Remember that old saw, “You can’t judge a book by its cover”? Sure, it’s a cliche, but like all cliches it has a basis in truth. We all make assumptions based on appearances, every day of our lives. Even in these politically proper Nineties, when everyone works so hard not…
Late in the afternoon, look at the sky: cerulean blue, marred like a bruise with the portent of thunderstorms. A sure sign of summer. But how can that be when the tourist season hasn’t ended yet? Daylight Savings Time, a marker that to most of the country signals spring but…
This past fall, when I took a job as an elementary school teacher, I didn’t give any thought to what havoc this career move would wreak on that most sacred hour of the day: lunchtime. In the grade-school biz we get half an hour, which is often chiseled to twenty…
As human beings, we’re all pretty much assured that whatever happens to us has, at some point, happened to somebody else. An experience can be wonderful or horrifying, but it’s almost certainly not unique. Simply by virtue of being able to use our thumbs, walk upright, and talk, we belong…
As I inched my way toward my master’s degree in poetry at the University of California in Irvine, I took solace in one thing: After every brutal workshop in which we deconstructed each other’s work until at least one of us cried in the bathroom and the rest vowed never…
I was strolling down the transformed Lincoln Road on a recent weekday evening, winding my way among the outdoor cafe tables and marveling at how much the artsy ol’ mall now looks like Boca Raton, when I got caught up in the crowd near South Beach Brasserie. Locals and tourists…
In an American Express TV commercial, a young man hosts his first business dinner in a posh restaurant. At the conclusion of the meal, which has been successful so far, he cavalierly hands a credit card to the waiter. Cut to the server, holding the card (another company’s, of course)…
Boy, am I sick of being a woman. Seems like everywhere I go in this macho town, someone’s got to do something or say something patronizing to remind me of my gender. I go jogging, I get kissing sounds and catcalls — even at five o’clock in the morning. I…
Chef-proprietors rise up in all manner of ways. Some go the academic route, attending culinary school and scoring internships under well-known chefs. Others work their way up the line, discovering a love for cooking accidentally, perhaps as an end product of part-time teenage jobs. A few (too many) jump headlong…
“Look at that!” my husband said in disgust, pointing to a boutique blazing light from a corner of South Atlantic Boulevard, the erstwhile Fort Lauderdale Strip. “Can you believe that?” I looked. The place was open and seemed to be attracting a steady business. “So?” “What do you mean so?…
I don’t know if it was a result of navigating through the closely packed tables or just innate clumsiness, but our server at Coco’s Sidewalk Cafe seemed born to bobble. He dribbled water on the floor, knocked over a glass of our wine on his tray, and tripped over the…
So you’re an inventive, creative chef, tops in your field. You finally run your own place, and you’re doing fusion things with regional ingredients no one in South Florida has ever seen before. You’re booked to the max every night with reservations. Your patrons adore you. The media, local and…
“You could really learn some food-avoidance behaviors in this place,” my friend Rick said when we walked into six-week-old Cafe Aqua, located between Euclid and Pennsylvania avenues on the newly revamped Lincoln Road. He peered at the moray eel, nurse shark, and spiny lobster that cohabit in one of the…
I’m of two minds about reviewing Japanese restaurants. On the one hand, I relish the opportunity. I adore the cuisine, particularly the raw stuff, and think that, at least in terms of sushi, Miami’s Japanese eateries offer some of the freshest fish I’ve ever had. I find making a meal…
Info: ‘Tis the Seasoning By Jen Karetnick While waiting for our table, my guests and I glanced around at the racks of wine, the gleaming deli cases displaying imported meats and cheeses, the shelves of pastries scenting the market portion of Perricone’s Marketplace & Cafe. “This place looks just like…
Howie paused momentarily at the edge of the crowd, waiting for his field of vision to clear. He danced right, then faked left, spinning away from one obstacle after another. Then he spied an opening and took off, darting through the defensive line and into the end zone, where he…
The start of the new year is a season as much for reflection as for anticipation. Past failures especially take on life all over again, a reincarnation that may prove uncomfortable for some. But it is this assessment, painful though it may be, that really allows us to look forward,…
Some say that good teachers can teach anything. I happen to think that’s true, to a point. Successful teaching does depend on imparting information in a clear and logical fashion. But knowledge of (or love for) what you’re giving lessons in is not exactly incidental. The best teacher is one…
One year, when my parents claimed to be too tired to go out on their anniversary and consume a four-star meal, my sister and I decided to supply it for them in the comfort of their own dining room. We could be as elegant as any restaurant, we told each…
I had been looking forward to reading Pat Conroy’s latest best seller, Beach Music, for two reasons: I admire Conroy’s flowery style, and the Southern-boy protagonist in this novel, Jack McCall, is a food and travel writer. Devouring page after page of well-crafted, poetic descriptions of different dishes and cities,…
Despite vultures, despite tourists, despite conventions galore, I look forward to the winter season for one reason: Important new restaurants, most of which have been remodeling, writing menus, and hiring staff for months, finally open to the public. In this city that seems to shut down over the summer, a…
“You have a great job,” acquaintances declare when they find out what I do. “You’re so lucky!” “Yup,” I agree unequivocally. Then they turn to my husband. “And do you get to go along?” “Of course,” he nods. “I wouldn’t let her go without me.” “Then you have an even…
