Life here is like a hurricane, here in Duckburg. Race cars, lasers, and aeroplanes, it's a duck blur. A duck blur is exactly what I experienced at Hawkers on 14th street. Oh, by the way, if you didn't know what the hell the first two sentences were, here is youtube to help you out...
After two months of being a parent, I can say that it doesn't get any easier! The food blogging pretty much has stopped but it's nice to take...
After two months of being a parent, I can say that it doesn't get any easier! The food blogging pretty much has stopped but it's nice to take...
After two months of being a parent, I can say that it doesn't get any easier! The food blogging pretty much has stopped but it's nice to take...
After two months of being a parent, I can say that it doesn't get any easier! The food blogging pretty much has stopped but it's nice to take...
With social networking surrounding us day and night, sometimes it's hard to run out of things to say. Between blogging, twitter, facebook, tumblr, and god knows what else, the options are endless. In the end, social media is marked by the things you cannot say as opposed to the things you can say, and how easy it is to say it. When it comes to diets, it's all too easy to be shaped by restrictions in what one can eat. Sometimes it's the things you can't say and the foods you're not supposed to be eating that truly shape or haunt you. There probably aren't many dieters...
After two months of being a parent, I can say that it doesn't get any easier! The food blogging pretty much has stopped but it's nice to take...
After two months of being a parent, I can say that it doesn't get any easier! The food blogging pretty much has stopped but it's nice to take...
Happy New Year! That gets old after a while so this will be my official post to wish everyone well in 2009. It should be a great year full of good eats like burgers, cupcakes, pizzas, and of course, cookies. The cookie you see here is from Trois Pommes Patisserie in Park Slope Brooklyn. Sometimes people say that a certain food item was a revelation, as if it could transcend the boundaries of food and change your life. This didn't exactly happen, but I did have a revelation while I ate the cookie. It's not exactly the same, you see. Revelation number one. Holy shit, $2.50 for ONE...
One star. Two star. Three star. Four star. How many stars would a New York Times food critic give tothe New York Times cafeteria? That's a question I really would love to find out. A few weeks ago my friend John, who works at the giant that is "all the news that's fit to print," signed me into the new-ish New York Times building on 8th Avenue, and we had a go at the cafeteria. First thing's first...