2 29 2012
2 27 2012
We’ve all bought something that doesn’t fit or doesn’t suit us. Let’s call them sartorial fictions—things not just a size too small, but that look as though they belonged to another person. View More
2 27 2012
I suspect I’m not alone in wearing different sizes. There’s the size I think of myself, the size of clothes I buy, and then there’s the size of something that suits me—which you can’t really put a number on. Something that falls right and hits where it should doesn’t have any size at all—it just fits. View More
2 27 2012
Upon waking on a given weekend morning and feeling the reverberations of the night before, it’s perfectly understandable to want to leave the cooking to others. That’s why people make their way to diners and bistros, coffee shops and brasseries. In New York in particular, there’s a bleary-eyed pilgrimage to get strong coffee, eggs Benedict, and, you know what, maybe a Bloody Mary, too. View More
2 27 2012
We all know you are what you eat, but increasingly it seems that you are also what you order. That’s to say: Your steak must be grass-fed, your sea bass line-caught and your eggs from a chicken that exercises vigorously beneath gentle sunshine in a field the size of Central Park. People confess with guilt usually associated with high treason that, no, in fact, this coffee isn’t fair trade. Scandal! View More
2 27 2012
