An American Masters Paris

An American Masters Paris

The French must tire of their tropes (see berets, baguettes). A trip to Paris reveals their cuisine has evolved beyond the bistro, with molecular gastronomy and multiculturalism shaking the house that Escoffier built. Perhaps it's nostalgia for summers and studies in Paris, but I still cling to the classics of French cuisine. I've got a bad case of Francophilia (she writes, sporting a marinière stripe romper).

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Mess With This Tex-Mex

Mess With This Tex-Mex

Tex-Mex and I go way back.

For my first college gig, I hostessed at a rowdy, Tex-Mex restaurant: Caliente Cab Company. Famous for their frozen margaritas--evidenced by the monster cocktail beckoning from the facade--this was where locals went to get their tequila on, downing syrupy sweet margaritas or slamming shots wielded by bandolier-strapped waitresses. The edible offerings were cheesy, cheap, and filling--food was merely fuel for more boozing.

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