Getting my goat.

Getting my goat.

Maybe it all started way back in the New Testament. This aversion people have to goats. Check out Matthew 25:32 and you’ll find: And before him shall be gathered all nations: and he shall separate them one from another, as a shepherd divideth his sheep from the goats:...
An open and shut case for these mussels.

An open and shut case for these mussels.

It’s not easy being a musselholic in the middle of a desert. It’s not so much that the restaurants serving mussels come and go. It’s that mussels come and go on their menus. I just tallied up the number of San Miguel restaurants whose mussels I’ve praised in the nine...
Bringing India to San Miguel. Every Friday.

Bringing India to San Miguel. Every Friday.

It had already become a tradition when I lived in London in the late seventies. “Fancy some Indian after the pub closes?” “Pick up some Indian on the way home, please, love.” “Why don’t I just run out and get some Indian; Spurs are on Match of the Day.” It was one of...
I thought the last thing San Miguel needed was another pizzeria.

I thought the last thing San Miguel needed was another pizzeria.

And then I went to Marco’s. Well it’s not really called Marco’s. The actual name of the restaurant is Fiamma. But it seems everyone is calling it Marco’s so I’m calling it Marco’s. And why are they and I calling it Marco’s? It’s because the restaurant is a total...
Overheard. In Casa Blanca.

Overheard. In Casa Blanca.

I took Don Day’s Wife out for a very memorable lunch recently and, as I often do, I also took my tiny spiral-bound notebook that fits in the back pocket of my jeans. As usual, a lot of what I wrote down were Don Day’s Wife’s comments about the food and the experience....
Fee. Fi. Fo. Fum. I smell a pho that’s not ho hum.

Fee. Fi. Fo. Fum. I smell a pho that’s not ho hum.

Don Day’s Wife and I divide our lives almost equally between Toronto and San Miguel de Allende, two, obviously, very different cities. But what we eat in each of those cities varies very little. With one very big exception. In Toronto, a week rarely goes by where we...

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