2019 was a great year – at least in my arts & culture universe, a world decidedly far flung from the rough ‘n tumble of modern politics, climate change debate, and all other serious problems. The real world is tough right now. I get it. I feel it. If I can bring a temporary smile to someone’s face, to help them to remember to breathe, appreciate, and feel light, to help them escape from the real world for even just a moment – well then this blog has been successful. So, b

It is said that the color orange stimulates pleasure, optimism, and enthusiasm. All good things. But to be 100% truthful, I most often associate this quirky, bright color with Reese Witherspoon in the movie “Legally Blonde” (2001). She famously says – “Whoever said orange is the new pink was seriously disturbed.” Right on, fashiony sista’. Still, as far as outdoor restaurant décor goes, I love orange. I can vouch for its quirky brightness indeed stimulating happiness. M

Summer 2019 has fast become my “foodie” summer. From scrumptious Italian on Arthur Ave, to a Peruvian Andes Mountain view in Port Chester, I am circling our vast globe all from the comfort of my Connecticut back-yard. Last week, it was Mexican fish tacos at Norway’s own Fjord in Darien. To date, these are the best fish tacos I’ve ever eaten. Now I’m no regular on the “fish taco” circuit (if there is one?), but Fjord is worth mentioning. What makes them so blog-worthy? 1.

Arthur Ave, meet Port Chester. Port Chester, meet Arthur Ave. Both New York giants in gastronomy, these two scrappy ‘hoods provided the perfect back-drop for my week-long July 4th birthday celebration. First to Bat – Pasquale’s Rigoletto on June 29th. Invited under a veil of mystery, I sashayed into my mid-‘90s vintage summer dress before furtively parking my car in a mysterious driveway (aka, my secret rendezvous point). I then hopped into another car with my two truly s

At its best, a summer night is indescribable. Elusive. From the warm breezes; the comforting, rhythmic chant of crickets; and the beautiful starry sky filled with deep blues and purples – a summer night dances, flits. It then flees before dawn, leaving us to languish only with its enchanted memory. But most importantly, a summer night reminds us to stop, relax, and simply “be.” That’s exactly what I did last night. After braving the increasingly treacherous Merritt Parkw

In honor of all things vintage, I unveil a reworking of an old gem – a 2004 restaurant review entitled “The Forum at Dakshin.” It comprises one of eight restaurant reviews, making up my book called “Bon Appetit” from that same year. I still remember that spring night vividly – the warmth of the air, the walk to the restaurant, and of course, the good food and company. My sister and I were on a quest to “feed our soul.” I hope you enjoy. On a warm spring night, fireflies d

Some things never go out of style – the little black dress, the beauty of a sunset – or a good friend boldly telling you, "At forty, you've BLEEPITY-BLEEP earned the right to eat clam chowder after cake." God love ya. Aw, what a friend. So it went last Saturday at the Rainmaker Buffet at Foxwoods Casino. The "fun foursome" (my Mom and I, and our good friends Pam and Colby) reunited for a night of food-coma fun and old-fashioned laughs. We four have been tight for thirty-f

Let's face it. You don't get more vintage than a dinosaur. Dinosaur Bar-B-Que restaurant has the chicest, greenest dinosaur-waiter for a mascot. Dinosaur-waiter? Yes. He sports a black bow tie, and a white napkin on his left forearm. He carries a big hunk o' steamin' meat. He also appears to be so happy that he's even prancing. Good food will make you prance, I reckon. I first visited this restaurant franchise at one of its first locations – Harlem – back in 2006. S

I finish this first blog year with a famous opening line – “It all started when…” And that it did. Picture it – January 2004. “It all started when” two sisters hopped in the car, on New Year’s night, and drove to little Bangkok Gardens – a quaint “Yaley” Thai restaurant located just a stone’s throw away from the storied New Haven Green. The night was dark, frigid. They could see their breath as they fumbled for pocket-change to pay the sidewalk parking meter. But, tucked

I don’t remember my exact words: “What’s a COWBOY doing working in a MOROCCAN restaurant?!” Maybe that was it. And I had sounded like the guy in that salsa commercial years ago. He looks at his jar of salsa and is thunderstruck to see that it wasn’t made out West, instead in – “NEW YORK CITY?!” Anyway, Lisa and I ventured to “The Fez” Moroccan restaurant in Stamford, Connecticut, one chilly night this winter. We came face-to-face with a water-pitcher-toting blonde hunk –

We accidentally call Paloma – "Palerma" (a female variation of an Italian city). We then break a margarita glass like a Greek lady – "Hahazzz." We later spill a water glass in official restaurant baptism and confirmation of “Oh no you didn’t!” clutsy embarrassment. This is what we did on July 4th, 2015. We four dined at famous Food Network guru Aarón Sánchez’s restaurant called Paloma on the water in Stamford, Connecticut. It was Little Miami, meets Italy, meets Greece