“Welcome to chaos,” the hostess said, though she grinned beautifully as if she had never experienced a day of it in her life, or as if she were accustomed to action whirling around her like the Tasmanian Devil. Our table was just then being clothed A cloaked in water glasses…
The idea of eating raw fish is anathema to many Americans. Some years ago I was among those who vowed never to try it. But when it comes to food, my self-imposed prohibitions often mean very little. And so it was with sushi. I was persuaded by three enthusiastic lovers…
To many people the approach of Memorial Day means the approach of summer. In the northern states, where winter’s last spiteful fits often mar spring’s hesitant nods, residents regard Memorial Day as the herald of change. At last the celebratory parades; at last the soothing heat; at last the white…
Thanks to the media-administered anesthesia of The Little Mermaid and Splash, most people view the mythical mermaid as they do manatees A gentle and stupid. Legend maintains that they rescue fallen sailors from the sea, groom themselves endlessly, and nurture a forlorn desire A strangely and at any cost A…
“Those only who have sojourned in the ardent climates of the South can appreciate the delights of an abode combining the breezy coolness of the mountain with the freshness and verdure of the valley. Everything invites to that indolent repose, the bliss of Southern climes; and while the half-shut eye…
In spring, when the heat of the Southern California sun mingled the odors of sweaty cabbage with sweet strawberries, my husband and I would park in a local field and watch the El Toro Air Force Base’s annual air show. The most fascinating aspect of the show was not the…
New York Times staff writer Georgia Dullea is sick of South Beach, and she isn’t alone. Her sardonic take on the hip and the hop of Miami’s pet project, encapsulated in her March 21 article “Why Won’t South Beach Go Away?” isn’t the first critical Times article I’ve read. After…
Recently I made the mistake of taking my friends to the opera. The production — a rather surreal interpretation of Mozart’s The Magic Flute — was actually well sung, the soprano more than capable of blowing off the roof. And the humor in the story was deftly handled. But the…
In my hometown, as in many others, malls constituted the main teenage hangout. Weekend afternoons, our relieved parents would commit us to the Livingston Mall, where we’d smoke secret cigarettes, try on tight, tacky clothes, and take out our worst zit-induced angst on each other. During the trespasses of puberty,…
Initially planned as one of Dade’s foremost shopping, dining, and entertainment complexes, the Bakery Centre instead has become one of the county’s most notorious commercial failures. The 9.5-acre site, along U.S. 1 in the heart of downtown South Miami, was developed at a cost of $24.5 million. But its intimidating…
Vacationer Rita had enjoyed a pleasant meal at News Cafe. The tropical crowd and tropical sky had competed with each other for her attention, enhancing the sometimes dreary business of eating alone. She signaled to the waiter for her bill. He scribbled the total and tossed it on the table,…
With each new wave of hype and publicity heralding Ocean Drive as the world’s hot spot for fun and fashion, Lincoln Road Mall becomes more appealing to residents of South Beach. It’s a sanity check during the height of the season, a place whose small theaters and art galleries, neighborhood…
On Corfu, as on many Greek islands, where one lodges determines the breadth of experiences one may have. We were staying at Maria’s Place, a neon-pink shack that stood directly on the gold table of beach, and we were content. But the infallible romance of a full moon and strolls…
If restaurants, as some say, have become the theater of the Nineties, then Ken Chan should grab the award for best actor. Or maybe for special effects. Chef and owner of Peking Noodle Gourmet Chinese Restaurant, Chan has carried the theater image a step beyond metaphor, to actual performance. And…
How many people took Geology 101 in order to fulfill their college science requirement? “Rocks for Jocks,” as it was known, came recommended as a “gut” course A passing grade guaranteed. You may assume I am not gifted in the physical sciences. You may also assume I was misinformed about…
In 1992, the Year of the Woman, Madonna was hailed as a shrewd businesswoman (which she is, despite what you may think of her). Barbra Streisand was acknowledged to be a powerful political ally. And Cindy Crawford broke the bonds of silent beauty to become what she believes is a…
The starving artist. Men and women dedicated to a life of culture. Everyone knows they lack two things: the physical desire for nutritive sustenance and the money to buy it. Starvation is practically a prerequisite for the production of any important art. So goes the cliche. In truth, for every…
Western women are not restricted but are certainly discouraged from touring the labyrinth that is Tangiers. Their bare limbs and naked faces upset both the male and female populations; their activities, such as dining in public, make them a threat. Neither are male tourists looked on with much favor except…
No local resident needs to be reminded that Manhattan and Miami are now enjoying the lucrative benefits of their seasonal trade agreement — tourist dollars for sand dollars. We need only to drive past the lines at Wolfie’s and Rascal House, or watch white flesh singe into sunsets on the…
Most people associate Tony Roma with the huge ribs-and-chicken chain that bears his neon name. Some might even link him to the popular Playboy Clubs he opened for Hugh Hefner during the Seventies’ bunny bonanza. But few would trace him to the inception and subsequent failure of forgettable nightclubs and…
In 1880 English land agent Charles C. Boycott was viciously ostracized in Ireland by those who, despite working on their native land, were required to pay taxes to him. Since that time, “boycott” has taken various meanings, including “the refusal to buy goods or services from.” A tool more powerful…
We left for Vegas in the early morning light, a cooler stocked with drinks in the back. It’s barely a five-hour drive from LA, but once through the San Bernardino Mountains, most of it’s desert travel. In my ’84 Civic that, among other charms, did not feature air-conditioning, we hoped…
