Frantically trying to finish another chunk of Mexico chapters before starting on the _next_ project, about _New_ Mexico--so hold your breath for more exciting tales of zany innkeepers and crotchety museum curators, once I get there on the 20th.
Category: Why Astoria Is the Greatest Place on Earth
At the live poultry store 1
Hello, ducks–will you be my dinner?
At the live poultry store 2
Weighing the bird–six pounds is perfect.
At the live poultry store 3
Off you go to the back room…
The Grilled Duck
This weekend was really a return to the Astoria salad days, when I would spend the day toddling from one fascinating grocery store to another, and then spend hours cooking dinner.
A good day
As you might have noted from the constant references to the KC and the Rover, I haven't been getting out of my neighborhood much. Which is a great testament to Astoria, but I was going a little stir-crazy when Tal called on Saturday to urge me to go to the barbecue in Flushing Meadows.
Treading Water
Where have all the great stories gone? I really feel like things are happening in little fits and starts, and I've barely had a meal, much less a good one, or anything worth writing about happen at all in a month or so.
The Lord’s way of saying…
...it's cool to procrastinate!
Hot dog! An anthem!
"FUCK!" she squawks. "They took my hot dog!"
Of beans and bread, and cardoons
So I availed myself of two semi-gourmet treats that my local, non-gourmet produce stand stocks every spring: cardoons and cranberry beans.