cupcakes were plentiful, and I remembered why one of my favorite cities in the world is precisely that. Here are ten photos from our adventures in Manhattan. The theater district, afternoon sun. – – Kissing in Times…
My cousin’s village in Italy is a relic of the sort you rarely see outside of Indiana Jones movies or PBS-programs narrated by David McCullough. It winds up a hill, dotted with ancient stone houses, now conveniently equipped with electricity and spotty hot water. The local children, carrying heavy monikers of saints or artists, call to one…
It is midnight right now on the east coast, and I am way too excited to even think about sleeping. And while there are plenty of other posts which I should, chronologically at least, get to first, I have to tell you about this evening. Because tonight, I did something that I had never done…
Ugh. I might have overdone it on cupcakes when I was last in New York. I know: those words sound blasphemous, don’t they? Even as I try to type them, my fingers burn a little. If I attempt to utter the phrase, “I’ve had too many cupcakes” out loud, it sears my throat. Clearly, my…
– I owe my husband a thank you. Without him, I might have gotten cholera, or bed bugs, or lord knows what else.
Tales of Food, Feminism, and Fury
by Geraldine DeRuiter
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