You’re an old smoothie I’m an old softie I’m just like putty in the hands of a boy like you I’ve always wanted to be called a smoothie. Especially if it came from Ella’s lips. But I’ve never been big on drinking smoothies. I’m not sure why. I guess...
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...
I still read the New York Times. Not every Sunday but some Sundays. And yes, I would still prefer newsprint stains on my fingers, but…well…the electronic version is, not only more convenient, but a helluva lot cheaper. The page with the Times bestseller...
When I knew that a new restaurant had Pozole Verde Guerrero on their menu, I knew I wanted Jack Jacobs as my date. Jack had helped me lose my pozole virginity at La Alborada over on Sollano about ten years ago. And in case you don’t know, a guy introducing you to...
Is there anyone else out there old enough to remember Marlene Dietrich singing that song in Destry Rides Again? I was humming it to myself the other day when Don Day’s Wife and I were having lunch at Chikatana. I was thinking how tough it must be for Aleysha Serrato...
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