Have you ever wondered who best knows the lay of this land? It’s not the Tourism Board; it’s not the employees at any land-surveying government entity. Rather, it’s those who roam around in distinctive red, green and blue vehicles. Taxi drivers are fonts of knowledge about what to...
Everyone loves to eat—and that couldn’t be truer in a dining-obsessed city like Hong Kong. There’s no better feeling than tracking down the city’s best roasted pork and rice, or venturing out to a forgotten corner of Sham Shui Po for the richest, sweetest egg tart you’...
The last time I was in Kyoto, I found myself running down a mountain as if my life depended on it. In my later confessions, I sometimes omit the fact that the mountain was none other than Mount Hiei, home of the Enryaku-ji temple and its troop of “marathon monks.” You see, on this...
Though a private magic show at the end of brunch is utterly unnecessary—in the same way that champagne is not technically a necessity either—one day at Sevva, I had the pleasure of both.
As my husband and I were eating our meal, Sean MacFarlane, who’s more correctly defined as a...
When I was 16 years old, a soothsayer in Burma told me that a bunch of bananas and a can of condensed milk made as an offering to the Shwedagon Pagoda would guarantee me eternal bliss. For some reason, I passed on the offer. Postcards seemed to be a better use of my remaining rupees. In a strange...
If anyone is up for a smell test, it would be Jordi Roca. The pastry chef of Spanish restaurant El Cellar de Can Roca not only wears Terre d’Hermes as his cologne of choice, he also manifests it as plated dessert: a chocolate covered patchouli ice cream with a hazelnut mousse and orange sauce...
It took me two years, 43 meals, and a shameless amount of sucking up before the owner of one of my favorite Korean restaurants in Kowloon told me the secret ingredient to her naeung myun. A bowl of perfect cold buckwheat noodles like the kind that’s made here deserves a respectful moment of...
My friend Laura, an anthropologist, is convinced that Red Bull is a sort of magic Rosetta Stone that can unlock the deepest insights into human nature. Yet she swears to me her craziest theories aren’t a result of too much Red Bull, nor mixing some of it with a little vodka.
And so I indulge...
Upon closer inspection, I realized these things weren’t teapots after all. Their abnormally large spouts, absence of proper handles, and general pooper-scooper shape made it abundantly clear. Yep, I was looking at urinals. Elaborate, antique, encased in glass, but nonetheless—urinals....
If you were judging by the look on his face, you would think Nico was witnessing some sad blight of the human race. But no, it was just his natural reaction to me eagerly describing the highly experimental crepes I made earlier that weekend at the newly opened Simplicity Crepe & Wine store....
