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Miscellaneous

Frigidaire

As we close in on the end of the week, I’ve found a new way to waste time. You can thank me later. A friend just sent me a link to Fridgewatcher.com, a website that features nothing but pictures of refrigerators from around the world and their contents. You could submit a photo of your own fridge; there’s even a spot to leave a brief manifesto on the contents. I only wish the people submitting images were a bit better at IDing their items—the American fridges are easy, of course (though I must admit I had forgotten about the existence of Juicy Juice), but I’m stumped when it comes to the fridges of Sweden, Kenya, Amsterdam. What are all those mysterious condiments?

My Post-Vacation Vacation


Wine bottles and flowers at Quattro

I lucked out last week. After getting home from Cartagena at 1 a.m. on Monday morning, all I had to do was put in five days of work, then I was off again for a night at the Four Seasons in Palo Alto followed by a Sunday in Healdsburg and a relaxing Columbus Day off.


Reluctant Capitalist

Here’s the curse of an open market economy: Too much choice. I don’t think I’m alone in feeling totally paralyzed in most grocery stores now. As I scan the aisles of laundry detergent, or dry pasta, or canned tomatoes, I find myself gripped by a kind of shopper’s paralysis. Organic? Sustainable? No Fragrance? Whole Wheat? I think that’s why I really like finding a favorite brand and sticking with it. I’m a loyal shopper. I’m also a loyal diner. When I find something I like, I have a hard time deviating from it. That’s why I will always order French fries and fruit crisp at Universal Café, and the Vietnamese crepe at Sunflower.

Fruit or Veggie?


Garden tomato salad

The tomato is a complicated item. Its pronunciation isn’t the only conundrum—toe-may-toe or toe-mah-to? Many also wonder: Is it a fruit or a veggie?

Running with the Fishermen



I just got back from a week’s vacation in Cartagena, where fresh-picked fruit and just-caught fish are always at your fingertips.



The eating was good, which is one reason why I stepped out to run a few miles on the beach every other day, despite the three-digit temperatures. During these morning runs, I’d exchange thumbs up with all the fishermen pulling in what looked like very heavy nets. With such abundance from the sea, it’s no surprise that breakfast was my only fish-free meal.

Eater in the Dark

My mom just started her 43rd year of working at the Library of Congress. Right now she’s the Chief of the Network for the Blind and Physically Handicapped—going on maybe 15 years. I’m so proud of her. What does that have to do with eating and drinking in SF you wonder? Well, on Friday night I attended San Francisco’s first Dining in the Dark event put together by TasteTV and Million Dollar Dinner.


Servers equipped with night-vision goggles

Let the Games Begin

Here’s a little tidbit of information about me: I love to win. Well, actually, that’s not entirely true—it’s more that I hate to lose. My family will vouch for me on this one, citing a childhood spent flipping Monopoly boards and getting in fights over games of Uno. Believe me, it’s not something I’m proud of, and as an adult I try to avoid head-to-head competition, lest the evil competitive demon rear her ugly head.

Labor Day

As a single mother of two (divorcée?) and full-time food editor and writer, I often feel like a bit of a head-case. This is my life: Highly glamorous (fancy restaurants, multiple courses, paired wines), utterly unglamorous (on my hands and knees, cleaning rice off the floor, Finding Nemo on in the background).

Bite or Flight

A few days ago in the office we coined a new phrase (credit to our A&E editor, Melissa Goldstein, must be given): Bite or Flight. I was describing an experience that happens to me when I’m dining out. Full of expectation and anticipation, I sit down in a new restaurant, eagerly open the menu and then…wish that I had chosen a different place to have dinner.

La Dolce Vita


Intern Roxanne and Senior Editor Sara Deseran living la vida loca.
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