Monthly Archives: January 2013
As Superbowl approaches, thoughts turn, naturally enough to food. Every year I am fascinated anew to learn that Americans will be eating 4.4 million pizzas, and 1.25 billion chicken wings.
Everything I know about football can pretty much fit on a cocktail napkin. My dad, who is something of an oracle on American sports in spite of being British, has given up hope.
A few years ago I won a competition (and a bunch of really nice egg-shaped Denby dishes), for this snack. It was actually the first time I made food for a Superbowl party, and I was anxious to get things authentically, … Continue reading
Burns Night is a celebration of the poet responsible for such classic literary hits as A Red Red Rose, and Address to a Haggis. If you’re Scottish, like my husband, it’s an unmissable opportunity to drink whisky and say things … Continue reading
My Aunty Jennifer, of accidental sex grass fame, has been taking part in another biological experiment.
A few winters ago my sister and I put our names on the waiting list at Serendipity. Apparently it might take a while. So we went to Bloomingdales for an hour. Yeah, it was still going to take a while. … Continue reading
“I don’t want to be a King,” protested Arthur, when told that he had to participate in the annul family nativity show. “I don’t want to and you can’t make me.”
Overheard at 42nd street station.