#everyone knows this is the Irish version of the Onion right

[beggars-opera]

IRISH ACTING legend Cillian Murphy has issued a ‘would you ever fuck off’ plea to everyone trying to get selfies with him in public as he just tries to go about his daily life. In a WWN exclusive copy and pasted article from a range of websites that copy and pastes everything, this time from Rolling Stone, we have cherry picked a small section from a wide-ranging interview quoting it out of context in the hopes of causing a stir. “They’re expecting Tommy Shelby and that’s not me but they’ll fucking get a razor blade to the throat if they keep asking for photos while I’m trying to order a chicken fillet roll in my local Spar,” explained Murphy. The Oppenheimer star admitted to being mentored by fellow Corkonian Roy Keane on how to interact with over eager fans. “I fantasise about turning up to these peoples’ homes at 7am as they wearily take out the bins in their pyjamas and demanding selfies from them, how would you like that Susan! Sorry that wasn’t very Chillian Murphy of me,” added Murphy, his dreamy blue eyes doing that thing were they transform into the nightmarish blue eyes of a psychopath. It was at this point we sought to end the interview. “Don’t you want to hear more about my craft, my acting, what motivates me, why I get up in the mornings, why art is more vital then ever as the age of AI descends on us,” queried Murphy as we hurriedly packed up our things. “Nah we’re grand, we’ve got enough for a clickbait headline so we’ll be on our way,” we concluded.

[dellalyra]

omg imagine gojo with a welsh or irish gf - another irish girl

Gojo would thrive with one of us Irish women

Because let’s face it: we’re mostly all firebrands, strong, fiery passionate women.

That strong sense of loyalty and family (blood or found) oriented attitude? He relishes it, a feeling of belonging - of being truly loved and respected by someone? Amazing. The fiery nature of our blood lends itself a protective nature. The higher ups are giving him shit? Not a chance.

“Eh? Excuse you, you wrinkly sack of shite? What your last skivvy die of? Hush your gob or I’ll shut it for you. Fucking scarlet for ya’, absolute state of ya.”

Sometimes when you’re angry your accent becomes thicker or if you’re a gaeilgeoir you might slip into your teanga nádúrtha and I stg gojo has never gotten a hard on quicker in his life than seeing you spitting fire at that typical angry Irish girl speed of light.

None of his arrogance or occasional push-too-far would float either. None of us have the energy.

“Satoru, for the love of God, if you keep going on about not wanting to do the washing up because you’re the strongest, I’m going to crack up. I don’t have the energy for your shite right now. Now get up off your arse and clean the pan.”

Probably takes him a while to get used to how casually we curse and drink too, like you’re going to see your friends?

“I’m meeting the gang for a few jars tonight, coming?”

“The fuck are you doing with jars?”

The vernacular gets him too.

“SATORU!” Comes a shout from across the house.

“Yes, gremlin?”

“Grab me a few tea cloths from the hot press will you? Good chap.”

“Hot press? Is that a sex position?”

“Oh, Jesus Mary and Joseph.”

If you guys have kids - they’re brought up with the value that the mammy is the centre of the family and nothing goes on without her say so.

Like imagine a little mini version of Satoru running around and sprinting to his dad.

“Daddy, can I have the sweets on the table?” Shiny blue eyes mirror each other.

“Ask your mother, kiddo, it’s her dairy milk.”

The patter of feet is followed by a:

“MAAAAAAA! Can I have your selection box?”

“You can in your hat!”

Satoru sick? Why do you keep giving him flat 7up or cream crackers? Suguru got wounded on a mission, why do you insist on putting sudocream on it?

Christmas rolls around and for some reason in late November it’s a very big deal one Friday night. You have cornered him, Suguru and Shoko and forced them all into Christmas pyjamas and made hot chocolates for everyone and switched the telly on.

“What is going on? It’s not even Christmas.” Suguru asks, completely lost.

“Wha? Sure it’s the last Friday in November.”

The three just sit in silence.

“You three, thick as a plank, the lot of ye. I told ye last week that it’s the Toy Show tonight!”

“The what show?”

“The Toy Show!”

“It’s a show… about toys?”

“Yeah! A load of kids showing off their toys and showing how they work and all. Fierce funny. Robbie Keane usually ends up on it too somehow.”

If ever there’s an issue where some arsehole is annoying you about stereotypes, it’s always an entertaining show for Satoru.

“Can you do a Riverdance?” The stranger asks.

“Jaysus, sure I haven’t done any Irish dancing since I was in 3rd class and my nanny forced me to.”

Introducing him to Irish delicacies?

No I don’t mean coddle, or stew.

I mean real delicacies.

Like a chicken fillet roll or a spice bag. Your Nana’s apple tart. Soda bread or a bottle of Lilt. Bag of tayto (cheese and onion, obviously) or purple snack bars? A curly wurly? Red lemonade or a mikado biscuit? (Fuck, we love sweets I’m realising as I write this) or a decent cup of tea (Barry’s or Lyon’s, I won’t start that debate here).

Most of all, I think Satoru would thrive in the warmth of an Irish woman. We might be temperamental, battleaxes sometimes, and always a bit mad but one thing I know is we love wholeheartedly and fiercely, with every fibre of who we are. That belonging, the nurturing, the warmth and sheer sense of home that we all somehow tend to exude would made Satoru an incredibly happy man.

[searchingwardrobes]

Valentine Throwbacks: Day 5

This is another one that was written for the Valentine’s Day Prompts back in 2018. This was for Day One: Secret Admirer. I’m posting it last because it has a part two which I’ll post later.

I really wanted it to be Emma who is the secret admirer because all the fics I've read in this genre has Killian as the secret admirer. So I was going through the Chick-fil-A drive thru, mulling over how closed-off Emma could actually do that, and . . . well, this happened. I didn’t realize when I wrote this that the kind of drive thru at our Chick-fil-A was a prototype and not found anywhere else. Basically, instead of driving up to a window, there’s this open area where they just walk out and give you your food.

**Please note: I have made no attempts to hide that this story takes place at a Chick-fil-A. I have tagged it accordingly here and on Ao3. If you have a problem with Chick-fil-A, please just skip this story.**

Summary: Emma Swan is slightly embarrassed to admit that she sometimes goes through the Chick-fil-A drive thru twice a day. She's even more embarrassed to admit she's leaving anonymous notes for the owner-operator, Killian Jones.

Nominated for Best Captain Swan Modern AU One-Shot in the OUAT Fandom Awards 2018

Rated: G

Words: about 3k

Also on Ao3

Tagging: @snowbellewells​​​​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​​​​ @kmomof4​​​​ @let-it-raines​​​​ @teamhook​​​​ @bethacaciakay​​​​ @xhookswenchx​​​​ @tiganasummertree​​​​ @shireness-says​​​​ @stahlop​​​​ @scientificapricot​​​​ @welllpthisishappening​​​​ @resident-of-storybrooke​​​​ @thislassishooked​​​​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​​​​ @kday426​​​​ @ekr032-blog-blog​​​​ @lfh1226-linda​​​​ @ultraluckycatnd​​​​ @nikkiemms @optomisticgirl​​​​ @profdanglaisstuff​​​​ @carpedzem​​​​ @ohmakemeahercules​​​​ @branlovestowrite​​​​ @superchocovian​​​​ @sherlockwhovian​​​​ @vvbooklady1256​​​​ @hollyethecurious​​​​ @winterbaby89​​​​ @delirious-latenight-laughs​​​​ @jennjenn615​​​​ @snidgetsafan​​​​ @xsajx​​​​​ @itsfabianadocarmo​​​​ @spartanguard​​​​ @hookedonapirate​

Emma Swan was not a people person. It was for this reason that the Chick-fil-A drive-thru wasn’t her sort of thing. You had to talk – face to face – with at least four people just to get your food. And they asked for your name at the beginning of the entire process. Then everyone afterwards actually used it, with a mega-watt smile on their faces. And Emma Swan never would understand the Southern phenomenon of tacking “Miss” on the front of a person’s first name. Miss Swan, she understood. Miss Emma? Not so much.

But she had to hand it to those cheery employees walking up and down the line with their i-Pads. They were efficient. Which was one of the reasons Emma put aside her anti-social ways on her way to work. No matter how much of a hurry she was in, she could count on Chick-fil-A. She could be in and out of that line in five minutes flat.

Then there was the coffee. Sustainably sourced by local farmers. Or something. There was a big poster about it in the lobby. All Emma knew was that it was damn good, especially for a fast food place. And then there were chickin-minis. She had Mary Margaret to blame for getting her hooked on those. Or more accurately, her four year old son Leo. Tiny nuggets wrapped in tiny fluffy biscuits. Where had those been all her life? It was her new favorite food. Okay, breakfast food. Grilled cheese and onion rings still held the one and two spot.

So she gladly put up with the bright smiles and the over-the-top hospitality for a decent breakfast a couple of times a week. Or three. Okay, four max.

But she was not going to be one of those people who had drunk the kool-aid and made odes to how wonderful Chick-fil-A was on You Tube. And then Mary Margaret had to go and introduce her to the sweet iced tea.

“You can’t re-locate to Georgia and not drink sweet tea,” she had argued with Emma while practically shoving the straw in her mouth.

“So what next, MM? I have to start monogramming my towels?”

But she had begrudgingly took a sip anyway, and there was no turning back. Then she discovered the lemonade, and the cookies and cream milk shake. Some days, she was hearing “It’s been a pleasure to serve you, Miss Emma” twice in twelve hours.

She was one “Eat Mor Chikin” cow from making a You Tube video while holding a Styrofoam cup with a red straw.

To make her obsession even more embarrassing, it led – albeit indirectly – to her being an actual- to-God secret admirer. Who left anonymous love notes. Seriously. What had she become?

Killian Jones, according to his name tag, was the owner-operator of Emma’s neighborhood Chick-fil-A. She had figured immediately that he wasn’t just a regular burger- er – chicken sandwich flipper because he was wearing slacks and a navy blue button down shirt – no tie. His chest hair must need plenty of breathing room because he always had at least the first five buttons of his shirt undone (not that she was counting or anything). The first morning they met, he hadn’t started out on the best foot, inadvertently insulting her food preferences.

When he handed Emma her food, Killian Jones had leaned over slightly to glance in her back seat, simultaneously handing her a coupon.

“We’re doing a special promotion today. Would your little one like a gift card for a free cone?”

His words sort of trailed off when he saw that the backseat was empty. Emma had barked out a wry laugh.

“Uh, there’s no kid back there. Sorry.”

“My apologies,” he muttered as he stood quickly, his face flaming and his hand lifting to rest behind his ear, “I just assumed. You ordered the chicken minis, and usually people get those for their kids . . . “

Normally, Emma would have been insulted, but he seemed so genuinely embarrassed, that she simply chuckled. “Well, I have been told that I have the appetite of a twelve year old.”

The smile that he gave her was lopsided and almost sinful. He arched a very expressive brow, and leaned towards her open window with a conspiratorial whisper. “I must admit, I rather fancy them myself. I mean, they’re chicken nuggets in little biscuits. What’s not to love?”

“I know, right? It’s revolutionary.”

They gazed at one another way longer than necessary, threatening to bring imbalance to the well-oiled drive thru machine. Killian blinked, as if suddenly remembering where he was, awkwardly cleared his throat, and then handed Emma her coffee.

“It’s been a pleasure to serve you. God bless.”

In a slight daze, Emma took the coffee, noting the brush of his fingers against hers like she was some fifteen year old with a crush. It wasn’t until she was driving away that his accent registered with hers. Instead of a southern drawl, it had been a lilting Irish accent.

Intriguing.

********************************************************

Later that day, Emma’s hand literally shook as she took the Styrofoam cup of lemonade from the drive thru. For a brief moment, she considered chickening out – pun completely intended – but then shook off her fear and resolutely snatched the envelope from the passenger seat of her Bug.

“Could you give this to your owner-operator?”

“Okay,” the girl server said with a smile and a nod as she took the note, “we always like to hear how we can better serve our customers. Is there anything I can do to make your experience here better?”

“Oh,no!” Emma said quickly, making a quick slashing motion with her hand. “It isn’t a complaint. Quite the opposite actually. Just . . . “ she nervously bit her lower lip, “don’t tell him my name or . . . anything. Okay?”

The girl gave a slightly different smile this time as she pocketed the note. “Sure thing, ma’am.”

Emma couldn’t tell if the smile was just relief or a kind of knowing. Maybe the girl thought it was Emma giving her boss her phone number. Maybe women were frequently passing notes to Killian Jones. She wouldn’t be surprised. Emma’s face flamed red as she drove away.

It wasn’t like it was that kind of note. All it said was, “You made a hectic morning bearable. Thank you.” For a company that emphasized customer service so much, it was really just a thumbs up for a job well done. Like a positive review on Amazon. Nothing more.

********************************************************

Killian Jones was there again when Emma stopped to get a quick breakfast. This time, he arched a knowing brow when her yellow Bug pulled up to the curb.

“Ah, Miss Emma Swan once again. Your chicken minis, m’lady, and I must say, a fine dining choice for a woman of mature tastes.”

He gave a mock bow as he passed the bag through the window, and Emma was mortified when a giggle made its way past her lips. He waggled his eyebrows at her, to which she rolled her eyes. Yet, he had remembered her.

She cleared her throat as she took the bag, and then asked him, “I was wondering about the accent. Isn’t it the wrong one?”

At first, he furrowed his brow. “The wrong one . . . oh! You mean, as in, why don’t I go around saying mornin’ ma’am, or ya’ll have a good day now?”

Emma giggled again at his horrible impression of a Southern accent and shook her head. “Yeah, that’s what I mean. Your accent is . . . Irish?”

“Aye. And if you’re wondering how I ended up in Atlanta, well, the short version is I came across the pond as a kid.”

Emma nodded. It was about all she was going to get. She was sitting in a drive thru with at least half a dozen other cars behind her. So she simply nodded, tilted her head in a way that was only slightly flirtatious and said, “I like it.”

*****************************************************

The rest of the day sucked, to put it bluntly. The scumbag she was staking out took hours to show up, she twisted her ankle chasing him down, and she never did get to eat lunch. So today was a cookies and cream milkshake type of day.

And today the note she asked the girl at the drive thru to pass along to Killian Jones said, “I’m glad you moved here. It’s a long way from Ireland, but . . . welcome home – I hope.”

******************************************************

“Is that required?”

On this particular morning, it was pretty cold outside, and Killian had kept his banter at a minimum as he handed Emma her order. So maybe she was grasping at straws for a little interaction. Or maybe it was a legitimate question.

“Is what required?” he asked, both eyebrows jumping slightly.

“God bless,” Emma clarified, “everyone here says it. Is it company policy or something?”

Killian shrugged, “Sort of. I mean, not officially. You can’t make someone use religious language, of course. But we’re encouraged to if it’s something we believe in.” He pulled the collection of necklaces he always wore around his neck free from his pea coat and scarf. He grasped a pendant shaped like a cross and waved it at Emma. “And I’m a good Irish Catholic boy.”

The smile he gave her belied his words, especially when his tongue darted out to swipe at his bottom lip. Emma cocked her head to the side and gave him a teasing smile.

“Not so sure you’re always a good boy.”

He leaned down, lowering his voice to a timbre that did something to Emma’s insides. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Emma rolled her eyes as he leaned back with a triumphant grin. Then his features became suddenly sincere.

“However, Swan, I do wish you every blessing. I mean that.”

**************************************************

The cold weather made it a “second cup of coffee in the afternoon” sort of day. But she had brought in a skip so easily she could have done it blind-folded, her little nephew Leo stopped by her office with a picture he drew of the two of them in preschool, and Mary Margaret insisted she come over that night for David’s famous chili.

And Killian Jones wished her every blessing.

On today’s note, Emma wrote, “You make me smile. That’s rare. Thank you. (Or should I say, God bless?)”

She had hesitated including that last line. After all, she didn’t want to give herself away. But was there any harm in dropping a hint or two? She shook her head, sealed the envelope, and passed it off to the girl who received all of her notes for Killian. Emma now knew her name – Holly.

And did Holly just wink when she took her note?

*************************************************

“Lovely as always, Miss Swan.”

Killian’s hand lingered as he passed Emma her coffee. She blinked and opened her mouth to say something, and –

Jumped a foot in the air when the SUV behind her honked. She and Killian both laughed, and he shuffled backwards, his face turning red. His smile was a broad one that dimpled both cheeks and crinkled the corners of his eyes.

That day, Emma’s note read, “I find myself looking forward to your smiles. You’ve got a great one, but you’ve probably heard that before. Anyway, just wanted to let you know it always brightens my day.”

**************************************************

Today it was raining, and yet the employees of Chick-fil-A were still there, bravely traversing the drive-thru line in ponchos, their i-Pads encased in water proof plastic. Killian stood huddled beneath the awning at the service door, in a thick navy blue raincoat. Raindrops had gathered on his eyelashes, making the blue of his eyes sparkle in the gray misty haze of the Georgia rain.

“Wow,” Emma quipped when he handed her the to-go bag, “this is dedication. And still telling me, it’s a pleasure to serve you.”

His eyes seemed to light up even more as he smiled at her. “For you, Swan, it is more than a pleasure.”

That day, her note read, “Your blue eyes make a rainy day a little brighter.”

It was the most blatantly flirtatious note she had left, but she no longer cared.

************************************************

“Your accent is the wrong one too, you know.”

Emma smiled broadly as she leaned against the open window of her Bug. Killian made no move to give her her food, swinging the bag idly in his hand. She shrugged.

“Yeah, I moved around a lot growing up. Minnesota. Portland. I moved here a few months ago. I had been living in Tallahassee, but my foster sister wanted me here to be close to family. There’s way more work here in bail bonds anyway.”

Killian nodded as he handed her the bag of chicken minis and her coffee. “Well, Swan, welcome home . . . I hope.”

He winked before turning his back to receive the next order. Emma’s jaw dropped, but she had the sense to ease out of the line and onto the highway.

Did he know? To test it out, her note to him that day read, “I’ve never really felt at home anywhere. This is getting close. You’ve helped make it feel that way.”

**************************************************

Emma was only half listening to Mary Margaret as she set the table in her and David’s eat-in kitchen. Their house was small, but quaint, and was in a great neighborhood. They had been willing to buy a smaller house rather than keep renting in the apartment complex, knowing the back yard and park down the street were better for Leo. It worked out for Emma too, as she spent way more time here than in her lonely one bedroom apartment.

Mary Margaret was lecturing Emma about something – probably about how she ought to be more social – but Emma’s mind was on Killian Jones. Had he gotten her latest note yet? Would he figure out who she was? If so, would he think she was a total stalker?

“ . . . so since you keep giving me excuses, I just decided to ask Killian over for dinner tonight.”

The name tore Emma immediately from her daydreaming. “I’m sorry? What did you say?”

Mary Margaret shook her head at Emma. “I said set one more place because I invited that guy I told you about over for dinner.”

Emma set down the stack of forks she had been laying at each place and waved both hands back and forth. “Whoa, whoa, wait a minute. You said his name was, what?”

Mary Margaret had been going on and on about her and David’s former neighbor at the apartments and how he would be perfect for Emma. But surely that couldn’t be the same Killian as her drive-thru Killian. Could it? Okay, so Killian wasn’t exactly a common name . . .

“Killian Jones,” Mary Margaret answered with an exasperated sigh.

Emma shook her head rapidly. “Killian Jones? What . . . what does he do for a living?”

Mary Margaret grabbed the forks Emma had abandoned. “He’s the owner-operator of the Chick-fil-A near here. I was going to introduce you the day you went with me and Leo, but Killian was at some training thing at corporate.”

Emma grabbed the back of a chair as the room started to spin. Crap. She had to go and open herself up in that damn note today. And Mary Margaret just had to invite him over for dinner, tonight of all nights.

This was going to be interesting.

*****************************************************

Killian was just as surprised as she was when he arrived at the Nolans. Apparently, Mary Margaret had gushed on about her “sister,” but had failed to mention a name. They told Mary Margaret and David about their interactions in the drive thru, and everyone had a good laugh about it. What a small world! How ironic! That sort of thing. Killian seemed no different than normal. Maybe he hadn’t gotten the note yet?

Emma, on the other hand, was wound tight. Maybe things had been more comfortable between them when there was a car door and a time restraint. Or maybe it was all those stupid notes hanging over Emma’s head. Whatever it was, it made Emma’s face feel like it was stuck in a perpetual blush. She couldn’t think of a damn thing to say, and Mary Margaret and David were not-so-subtly trying to play matchmaker as they attempted to steer the conversation Emma’s way. But all she could do was give one word answers and stare at her plate.

“Well,” Killian said with a satisfied sigh, “I can’t tell you Mary Margaret how delicious this was. Working at a restaurant all day, the last thing I feel like doing when I get home is cook. This was amazing, really.”

Mary Margaret beamed at his compliment. “Well, we are pleased to have you. You should come over more often. We miss you. Right, David?”

“Yeah,” David chuckled, shoving Killian’s shoulder, “I’ve got no one to watch hockey games with anymore. It’s not really a popular sport around here.”

“The notes were from me,” Emma blurted out.

Everyone immediately fell silent at Emma’s completely out of context outburst. Except for Leo, who ran his fork across his plate with a loud screech and demanded to know what was for dessert.

Emma lifted her gaze from her lap to meet Killian’s. “The notes that kept arriving at Chick-fil-A in the afternoons? They were all from me.” She let out a long, shaky breath.

“I know,” was all Killian said in response.

Emma’s eyes widened. “I – I thought you might. When did you figure it out?”

He chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I suspected, or hoped, it was you from the start. You see, every note corresponded with our morning interactions. But of course, today confirmed it. I was testing you by quoting one of your notes, and then when the note this afternoon was about home . . . “

He trailed off, a grin splitting his face.

“You hoped it was me from the start?”

He nodded, and Emma just sat there grinning right back at him like a fool. Mary Margaret hurriedly jumped from the table, scooping up Leo.

“Hey!” the little boy protested. “What about dessert?”

“We’ll eat cookies in front of the TV,” Mary Margaret muttered in response, “David, now.”

Killian and Emma chuckled as their matchmakers hurried from the kitchen. Emma felt as nervous as she had been back in junior high when she went to her first school dance. Killian rose from his seat across from her and came to take the seat beside her. They both shifted their chairs to be a little closer.

“I felt something between us the moment I first saw you,” Killian said.

“You mean when you offered my non-existent kid a free ice cream cone?”

Killian chuckled and ducked his head. How a man could be so sexy, cocky, and bashful all at the same time was incredibly endearing. He lifted his eyes to meet hers, a silent question passing between them. Emma nodded imperceptibly as they both leaned towards one another. When Killian’s lips met hers, the contact was charged with an intense attraction she had never felt before.

Except when his fingers had brushed hers in the drive thru.

Those fingers now carded through her hair as she tilted her head to deepen the kiss. His lips were soft against hers, but his kisses were firm and passionate. His other hand came up to gently caress her face, his thumb tracing her jaw and coming to rest on her chin. Emma pulled back, giving him a shy smile, which he returned. Then they resumed kissing, their tongues entwined in a dance so perfect, it felt as if they had been molded to fit together. When they finally parted, they were breathing heavily. Emma rested her forehead against his and sighed in complete contentment.

“Emma,” he murmured. God, she loved the way he said her name!

“Yeah,” she mumbled back dreamily.

“It’s definitely been a pleasure to serve you.”

[foodbytesback]

I Try One of Everything at Salt City Market (Part 1)

I often rag on my hometown of Syracuse for not having a particularly creative restaurant scene.  A city with largely Italian and Irish populations has, surprisingly, yielded a lot of forgettable Italian family restaurants and Irish pubs that all kind of blur together.  Admittedly, I’m also a bit of a shut-in (especially with the pandemic), so I won’t claim to know all the ins-and-outs of some of the more “underground” restaurants.  So when I first heard about the Salt City Market, a collective of vendors selling foods from a wide variety of ethnicities, I was excited to hear about something new coming to that seeming-abandoned lot downtown.  They’ve had plenty of setbacks (most, obviously, pandemic-related), but now they’re finally open for our dining pleasure.      

This project has been almost a year in the making, so it’s no surprise that, on the day of the grand opening, people were so excited that everyone ended up running out of food.  Being the fool that I am, I assumed that going at 4:00 on the second day would be less busy.  We ended up waiting in line for about 10 minutes, as they were being very diligent about enforcing occupancy limits and getting people in and out as safely as possible.  Even though it was about 15°F out, I would say the overall experience was well worth the wait.  

I honestly was too busy trying to figure out what to get and also staying 6 feet away from everyone else that I didn’t pay much mind to the decor within the space. I didn’t even notice music was playing until one of my friends pointed out they were playing a song she liked (I know I’ve heard this song dozens of times, I could have sworn it was Animal Collective but after scouring their discography I guess it isn’t).  It had that kind of hip, start-up-y vibe that, when juxtaposed with the run-down apartment building across the street, would have raised questions about gentrification if it weren’t for the sheer number of POC chefs and entrepreneurs involved.  

So, without further ado, let’s talk about the food.  When I say I’m trying “one of everything,” I guess I actually mean “one thing from each vendor (or, rather, for this week, half of them),” which may be a little misleading, but let’s be real, I can’t afford one of everything.  (I briefly considered emailing them to see if I could get some sort of “Media Pass,” but I figured even if they did things like that it would require me to actually have readers lmao) Also, some places had also started to run out of things again, but I will do my best to review what they were able to give me without a sense of “ugh, this isn’t what I wanted.”  And obviously, since we got takeout and drove like 20 minutes to get the food back home, I’m not going to be judging the food in terms of things like “it was cold,” or “the breading got soggy from the condensing steam in the package.”

BIG IN BURMA- Samosas- $5

2 disclaimers- 1.) Of all the ethnicities represented at the market, I have the least knowledge and/or exposure to Burmese cuisine.  Judging by the menu and my basic understanding of geography, I’d say the simplest (and thus probably not super accurate) way to describe it is a cross between Indian and Thai food. 2.) I used to work with the dad of the owner, so I felt like trying Big In Burma first was a priority.  

While I initially wanted to try the Nan Gyi Thoke, they were out of noodles so I eventually settled on an order of samosas.  I say “settled,” but really, is there really anything better than a dumpling?

The dough was flaky and crisp, almost like phyllo dough.  The potato and onion filling was simple (and in my opinion could have used a little more of the curry spice blend they used), but tasty. The sauce that accompanied them isn’t described anywhere on their menu, but tastes a lot like Frank’s Red Hot but with a little more of a vinegary tang to it.  All in all, a great little snack that, despite being a fried dumpling, didn’t get too heavy, which was good because I had a lot more food to eat.

FIRECRACKER THAI KITCHEN- Spicy Basil Chicken- $13.50

My first thought upon tasting the chicken by itself was “Hey, that’s way too much fish sauce, I’m probably not gonna eat this whole thing.”  However, once you mix the chicken and the rice together, the flavors become much more well balanced, and I did end up eating the whole thing, thank you very much.  My biggest gripe, however, was that this “Spicy Basil” Chicken didn’t deliver very strongly on the “Spicy” or the “Basil,” two things I love in Thai food but found myself wanting more of.  The fried egg was good, though.  I’m always a sucker for a fried egg.

It might also be worth mentioning that one of my friends got the “Street Style Eggs Over Rice,” which, despite the menu description including other things, was just a fried egg over a pile of rice and a cup of sauce.

MISS PRISSY’S- Fried Chicken Wings- $12.50

(I hope I’m remembering that price right, the online version of their menu seems incomplete.)

Miss Prissy’s seems to be one of the busier stands, given they were probably the hardest hit of the ones I went to when it came to shortages.  They were out of the braised oxtail and pepper steak that were my first and second choices, so I “settled” on the wings.  Once again, that’s not a bad thing.  

The breading on the wings was just the right thickness, and was somehow still crispy after traveling.  They were also a very good size, too. The only negative thing I could say about the wings was that it seemed like they were seasoned after cooking, instead of seasoning the breading, which lead to some pieces being more well seasoned than others.  (I’m noticing a trend of me thinking everything was underseasoned… did I catch the ‘rona without noticing or something…) 

The mac & cheese may look like my mom’s sad, dry mac at first glance, but it is NOT.  It was much creamier and cheesier than it looks.  The green beans, however, were pretty much just as sad and probably-canned as they look.  I look forward to getting the collards some day, once they stop running out.

(Also, this is really neither here nor there, but the leftover samosa sauce goes really well with these wings.)

PIE’S THE LIMIT- Oat and Berry Slice- $3.50

While they do have an interesting selection of savory pies, I decided to get something more dessert-y to round out my night of hedonism- uhh I mean supporting local business.

The crust was surprisingly tender and flaky for a vegan dough (ie no butter/lard/etc).  The berry filling was a pretty much perfect blend of tart and sweet that you would want from a pie filling.  The oat topping clearly uses some kind of steel cut oat- or at least something other than the instant oats I’m accustomed to in streusel toppings like this- because it has a more toothsome chew to it, which I thought added a nice contrast in texture.        

All-in-all, everything was very good, with most of the shortcomings easily being excused as these businesses try to keep up with how busy they’ve been.   I’m much as it kills me to have to wait, I’m probably going to have to wait a week or two for part 2 for the crowds to die down a little.

[rennyji]

July 16th Mid Afternoon Tweets...

July 16th Mid Afternoon Tweets...

Milliard organic cacao power is got to be the cleanest chemical free healthiest version of this superfood…can find it on Amazon...

The song “Take It Off” by Kesha- the highlight of my Thursday evening…

Doesn’t this look like Kenny from South Park: ((><))

Whatever happened to Avril Lavigne? Liked her songs “What the hell?” and “Skater Boy.”

Heard some Mariah Carey Songs, like “Obsessed” or “Touch My Body”…there just aren’t enough Mariah Carey’s…

“Aisha” - by Outlandish- another great song…

“La Vida Es Bella” music video…love the looks and moves of the female singer…

---

On Monday, after eating lunch, I shook hands with this guy named "Wah." He’s Asian, friendly, and I couldn’t help but be reminded of the martial artists that Master Roshi grew up with, in the Dragon Ball series, when he was fighting King Piccolo…-

-that is one cool dude, and if he does know martial arts, I hope he’ll patiently teach me...

---

so a thought...-

So there’s a Biblical saying, “Anyone who loves father, mother, etc. more than Me will not inherit “The Kingdom.” Let’s assume “The Kingdom,” in this context is, “salvation”. Let’s look at it in the perspective of people who follow instructions or impulses to harass others, or the orchestrators doing this Elleven+ years phenomena. You may crave escaping punishment for this or getting the best stuff in life, but if you know what ur doing is wrong to reach your favored destination, with the sole intent of saving ur a*s, not only do you risk the ultimate Salvation, but you also risk the earthly safe place you may be seeking. Why? Because you love your own interests more than what is intrinsically right. Doing what’s right results in its own reward. If you think doing the wrong thing is the only way you see “out of something”, then there’s another Biblical saying to keep in mind: “if ur eye causes you to sin, then cut it out, for it is better to go though life with one eye, then your whole being, or all of you, being thrown into Gehenna I.e. hell or eternal damnation. This does not mean to literally cut off ur eye. But, in order to do the right thing, if you have to risk getting in trouble, people thinking ill of you, or going to jail or whatever, then that is better in the long run, then your loved ones being cursed and you experiencing eternal damnation. Aim for the right thing in life, whatever the cost, for what your Father sees “in secret” or from the good of your heart, will be rewarded in time.

---

so, another thought...-

So in 30 years of life, Ive run into all sorts of people. Particularly people of particular positions…when it comes to those in power, Americans tend to have an open mind/adventurous nature to protocols vs. immigrants or their non American born counterparts, who practice strict adherence to protocols. Now, in life, the open mind gives soul to your work. What makes some of the non native Americans practice strict adherence? I mean there’s nothing wrong with strict adherence, but you gotta look at it from their perspective. These people represent those of their background. They are role models, they are people who struggled past biases and various obstacles to reach the highest point of some places. Discipline and hard work defines them. They may be experiencing the reward of a life of struggle. I mean when you think American, you think toward an easy supportive family/financial background, especially of Caucasians. Maybe they really don’t have to struggle that much with at least biases because they are the stereotyped face of the modern world. Among immigrants and minorities, it is thought, if nothing else, that stereotyped Americans, have at least the bare minimum of financial support. In a country with everything, this may encourage liberal adventurous or open mindedness to rules, regulations, and protocols-that said, there can be situations where that goes too far and causes problems. Life is about balance.

What’s an example of what I’m saying? I was recently at Macy’s where a manager was hell bent on getting me to return something online for the sake of protocol that she didn’t think with an open mind and heart. If her register was not working and they don’t have IT support, the obvious thing would be to encourage someone to try another register.  As she sees me going to another register from afar, she decides to follow me and watch me from a distance…wtf…really takin that protocol cr*p to a whole new level. Am I something from the street for you to monitor? Do you know how much I’ve wasted on that mediocre establishment, riding on the image of expensive quality from years ago? So that’s mindless rule following on an extreme level where I don’t know what demon possessed her or what installed mental pair of glasses or extraneous information she was seeing me through.

Then there’s Brother O’Conner from my time at the Iona Prep high school. He belongs to the order of Irish Christian Brothers. For collecting enough cans for the Thanksgiving drive, he rewarded the entire school with a day off, despite allocation of day offs for snow days and having a set amount of school days a year. Everyone enjoyed, teachers adjusted, and no problems erupted from this deviation of protocol. Brother O’Conner passed on, and although I only viewed him from a distance, he lives in my memory in the magical like reward, of a day off, for doing something good. I mean, then there was another Brother who took over, after Brother O’Conner left. No stories like the aforementioned to remember with the second Brother and the personality wasn’t lively. If you want to be in the minds and heart of people, or make a difference, you need to ask questions, not be blind followers, and understand the “meaning and purpose” of rules in place of mechanically being obedient to them.

I mean when modern day youth think of religion or Christianity, they think it’s rules and regulations that judge you, make you feel like cr*p, and that can be summed up with “don’t do this/don’t do that…” but religion is more and primarily about enhancing your mind to believe and achieve anything in this life. 

Christ was a rule challenger. In the face of the laws of Judaism in His time, He says, In Matthew 5:17-18, "Do not think that I have come to abolish the law or the prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them.” What does it mean to fulfill the law and prophets? It means Christ wants us to rise above mechanical following of rules. I believe the law in His time says to stone prostitutes. I mean does anyone choose to be a prostitute? At the same time, a prostitute may have more humanity in them than their priestly counterparts. Hence the story of Mary Magdalene. She was about to be stoned by the Jewish elders, according to law, or tradition, but Christ’s sees her heart, who she is inside amidst all those layers. He experiences compassion- a trait not common to Americans or police or some doctors or professors or whatever. (I think it was Shrek who said people are like onions: they have layers.) On the surface, yes, Mary Magdalene a prostitute. But she may have potential for a kind loving heart, an open mind, a potential for greatness. On the basis of the notion of love for all human beings, Christ challenges tradition/law, miraculously writes up the sins of the Jewish elders for them to see, and says, “ let the one without sin cast the first stone.” Mary Magdalene ended up being one of Christ’s most faithful followers. Jewish tradition/law had biases toward tax collectors because they were depicted as greedy, working with foreigners, and overexerting their authority among people. Christ took in, even a tax collector, to be one of his 12 Apostles…-12 Apostles, because, if I remember correctly, it had to do with the 12 tribes of Israel. 

Point being in all this, go beyond mechanical rules, regulations, traditions. In life there is only one rule: The Golden Rule-“Love God first and foremost, and your neighbor as yourself.”

---

[abiteofnat]

TIME TO GET APPLE SPICE(Y).... 

Because we only have a week left of October and if that isn’t the damn craziest thing I don’t know what is!!! Somehow this month has flown past in an orange-tinged glow, between making festive drinks for every. single. customer. and eating as many seasonal donuts as possible... it’s been good. I got to visit an apple orchard in Wisconsin, our family-favorite pumpkin patch + donut plant, and literally forget what it’s like to put on other clothes than Timberlands and a giant sweater because the chill has set in suddenly and permanently. My friend asked me to start up watching Christmas movies this week with her to which my first impulse was to scream and deny, deny, deny, we only have two months until Christmas... plus I haven’t had my annual viewing of “A Nightmare Before Christmas” so that’s on the agenda for every single night this week leading up to Halloween. Can you tell I’m a sucker for fall?!?!

The one thing I don’t loveee about these autumn months is that there’s an overwhelming assumption that because I am a (fake) blonde female who slaves over Instagram like it’s my religious literature of choice, I must adore pumpkin spice lattes. It’s like a joke everyone in society has formulated- the minute it’s October, should I even mention “I want coffee” someone will go “HAHA BET YOU MEAN A PUMPKIN SPICE LATTE YOU STARBUCKS CLOWN, YEAH IT’S YOUR SEASON YOU CAN COME OUT OF HIBERNATION YOU PUMPKIN SPICE SLAYER.” Which like, yeah, I’ll enjoy a sip or two, but the hot version tastes like melted pumpkin pie and it’s kinda gross. Heckle me all you want, you’re not going to get the satisfaction of me ordering a venti-nonfat-sugarfree-half-caf-pumpkin-spice-latte-with-extra-syrup-and-a-lack-of-dignity. Sorry. 

I thought for this post I would just do a list of fall-favorites to guide you through the last weekend of this holy month and into November, which I think is a highly underrated month and deserves way more loving. November means cozy, cold nights but not snow yet, hot chocolate, the anticipation of holiday decor popping up everywhere, and a hell of a lot of dranks once classes end for winter break. I’ve got four weeks on the clock until I am officially halfway through graduate school and I’ll be damned if I don’t celebrate during every family occasion when mom feels ~spicy~ and puts out the wine.

ANYWAY, GO ENJOY THIS FALL-TIME FUN. 

1. Sutter’s Ridge Family Farm 

This place is my garden of eden. I had never been apple picking until a couple weeks ago when my friend Sheila and I went to Madison, Wisconsin and decided to spend the Sunday morning of our trip finding some fresh-picked fruit, and after a LOT of searching orchards on Instagram for authentic photos of what to expect we found Sutter’s Ridge. And it did not disappoint, not even a little. The drive there alone is stunning as you have to take a lot of long back roads along fields of wheat and grass to get to the private drive that takes you up a hill to the parking area, which after you park and jump out of the car hits you with an overwhelming sense of nature’s beauty. The whole farm looks out over rolling hills and is very quiet and picturesque; of course once you enter the farm it’s a different story because there are kids screaming and adults screaming because the kids are screaming and you really just have to take it with a grain of salt. But the prices are low; $5 gets you admission to everything and you get a plastic bag to go into the dozen rows of apples to pick as many as you please, for about $1 a pound. What a freaking steal; in Chicago an apple costs like $6 and it’s moldy. Not really but you get the picture. 

The trees are absolutely bursting with apples, and there’s enough room for everyone and their literal mom to wander. You can also pet some horses, pick out pumpkins, and enjoy brats and baked goods such as raspberry bars and the pumpkin bars with cheesecake frosting, which blew me the fuck away. I shelled out a whole $2 for a giant hunk of pumpkin cake and oh my god, it was probably made  20 minutes before and so delicious. Definitely head out here if you’re looking for a fun day/ weekend trip! 

2. Didier Farms

I have an ongoing theory I was actually born from a pumpkin here in 1995, because this might be my favorite place in the world. Lincolnshire, IL doesn’t offer much but Didier Farms is the only redemption it needs. My family has been coming here for pumpkins and all things fall for as long as I can remember, and the year I was studying abroad in London and they went without me was one of the worst days of my life. I’m not being dramatic; there are only so many family traditions that really hold up and this is one of them that I’m intent on never letting pass us by. No matter how busy October is, you bet you ass we’re going to Didier Farms. 

There are one million great things about Didier, from the hundreds of pumpkins looking for a home to the corn on the cob that’s dripping with butter, but the apple cider donuts easily take the cake. These donuts are handmade and are soft, moist, packed with cinnamon and coated with a sugar dust that melts in your mouth and makes you absolutely powerless against them. Imagine your first love- you know that rush that fills your body, how you can feel your heartbeat in your neck and your toes, and you only stay alive for that next moment you can see them? That’s me and these donuts. (Pictured- sister and these donuts)

Go for the donuts, stay for the terrible carnival rides and the hot apple cider, leave never and build a home among the corn maze. 

3. Hopleaf Bar

You’re going to need a filling dinner once all these day-trips are over, so make it a plan to head to Hopleaf Bar in Andersonville because the beer is flowing and the food is fantastic. Not only is Andersonville the perfect section of the city to walk around in on a cool fall night, given all the stores, coffee shops, and inviting restaurants, but it’s also not incredibly busy so it has a relaxed dining vibe. Hopleaf begins as a bar when you walk in, picture a very typical Irish bar with regulars at the counter but cute moms in turtlenecks sitting at the tables, and if you head back it turns into a stone-walled fortress of food. The decor yells old-English castle and the food supports that heartily, with options like heavy sandwiches and a lot of fried goodness. However, there are also a lot of unique salad/ vegetable-based dishes which shocks me about this place, and the menu is surprisingly diverse for the inside looking so Game of Thrones. 

I got the grilled cheese that was on sourdough, with house-made cashew butter, fig jam & raclette cheese, and that came with mac & cheese AND potato chips that I subbed for onion rings. That is a real dinner I ate and I felt definitely not slender and light afterwards... but no regrets whatsoever. The mac & cheese was creamy and baked to be crisp on top, and the CBJ was crunchy on the outside but warm and gooey on the inside. The onion rings were more shoestring-like than I normally enjoy, but served with some sort of chipotle aioli I was digging it. Surprise surprise, I went with my foodie friend Erin, and we smashed everything on our plates while taking advantage of the 40-page beer list that ranges from $5- $150 pints of beer. That number is correct, they have some fancy as fuck ale there that I’m sure people order once they’ve had about 10 glasses of the $5 kind. This place was awesome, and be sure to get here wayyy in advance of your planned dining time because the wait stacks up fast!!! 

Those are my top 3 fall favorites right now, enjoy this weekend and let me know what else I need to check off my list! 

Until next time, Happy Eating!

-Natalie 

[businessweekme]

The 16 Dishes You Should Have Eaten in 2018

The year 2018 has not been a great one for the food world. There was the loss of two of the brightest people in the business, Anthony Bourdain and the Pulitzer Prize-winning Los Angeles critic Jonathan Gold. Likewise, it was hard to find one new, unifying restaurant that captured everyone’s imagination.

That doesn’t mean there weren’t captivating dishes. In fact, these 16 were positively remarkable. They run the gamut from just-caught king salmon in Alaska to exquisitely aged Irish beef in London. There’s a lot of bread—it was, after all, the 2017 dish of the year and still looming large—but no noodles. New York introduced two places you’d assume would make the cut: Missy Robbins’s pasta-focused Misi followed her breakout, Lilia, and David Chang reimagined ramen at the new Momofuku. Yet different dishes stood out more on their menus instead.

To find out what those dishes are, and the 14 other most outstanding ones, read on. And grab a snack while you’re at it—you’re going to get hungry.

Sukchae | Atomix, New YorkUnlike most dishes that feature a dollop of caviar, what grabs your attention with this exquisite Korean omakase counter’s cooked vegetable course is not the pricey fish roe. Chef-owner Junghyun Park layers tender celery root on a bed of fresh, yogurtlike buttermilk cheese—and adds the caviar, sure. But then comes the unforgettable component: creamy, softly sweet hazelnut sauce that Park pours over it all to finish the dish. It balances the saline pop of caviar, the silkiness of the celery root, and the tang from the cheese.

Whole Roast Duck With Duck Confit Salad | Spoken English, Washington, D.C.This small, standing-room-only restaurant (literally) is hidden in the groovy Line hotel, a new D.C. hotspot that once was a church. The dining room consists of two short counters, which are an extension of the kitchen; it’s like snacking at a friend’s house. On the menu are twisted classics such as chicken skin dumplings from chefs Erik Bruner Yang and Matthew Crowley, as well as the best duck I ate this year—a time when there’s been a lot of good duck out there. Here it’s cured in tea for four to five days before being roasted over wood and carved up. The legs are confited and tossed into a salad, the breast is thickly sliced, and the supple tortillas to roll it all up in are made with duck fat instead of lard.

Roasted Tomatoes With Hot Honey | Misi, BrooklynA few years ago at Lilia, chef Missy Robbins made a long, curly stretch of malfadini noodle with buttery pink peppercorns New York’s most sought-after dish. At her new place, Misi, in the southern reaches of Brooklyn’s Williamsburg neighborhood, the best thing isn’t pasta but oven-blasted tomatoes. Roasting for a couple of hours intensifies their sweetness, which is then hit with a drizzle of Calabrian chile-infused honey, further punching up the shriveled halves. A licorice bite from the cracked coriander seeds and fennel, tucked into the oil, takes it over the top.

Maine Chutoro Hand Roll | Mr. Tuna, Portland, MaineInstagram: Mr. Tuna on Instagram: “End Labor Day…

Forget lobster and oysters. The local bluefin tuna belly that Jordan Rubin gets in late summer and the fall is the seafood standout in Portland, Maine. In mid-2017, Rubin bought a hot dog cart and started making hand rolls and sushi burritos on the downtown streets. His operation quickly grew into a mini food truck empire that now includes a space in the Portland Public Market. The hand roll’s nori wrapper is notably crisp because Rubin keeps it warmed in an electric toaster before wrapping it around tangy rice and fatty, melt-in-your-mouth chopped fish mixed with sea salt, scallions, and potent fresh wasabi sauce.

Poulet Roti | Frenchette, New YorkTwenty years ago the roast chicken at Balthazar, carved tableside, made the bird chic in Manhattan. Now the chefs who helped put it on the map there—Lee Hanson and Riad Nasr—have reintroduced it at their beyond-buzzy Frenchette. Not simply a vehicle for crispy skin, it’s a superbly juicy and supple bird served in a shallow casserole. Standing alongside is a separate pot of pommes purée that’s approximately half butter, and often garnished with roasted maitake mushrooms, giving you all the earthy flavors on one table.

Panna Cotta | Brawn, LondonFor those who think they never want to eat panna cotta again, it’s time you taste the triangular wedge at Columbia Street’s cult favorite wine bar, where it’s served as if it were a cake. The custard is infused with piquant cardamom and topped with charred orange slices that offset the sweetness. But the beauty of this dish is the rich double cream that chef-owner Ed Wilson sources to make it, lending a texture that’s not too gummy, not too loose—just perfect, like the best ice cream made ever-so-slightly more solid.

Aged Beef Sobrasada on Toast | Bright, LondonAt this spare new Scandi restaurant and wine bar, chefs Will Gleave and Peppe Belvedere rely on their neighbors—specifically the great local butcher shop, Hill & Szork. They take Irish sirloin that’s been aged at the shop for 45 days (there’s not enough room at Bright to age it themselves) and then grind it with funky aged beef fat and salt, pepper, and paprika. It’s served on sourdough toast brushed with more of the fat, then topped with capers and chives macerated with elderberry. It’s the platonic ideal of beef tartare.

Blum’s Coffee Crunch Cake | Valerie, Los AngelesValerie Gordon may have gained notoriety for her chocolate bars, now a common sight at coffee shops across the country, with their bold packaging and flavors such as salt and pepper with crispy rice. But the real standout of her eponymous confectionary are the classic desserts she re-creates out of fear they’re fading into oblivion. Blum’s cake is an architectural masterpiece, studded with shards of chewy, coffee-infused honeycomb that superbly contrast the coffee whipped cream oozing out between layers of tender yellow cake.

Cheese & Crackers | Elske, ChicagoThe deceptively simple dish at Michelin-starred restaurant Elske has just three components: cheese, jam, and crackers. The cheese is Wilde Weide, a two-year-old aged raw cow gouda with crystallized streaks. The jam is vanilla-infused tomato dolloped into a nest. And the crackers are made from a yeasted dough that’s doused in olive oil before baking, which gives them a superbly flaky, buttery texture, like a French pastry you didn’t know existed. Together, they’re unstoppable.

Slow-Roasted Lamb Neck Shawarma | Bavel, Los AngelesAmong the slew of promising new Middle Eastern restaurants across the U.S. is the greenery-filled Bavel in downtown L.A. Ori Menashe takes an underused cut—lamb neck—and coats it with a paste of tangy sumac and caramelized onions. The meat is roasted for hours until falling-apart tender, and the rub is baked in. It’s served with an array of sides including pickled vegetables and creamy house-made tahini, as well as the flatbreads for which the restaurant has rightly become famous.

Fried Blue Prawns | Momofuku Noodle Bar Columbus Circle, New YorkDavid Chang is on a mission to get you to eat the whole shrimp—shell, head, all of it. To accomplish this, he and his crack chef team of Tony Kim, Matthew Rudofker, and J.J. Basil have created a scintillatingly spicy coating at the new Noodle Bar in the Shops at Columbus Circle, aka the Time Warner Center. A blend of cumin, togarashi (the Japanese version of chili powder), sugar, salt, and Sichuan peppercorn is plastered onto the delicately fried shrimp, making it impossible not to eat the wafer-crisp shell along with the sweet meat inside. A spritz of lemon and an accompanying bowl of yuzu mayo cools it all down.

Dilliwala Butter Chicken | Adda, New YorkNormally, butter chicken is a forgettable staple of Indian takeaway. That all changes at the thrilling, no-frills Adda in Long Island City, Queens. The dish is recognizable only by name, and it makes you realize that all the versions you’ve had before are lame. The deep orange sauce is lit up with darkly sweet fenugreek, cardamom, cilantro root, and a generous hit of red chiles, making it much hotter than usual. The biggest difference: the local tomatoes and honey that replace the standard canned tomatoes and sugar, lending the dish a punchy freshness that cuts through that classic slick of butter on top.

Pork and Shrimp Bao Bao With Fried Egg | Kym’s, LondonWell-made dumplings are enough for most people, especially when the filling is a mix of juicy seasoned pork and chopped shrimp in a tender wonton wrapper. But at Kym’s in the Bloomberg Arcade, chef Andrew Wong, who heads the Michelin-starred A. Wong, ups the ante by frying them with eggs for extra unctuousness. The result is an Asian-style shakshuka with golden, crispy bits of white and creamy yolk enriching the already rich dumplings. The final touch is a sprinkling of scallions, sesame, and chili oil studded with alluring bits of fried onion.

Grilled Ivory King Salmon | In Bocca al Lupo, Juneau, AlaskaChef Beau Schooler of Juneau’s In Bocca al Lupo calls his dish simply “salmon offcuts,” which may be true, if perhaps a disservice to the quality of what you get on your plate: a combination of the collar, belly, tail, and head, depending on what was caught in the last 24 hours. There’s never a guarantee that he’ll have white king salmon, but if he does, order it. The incredibly fresh fish has a cleaner richness then common salmon. Salted and drizzled with olive oil, the fish gets popped into a wood-burning oven, right next to the coals, so the skin chars. The accompaniment is an equally elemental charred lemon wedge, a garlicky parsley pesto that’s intensified with a blast of fish sauce, and a finishing sprinkle of Alaskan sea salt from Sitka.

Ibérico Katsu Sando | Ferris, New YorkIt’s been a big year for sandos in New York, the most high-profile being the $185 version of the Japanese sandwich made with wagyu beef. But pay attention to the one crafted by chef Greg Proechel at Ferris that costs about one-tenth the price. Made with succulent acorn-fed Spanish pork, about ¾-inch thick, it’s egged, breaded, and fried to medium rare so it’s crunchy but still supremely juicy. The toast is judiciously brushed with a fruity, hoisin sauce and is just thick enough to keep the cutlet secure.

Ilaria Pie | Una Pizza Napoletana, New YorkPizza prince Anthony Mangieri figures he’s tried every buffalo mozzarella in the U.S. and half of the ones in Italy. He came across his favorite outside Naples—it’s grassy and slightly animal-y—and along with that classic “mozz,” he brings in a quantity that’s been wood-smoked to star on Una Pizza Napoletana’s simple, standout pie. The Ilaria, named for his wife, is a doughy delight, like a lightly charred pillow. It features pools of that smoky mozzarella paired with the refreshing snap of cherry tomatoes and arugula.

The post The 16 Dishes You Should Have Eaten in 2018 appeared first on Bloomberg Businessweek Middle East.

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[tyleroakley-obsessed]

Happy National Cheeseburger Day! Here are the more than 35 Memphis burgers – hamburgers, cheeseburgers, even a few veggie burgers – that you absolutely have to try. These are in no particular order. I list my personal favorites and controversial opinions at the bottom of this post. Leave your favorite in the comments! – A Mr. Goodburger from Roxie’s Grocery: a greasy, gooey, beloved Memphis burger in Uptown. – The West Coast Burger from Huey’s (Memphis’ classic burger restaurant, with locations across the Mid-South) comes with all the fixings, plus guacamole and Monterey Jack cheese. Huey’s West Coast Burger – The BBQ Burger from Tops, a greasy griddle burger topped with pulled pork, is a local favorite. – Get the Greek Burger from Alex’s Tavern: legendary, juicy, and served with Greek seasoning and cheese. Cash only and available very late. – Order a Soul Burger from Earnestine & Hazel’s, a Memphis burger classic, griddle fried with all the toppings (cheese, onions, and pickles, if you like) melted all together. – The Brass Door Burger, from the Brass Door Irish pub in downtown Memphis, comes with beer-braised onions and bleu cheese. – Go for an Original Jerry’s Burger from Jerry’s Sno Cones. Did you know the infamous Memphis sno cone stand has more than just cold treats? – Try the Good Night/Good Cause from Hopdoddy. Yes, it’s a chain, but $1 of proceeds for this particular burger (with cheddar, caramelized onions, caffeinated BBQ, jalapeños) are donated back to the Stax Academy. Burger from Hopdoddy – A Memphis Burger from EP’s Bar & Grill (inside The Guest House At Graceland) gets on the list because of its fried green tomato, bacon, crispy onion, and special sauce – and because it’s enormous. – The Street Burger from Arepa 901’s Venezulean food truck is piled high with cabbage, smoked ham, cheese, and special sauce. – Mojo Cheeseburger from Memphis Mojo Cafe in Bartlett is a solid choice, or you can go for one of their more adventurous burgers with all kinds of toppings. – Find the Gourmade Burger from Gourmade Food Truck at breweries and fests around town. – The Beetle Burger is from the Green Beetle, downtown’s oldest tavern. On Tuesdays, this Memphis burger is $7.99 with fries. – Do the Double Double from Dyer’s – either on Beale Street or at their Collierville location. Fried in 100-year-old grease, this burger comes with two patties and two slices of cheese. – Eat a Bibimbap Burger from Kwik Chek, which adds bibimbap veggies and a fried egg to a grilled cheeseburger. – The Wimpy from Wimpy’s – which you can get in midtown or Southaven – is a classic grilled cheeseburger with whatever toppings you can handle. Get a side of sweet potato fries with praline sauce. – The Whiskey Burger from the Flying Saucer downtown: it’s a chain, but Memphis is the only location with a menu of gourmet-style burgers. – The Poutine Burger from Kooky Canuck is available at their downtown and Cordova locations, and it’s topped with Canadian-style fries + gravy + cheese curds poutine. – The Big Deuce from the Slider Inn in midtown may not count technically as a burger even though it’s got two patties, cheese, and all the fixings, but it won’t hurt anyone to be on this list, right? (The parameters of what constitutes a Memphis burger sound like a debate we can have another time, preferably while consuming said burgers/alleged burgers.) – The LBOE Burger, from LBOE just west of Overton Square in midtown Memphis, goes all out with Havarti, garlic cream, bacon, green chilies, and yes, corn chips! The Last-Burger-On-Earth folks took home the trophy for “Best Burger” at the World Food Championships last fall, so you know they’re for real. – The John T. Edge Burger from Hog & Hominy is named for the famous food journalist and is included on a couple of “best burgers in the country” lists. – The Pub Burger at Local Gastropub (Overton or Main Street) is good for $6.99 (with fries) during lunch and all day on Mondays. Nice. – Grab a Vault Cheeseburger from The Vault on South Main, which comes with bacon and spicy mayo on a Broiche bun. – Babalu Burger from Babalu is available at their Overton Square and East Memphis locations, and people really love it. – Get a Sidestreet Burger from Sidestreet Burgers in Olive Branch, Mississippi, perhaps paired with a beer from the MS Ale House next door. – Order a Double Cheeseburger from Sear Shack’s several locations in Memphis and North MS, and top it any way you like, including with house-made pickles. Cheeseburger from Sear Shack – Go for a Prime Burger from 117 Prime, which comes with Jarlsberg, sauteéd mushrooms, and Dijonaise. You can only get it at lunch or brunch. – The Bomba-B Burger from Sabor Caribe in the Medical District is more than your average burger; this Memphis Venezuelan restaurant adds all kinds of stuff to their burger including but not limited to an egg, salami, avocado, and slaw. – The Southern Gentleman from Belly Acres in Overton Square comes with greens, bacon, and sweet potato. – Chef José’s Sirloin Burger from River Oaks in East Memphis: it’s a thick, juicy patty on a crusty bun with your choice of cheese. – The No. 1 Farm Burger can be found in the Crosstown Concourse. It’s a chain, but they are all about that grassfed local beef, so here they are. – The Homestyle Seasoned Burger from Young Avenue Deli goes beyond the cheese sticks and fries you love, with a half-pound patty – add cheese (or pimento cheese if you’re feeling frisky). – Get the Stuffed Burger from Mot & Ed’s Southern Eatery – you have the choice of Angus or Turkey patty. – Try the Pimento Cheeseburger from Sweet Grass Next Door, topped with house-made pimento cheese. – Go for an Awesome Sauce Burger from Buon Cibo in Hernando, Miss. This burger comes topped with fried onions, bacon jam, and piquillo pepper aioli. – Eat the Chopped Steak Burger from Off The Hook in Arlington, which Seth from Best Memphis Burger is quite fond of. ** – Try the Chipotle Sweet Potato Burger at Park + Cherry, inside the Dixon Gallery & Gardens, which is a sweet potato patty with tomatoes and mayo. Chipotle Sweet Potato Burger from Park + Cherry Photo via The Chubby Vegetarian. ** –  Enjoy a Veggie Burger at Mama Gaia in Overton Square; they have four different versions of their veggie burger, some of which come with cheese. ** – Try the Cashew Burger from Two Vegan Sistas near Bartlett, made from a seasoned cashew mix with lettuce and tomato. I bet 75 percent of restaurants in Memphis serve hamburgers, so this isn’t a list of every place to get a burger in Memphis. That list would take forever, and I got more stuff to write about today, y’all. I’m already thinking of several spots that have a decent burger that could (and maybe will) be added. But, as promised, the juicy, greasy details…guaranteed to make someone mad. If you follow me on Twitter you’ve heard this all before. I know a lot of people go for Tops, and rave about Babalu and hate on various “best of” winners every year; everyone has their own passionate and perfectly valid opinions. So here are mine: Brass Door’s classic cheeseburger has been perfectly cooked, juicy, and delicious every time. Flying Saucer downtown brought back that thick gastropub burger with the froufrou toppings and I. am. here. for. it. Back during the Foodnado of ’14 when a bunch of burger places opened, I thought LBOE had the best of the bunch- I actually loved the Fritos on it. For a greasy griddle burger, I crave Soul Burgers from E&H, Wimpy’s, and Sear Shack. I would probably marry the Alex’s Greek Burger if I could, but Roxy’s – my other love – would get too jealous.  I also really like Hopdoddy and Huey’s and eat them on a regular basis. This post is about a) some of the well-known Memphis burgers, b) burgers endorsed by one of my trusted sources, and c) ones I have tried and think are worth you trying. Got one you adore that’s not on the list? Leave it in the comments! We’ll have the best comment section in town! Are you a home owner in Memphis, with a broken garage door? 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