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The Spaniard’s Chocolate
The Spanish can be intense. You know it when you walk into a restaurant in Spain: If the noise level isn’t over 90 decibels, look at your watch. It’s not 10 pm yet. In the south, in Andalucia, they’ve built their towns on defensible hills, fortified against attack, with steep climbs to achieve them. A…
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Rosé In Montmartre
I’ve felt vaguely bad in the past for floating an ice cube in my glass of white to chill it, to make it more refreshing. I thought this was An American Thing, one more demonstration of our strange love affair with ice in our drinks. Though I’d never put a cube in any nuanced white–or,…
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A Leffe In The City Of Love
While Paris lies under a flooded Seine, I remember the time spent there over so many years. My favorite city, a city for love, but one in which I’ve often been happiest alone. Why is that, in the midst of the City of Light, would I feel most part of her love when sitting solo…