It’s funny how each culture has a different way of handling food. To some it is a necessity; to others, it’s a show. To the Italians, it’s an art.
On the hierarchy of party foods, pizza reigns supreme. And, when Mom declared it a pizza night, you dropped everything to come to the table.
The other week, I was invited to a dinner hosted by a friend. Those attending included people I’ve admired for years.
Everyday you wake up grateful for the fresh start because you allot yourself a certain number of calories and it begins again.
Just finished breakfast, but these pictures are making me hungry.
I’ll never forget the conversation I had with a cab driver on my first day in Barcelona.
I offer a little insight on how and why I price my lunches and dinners.
It’s empowering really, to sit back in a wooden chair with a napkin in your lap, thinking about the upcoming week.
You wake up and immediately consider what you’ll have for breakfast. When breakfast is over, you start daydreaming about lunch. And so on.
2. The pseudo-argument that turns into love.