It is easy to miss the historical implications of monuments in a foreign city. To understand them requires time, research and effort, and often even locals don’t know much about them (they have “just always been there”). My eye lids grow heavy almost immediately when I begin to read a tourist map blurb of a… Read More El Parque del Buen Retiro
Deep in the throes of travel and frantic with the responsibilities of relocation, I have spent most of the last week curled up in airline seats, head leaned against the windows of cabs or twisting in jet-lagged insomnia on hard hostel beds. I am tired. But it is a good kind of tired. It is… Read More
In September of 1992, in the duty-free section of ferry-boat freshly departed from Rosslare, Ireland, I bought a bottle of wine. Already buzzed from the romance and contrived sentimentality of a backpacker’s trip in Europe and excited by our upcoming arrival in France, I decided to splurge on a 1982 Chateau Dauzac Margaux. I, of… Read More My lonely Chateau Dauzac Margaux
In the heart of Beverly Hills, ironically tucked away under a corporate office building and a suburbia-inspired parking structure, lies the locally known restaurant Via Alloro. The earthy tones and sparsely placed desert vegetation lend itself well to the dry southern California air, and the understated decor and outdoor booths with pillows make a passer-by… Read More Via Alloro and The Hollywood Bowl
