Tin Fork
Don’t know why I expect things to be cheaper just because they’re in Chula Vista. Guess I think rents must be lower than, say, downtown. Or uptown. But when I check the prices at Mea …
Russell, Russell. This was your idea. Now I’m here, but you’re not. Russ died last month, you may have read. Pretty young. He was the Reader’s chief proofreader, which means he was a cross between …
"Bet you can’t,” says Larry. “Bet I can,” I say. “Five-dollar meal at the Hotel Del Coronado?” He laughs into the phone. “No way.” Larry’s an old pal. Wants to get together. Except he lives …
It’s amazing what you find when you’re cruisin’, jes’ cruisin’. Actually, I’m threading my way up through the Gaslamp toward the bus stop at Third and Broadway. But I may be open to a snick …
"Mama, you never yell at us except when you drink coffee.” “That’s why we drink tea,” says Jennifer, “except sometimes.” But Jennifer likes to be called by her religious name, Bathsheba. “It means ‘daughter of …
"I’m jonesing to get back down to Panama,” says Jeff. “‘Jonesing’?” says this old guy who is seated next to me. “Yeah,” Jeff says. “Like, longing.” Huh. I’d forgotten the word myself. But Jeff, it …
It’s Willy’s badge that gets everyone’s attention. The sheriff’s badge. People run for the exit. Others yell, “Sheriff! Sing us ‘La Bamba’!” Okay, nobody ran. And not everybody recognized the blue eyes, the badge, the …
"Complexity is the end of fun,” says Rick. He’s philosophizing at the bar stool to my right, here in this little wine bar behind Rosie O’Grady’s pub. This is up in Normal Heights. Rick’s talking …
The cookie monster’s calling. You know me and my sweet tooth. Having apple-strudel dreams again. ’Specially now, as night comes on, and you feel like a little reward for having gotten through the day. Trouble …
He comes bounding across G Street against the light, stops, looks at me for a moment, then lopes on up Ninth Avenue. He’s a beautiful, big German shepherd, young, free, strutty, and out to cause …
Late Sunday afternoon. Hungry for fish. Just got off the trolley at the Gaslamp, bottom of Fifth. I see I have a choice, har-de-har. Lou & Mickey’s, Nobu, Tin Fish. As they say, no contest. …
Another rainy day: Del Mar is not its usual sunny self. I’ve been sheltering in their grand old library. Big ol’ house. What a gem. Now waiting just across Highway 101 — they call this …
" Remember, green curry. Don’t come home without it!” Carla’s words ring in my ear. She’s been on a curry binge ever since I hit the Indian food truck six weeks ago. Says it helps …
This little guy was singing a few days ago. Now, crunch. One ex-grasshopper. We’re talking chapulines. Fried and dropped on a big white plate. A delicacy from Oaxaca, southern Mexico. The taste? Salty, with a …
Friday night. Just got paid. Riding my stretch limo (the 933 bus) around, circling the coast of I.B. I figure on maybe going up the pier to that seafood place the Tin Fish. But, then, …
Wowee. It feels like Back East, Back When. Like, before “calories” became a dirty word. I’m standing outside Lefty’s, the Chicago pizza outpost where Windy City refugees come in droves, desperate to escape anorexic-thin New …