Tokyo: Eating in the land of the rising sun… and deep fried pork!

Alright, so a couple weeks ago I had the opportunity to spend several days in Tokyo. Though it was a rather brief time and though I speak a sum total of six words of Japanese, I feel qualified to  offer a profound anthropological treatise on Japanese culture.  Actually, I think I’m just going to resort to stereotypes and generalities when I say this: Japanese folks seem to be good at everything.  I don’t know why. They just are – even with things that weren’t indigenous to their culture.  Think about it: rock gardens, bonsai trees, tea ceremoniessamurai, samurai movies, anime, electronics, cars, all things cute, tv game shows, really expensive jeans, crazy ass fashions, even reggae dance hall. So, think about this level of perfectionism and attention to detail as it pertains to food, something that Japanese folk – no, ALL Asian people are obsessed with (generally speaking, of course) – and you’ll understand my excitement at having the chance to eat Japanese food in Tokyo.  I was not dissappointed.  In fact, I was kind of blown away.  Click on the bento box below for the full story.

This give a whole new meaning to Iunch box. I almost didn't want to open this box up, but my stomach thankfully got the better of me.


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A meat frenzy in the City of Angels

Oi, tuto bem?  That’s Portuguese for “what up, yo?”  Here’s another word for you: churrasco.  That’s Portuguese for Brazilian style bbq wherein a variety of meats are slow cooked over charcoal until dripping with juicy deliciousness and then sliced into little morsels for people to eat over the course of several hours.  In other words, it’s a little slice of heaven.

And thanks to Jake and Sari who opened up their home and back yard to Almir Santre whose skill, talent and marinades have no rivals that I’m aware of, I got to spend a few blessed hours in heaven last weekend. Click on the mouth watering photo below to read more about the bbq and the rest of the blessed food weekend in LA.

really, have you ever seen a prettier sight?

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I never eat French Food!

It’s my own fault really. I’ve been in France since May and mostly I buy fresh veggies, and fruit and cheese and bread (finally found a good baguette place…now I’m officially French).

The week before last I ate African food at a music festival in Marseille and just last week, I went to Morocco with my friend Jessica. In actuality, going to Morocco is quite the French thing to do: most Moroccans speak French as an official language (although never if they can help it- Arabic is king), and with Ryan Air, tickets were only about $60 round trip from anywhere in France. I could spend hours talking about my experience there – my trip through the old town “medinas”, our 4 hour train ride (sans air conditioning), the nice people we met (one who even insisted we stay at his house with his grandma), and all the wondrous and miraculous ways we got cheated.

But, Clarence, I’ll just stick to the food… (read on…)

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Jacksion Heights, Queens: the anti “Chavellas”

So what exactly am I talking about? Well, go ahead and take a look a the Chavellas post for a little background info. Perhaps now you’ll understand what I mean when I say that this neighborhood in Queens, the second most populated borough in NYC kicks Chavellas’s – the tiny Mexican restaurant in Prospect Heights – ass. Of course it’s not a fair fight, but it’s true. Whereas Chavellas is close, convenient and serves up mediocre somewhat gringofied Mexican food, J-Heights, Queens is far away, totally a hassle to get to (from our pad in P-Heights, Bklyn), but it is the home to awesome and authentic Mexican food -most notably the tacos. Don’t believe me? You’re wrong. Need convincing? Read on.

the last taco of the day

the last taco of the day

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The fro-yo reviews

Alright people, first of all, I apologize to all of you three or four dedicated you-fooders for the long intervals between posts. Believe me it’s been wearing on me not to come out with something fresh and scintillating (ok at least moderately interesting) every few days or at the very least every week. This is what happens when you have a job that you must attend to every day. I’m a sucker. Yeah, I’m back on the murder show. But it’s a good thing I know the antidote to working on a reality homicide show: frozen yogurt. That’s right y’all. I finally finished the first installment of the the fro-yo reviews. I know I’m probably at least a year behind the times as far as this newest fro-yo fad is concerned, but better late than never. And I’m sure there’s still plenty of folks newly initiated into the Pinkberry ranks who would appreciate the painstaking effort that goes into sampling the various fro-yo establishments. For all of you, I present a bit of culture (get it? yogurt has live culture – sheeeiiit look it up if you don’t believe me.

Check it.

our first stop of the night

our first stop of the night

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