Tin Fork
“We do have what’s called ‘breakfast,’ for eating in the evening after prayers, breaking the fast.”
Skull Creek: I’m bouncing past in a 955 when I spot it. Want to yell “Stop the bus!” Instead I just pull the cord and wait while we cruise another country mile up this long …
“My family were dairy people from the Azores. We adore things like cheeses and anchovies.”
‘Listen,” says Wayne. He holds two tuning forks up to my ears. Silence. He brings them closer. Suddenly, OmmmmmmMMMMMMMmmmmm. They’re the most crazy-beautiful bell tones, in two different keys, like musical humming birds hovering right …
As much as I love the new Central Library and kinda go “Wow!” every time the bus or trolley I’m in rolls under its beautiful dome, I’ve never gone inside. And the reason is just …
Stop me if I’ve blurted this before, but I’ve always had a good feeling about the Philippines since I came across the Mangyan people. They live on the island of Occidental Mindoro, south of Manila. …
‘We could see the blizzard coming,” says John. “I was ten. Our school was small. Five students. Winnie, my pony, was waiting outside. This was winter, Wyoming. Had to get home ahead of it. It …
It’s sunset on Fifth, Friday night. Gaslamp’s rocking. Pedicabs strain by with tourists squeezed three across in the back and reggae music blasting out. The cyclo guy’s calf muscles bulge as he hauls his load …
Wow. Last time I met so many submariners at the same time was at the late, great underwater sailors’ hangout named the Horse and Cow, across from Liberty Station. Tonight, there’s a bunch of them …
Attacking a snack like a cobra around midnight.
“Alas, people usually throw away the whole head of the fish, where all the flavor is.”
“You won’t regret it,” says Karen.“The iron rack. It’s totally seasoned.”
What did the rest of the world do before the Spanish brought tomatoes back from New World?
The charro and the pioneer lady set the kids into teams. “Now, don’t worry about breaking the eggs,” says the lady. “They’re made of wood. First team back with the egg still in the spoon …
I take a chunk of meat, collect some noodles and bean sprouts, and shove them in my maw.
“The End is Beer,” reads a little sign. “Uh, you do food?” I ask the gal at the bar.