A Toast to Toast!

If you know me, you already know about my love affair with toast. This romance started for me as a child in Louisiana. We had toast, not so much for breakfast – although occasionally it was part of breakfast (or it became French Toast) – but instead for after-school snacking, accompanied by coffee-milk (a glass half-filled with coffee and the other half milk). We usually … Continue reading A Toast to Toast!

New Orleans: A fête for the nostrils

Whether I’m writing about the Cajun towns of my youth (Eunice and Ville Platte) or the cities I’ve lived in since (Baton Rouge, Lafayette, New Orleans, Brussels, London, Warsaw, New York), I find that the best way to get to the true essence of a place is to describe how it smells. Exhibit A: New Orleans. To be sure, the sights, sounds, and tastes are … Continue reading New Orleans: A fête for the nostrils

Don’t call me “foodie.”

It’s true: I love food (some of my best friends eat it) and love to cook (unless it’s done under duress), and love trying new restaurants, and new items at old restaurants, and all that jazz, but the term “foodie” irks me. I know it’s a handy shortcut of a description, but to me, it comes across as flippant or sarcastic, even. And it’s often … Continue reading Don’t call me “foodie.”