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Home » Entries posted by Karl Isberg: Food for Thought (Page 3)
Stories written by sunfoodforthought

The fat boy fails the tub test

I’m fat. I know it. I don’t need anyone to tell me, though Kathy manages to slam me with at least one less-than-veiled comment per day. “Hey, Chunky. Did I…

Lunching with finks at Trattoria Borgia

I can see it clearly, as if I am there. The vision is awful, edges crisp, every detail amplified. The emotions it summons are stark. I’ve experienced this vision in…

Sleekly Swedish, hold the horse

An examination of a family tree usually reveals tangled roots, a twisted amalgam of genetic histories, nationalities, religions. The end result: we’re mutts. I like to ponder my muttiness. I…

Rebounding from kitchen disasters

I blew it. Several times. My confidence was shaken. It’s bound to happen: you mess something up, you make a mistake, demolish a dish, ruin a recipe, maul a meal.…

Meet Mr. Social, the party planner

We have the discussion at least once each week. “You’re antisocial,” she says. “No, I’m not. Now leave me alone.” “You are. You go out of your way to avoid…

Give the lamb a name before you eat it

Its springtime in the Rockies. For many folks, the arrival of spring provides for meditations on budding flowers, on the wonder of the lively seasons — spring, summer, fall. Others…

Of geeks and French fries

It’s a tsunami. A wave of geeks surges down the broad hallway. The geeks are shoulder to shoulder, few of them watching where they’re going; some are texting, heads down,…

Come’n Git It for real American food writing

I’ve had enough. My ability to absorb and endure pretense (my own aside) has collapsed. I’m declaring a moratorium. On food magazines. Have you read any of the food magazines…

I love meat. Where are your pets?

Meat. Ahhh. I’m reflecting on my life as a carnivore. It’s all I have to do. I’ve squandered hours in front of the TV doing cultural research, watching one after…

Happy where the music plays, and the sun don’t shine

I’m in Santa Fe. More or less against my will. Land of period knockoffs, pea-brain western art, cowboy hats without cowboys, and awkward turquoise jewelry. Pretense, N.M. I am grumbling.…

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