Today I learned the word tempura is not of Japanese origin. It turns out it’s a loan word from Latin, and it’s connected to a centuries-old Catholic tradition called Ember Days. This morning, I was up and out of the house early enough to get to Mass before work. I went to the traditionalist Catholic … Continue reading Today I learned the word tempura is not Japanese
We’re at Miami International Airport, waiting for our flight back to Phoenix. What a shithole. For once, TSA wasn’t the problem at the security checkpoint; it was totally clueless passengers. I mean, signs were posted in nine languages, and it seems like half of traveling public here can’t read any of them. Ugh. On the … Continue reading Patiently mingling with the unwashed masses in Miami
Bottoms Up Pizza was one of my regular places to eat when I lived in Richmond, at least in part because it was walking distance from my apartment in the Tobacco Row area. It is located in the Shockoe Bottom neighborhood, hence the name. Indeed, it’s at the very bottom of Shockoe Bottom. A line on the wall near the entrance shows customers how high the flood water rose in the aftermath of Hurricane Gaston in 2004.
A couple years ago on one of my other blogs, I wrote about my first experience eating Sonoran hot dogs in Phoenix. I had first read about Sonoran hot dogs in an in-flight magazine on US Airways, but the article was about Tucson, not Phoenix. Since then, I’ve been looking forward to an authentic Sonoran … Continue reading Sonoran hot dogs at El Guero Canelo in Tucson
How well you tip your server in a restaurant says little about your character. How well you tip your housekeeper in a hotel room speaks volumes.