It was early on a Saturday morning, much earlier than I would usually wake up on a weekend. But, this day was a special day. Waking up with only four hours of sleep, instead of the usual workweek-recovery eleven, is entirely fueled by hunger. Not a breakfast hunger, or a hung-over hunger. It’s the type of hunger usually reserved for Thanksgiving, or in this case, the South Beach Wine and Food Festival.
10:07 AM: Talking about food but not eating food
I ar…Continue Reading
Joe’s Stone Crab is a South Florida culinary institution and one of the most iconic restaurants in the city. It’s a twenty-mile trip from the suburbs of West Miami, over the brightly lit MacArthur causeway into Miami Beach on the way to Joe’s for someone’s 65th wedding anniversary where your rich uncle is footing the bill.
Until a few years ago, I only had the pleasure of imagining what a restaurant with such notoriety would be like. I imagined dusty chandeliers and penguin…Continue Reading
Strolling through the trendy South Beach neighborhood of Sunset Harbor, I came across Lucali, a sit-down pizza joint famous for their long lines at their original Brooklyn location, and more notably, their pricey $30 pies.
“$30?” I auto-calculated as I scanned the menu, trying to fight my fondness toward globs of hot cheese and the urgency to throw money at my hunger problem. But something didn’t sit quite right about going somewhere nice, having a glass of wine and racking…Continue Reading
Taking my parents out to dinner is a game of chance. Age, experience, and generally strong opinions typically lead us to dine at “safe choices,” places like their favorite local Cuban restaurant, or a major chain – usually Ruby Tuesday or Macaroni Grill.
They’re very well aware that these are subpar places, but the point is – they’re expectedly subpar. No surprises here, folks. The Fettuccini Alfredo is bland, the server is disinterested, and even though the dessert menu ne…Continue Reading
On rare occasions, I enjoy very adult, very American dining experiences. It’s a nice break from eating at restaurants that try to create bizarre, unfamiliar experiences – places where ordering the silliest sounding dish satisfies my desperate attempts in feeling some semblance of emotion.
I wanted to eat rib eye. I wanted a big, fat, buttery lobster. But I still wanted to feel things. This is why Bourbon Steak was my first choice in the Miami Spice circuit this yea…Continue Reading
It’s time I reveal my relationship status with My Ceviche, whom I’ve been booty-calling on the regular for over a year now.
Every week without fail, there will be that one random night I come home after 9:00 from work, plop down on my couch pitying myself for not “making time” to cook myself a proper dinner and resort to a box of sugary cereal before bed. But before the shame has time to sink in, I remember that My Ceviche exists, and it brings a huge wave of relief. Not on…Continue Reading