In which the Chef becomes an American citizen in age of Trump, we eat Cajun food and visit my enthusiastic 89-year-old mother in her nursing home. More than a "snack attack," a meditation on what it means to become a citizen for my husband, for me and for my old American mom (with some thoughts on gumbo and po' boys thrown into the stew!
Read MoreBut as happens in New York City, there is always something new to take you out of your old aches and frets. In my case it is usually a snack. Crossing Clinton I saw Tramezzini NYC, a small space with summery white exposed brick walls, two counters and a blackboard outside advertising iced coffee and Venetian sandwiches. In fact, Tramezzini, stands for a particular kind of Venetian sandwich, made of soft olive oil bread—in this case, flown in from the Veneto.
Read MoreFrom the sublime to the sublimely ridiculous: looking out from the viewing deck of the grand Oratoire Saint Jospeph du Mont Royal, I saw the giant orange orb beckoning in the distance. The retro fast food Gibeau Orange Julep looked like one of the remnants of Expo 67 strewn around Montreal, which we have come to know through three years of visits to our son, a McGill University student. We had walked five miles and it would be another three miles to reach Orange Julep along a bleak stretch of the Décairie Expressway.
Read MoreCorrado Bread and Pastry is a busy, welcoming spot in the East 70s, catering to ladies who lunch and school girls in pleated uniform mini skirts. I like many things about it: the outside dining area, the fact that, tiny as it is, it has a bathroom, that, in an area with the highest concentration of billionaires in the city, its prices are miraculously low, especially for ritzy items like prosciutto wrapped focaccia sticks ($2.75) or mini pepper brioches stuffed with chicken and basil or tuna and watercress ($3.50).
Read More