Tin Fork
Just came off the mountain. Been dreaming of sitting down, taking a load off, slurping the first gulp of cawfee. Got a mountainous appetite. On the other hand, this morning has been totally exhilarating, climbing …
The waves crash as if this were an episode of Poldark. Sun and spume glint through the colored plastic surfboard sculptures, here at IB’s Portwood Pier Plaza. “So I’m still looking,” says Kevin. We’re meeting …
Hey hey! Holiday season’s here and da geese are getting fat, but I’m here for chicken necks, my yuletide snack. So good to be in TJ again. I know. Not the best timing. But it’s …
‘Body Butter,” says the sample the guy’s handing out. “Free application,” he says. “Step inside.” So La Jolla. “Not now,” I say. Truth is, I’m desperate for brekky. And also, I wanna to try this …
Autumn in Paris! I’m in a French-feeling patio with about eight wood-slat tables under a big tree. Fall leaves saucer down in the breeze. We’re in the Gaslamp’s Chinatown area at 3rd and Island. “The …
Four men sit heads-down in the middle of a card game. Two of them hold dead cigars in their card hand. They’re speaking Italian. “What’s the game?” “Scopa,” says the gent with the merry face. …
I’m standing staring out to sea along with maybe fifty people here where the Del segues into beach. We’re on the brink of sunset. And what a sunset. For sure, it’s the wildfires causing it. …
What is going on up here? This is Chollas View-Mount Hope. Guess I’ve been looking for ribs in all the wrong places, heh heh. We’re talking Market Street in the 4200 area. Trundling east in …
I swear. Thought I knew Barrio Logan. I’m wandering down Beardsley to where it gets more industrial. Right where Newton Avenue crosses, by Perkins Elementary School, I spot a sandwich board. Huh. A kind of …
Are we running out of tuna? Standing here in Poke Etc, in the middle of National City’s Highland View Center, I’m starting to wonder. Little signs on the counter say they’re going to have to …
To understand a cuisine, you’ve got to look around. That is, look at the countryside of an area. Like Issan cooking. These people live in the not -so-fertile crescent of Thailand’s northeast. The land doesn’t …
‘Cher was born here,” says Sonny. “Right, Lawrence?” Lawrence lifts up his aristocratic, bloodhound-wrinkled face and nods. “Her dad was a truck driver.” We’re standing in the muggy heat of an El Centro Greyhound depot. …
It’s black. It’s a fungus. It’s a disease. It’s delicious. I know because I’m sinking my fangs into a torta that’s drooling with it: huitlacoche. That’s a Nahuatl name meaning “sleeping excrescence.” It grows on …
"You can see forever!” says Mag. We’ve just got out of her car. Wind sifts up from the San Luis Rey river, snaking through the valley below. Interstate 15 swoops towards us like a gigantic …