Tin Fork
“I didn’t drive here,” says Dale. “Why would I? I live two blocks away. This is my local. I used to spend $200–$300 a month on gas. Now it’s more like $60. We walk! This …
She buries her face into his shirt. He stares, bug-eyed, out the window. You know he’s pondering a bi-ig problem. They’re sitting on the side seats at the back of the Number 7. He gets …
Fever Crotch’s drummer whacks his drum — the box he’s sitting on — with his bandaged hand and teases his cymbal with a drumstick held in the other. The guitarist howls some lovelorn lament. But …
"End Times Christian Soldiers Mission," says the church near Oak Park School. Lord, why does everyone love this "end is nigh" stuff? I'm aboard the 955 bus, heading south toward National City. On the other …
It's 6:30 in the morning. Loan ("Lo-Ann"), the beautiful, solemn-faced Vietnamese girl in the green smock, hands me the note. It's from my lifeguard buddy. "Ed: Time and tide wait for no man. Off to …
"Spare a buck?" Scott asks. That's what starts it. I'm ambling innocently up Fifth toward University when I come across Scott, squatting against a wall, smoking. He gets me at a weak moment. So happens …
Sunday evening. Light's fading. Wandering up Ash and Union, the echoey streets of the world above Broadway. You know, wrong side of the tracks. All the cool eateries are in the Gaslamp. Up here, especially …
This restaurant is closed “I came before crack hit the streets,” says the Mother of East Village. “That’s how long I’ve been here.” Which means that Gloria Poore arrived in the 1960s, when this part …
Jerry Toliver’s a big guy. He’s a rock drummer and tennis coach, and he looks like a young James Brown with a headband. So I’m not surprised he’s put away a plate of rib tips …
“Where am I from?” says Dzung. “Hanoi.” Wow. We’re sitting ’round the fire pit, chowing down. He’s eating grilled chicken and fries. I’m into pork tacos with chicken nuggets, a cheese enchilada, and a little …
E.J. Wilson sings it like he really means it. “No one can take your happiness, long as you/ Do what you gotta do.” That’s exactly what he’s doing. What he has to do. Busking. We’re …
“I’m a cook, not a chef,” says Mary. “There’s a difference?” says Carla, looking up from her dinner. She’s diving into her turkey, cranberry sauce, mash, and peas. Totally standard, but it’s been so long …
I’ve always been a goat guy. Yes, it’s sometimes gamey, but that’s the point: goat meat’s never bland. So today I’m thinking, why not? Right here on Imperial in Sherman Heights, where a couple of …
I take the pig's rectum, hold it on the fork. This is it. Chomp. Try not to think, I tell myself. I mean, if this wasn't what it is, I'd quite enjoy it. A little …
Yippee! It’s okay to eat burgers again!” This is our neighbor Lisa. She’s yelling it from the balcony of her apartment. Us burger-loving burghers, Carla and I, gather ’neath her balcony. “Burgers are back!” Lisa …
You ask, what do I like about Tijuana? This is what: I’m jes wandering down Fourth, heading toward Constitución, when I come across an impromptu clump of guys sitting around a shoeshine booth, “Bolería El …