I’ve said it once and I’ll say it a million more times: Drink what you like, no matter what the “rule” is. That being said, there are suggestions (I won’t call them rules) that are in place because, well, some things just go together better than others. And some things don’t go together at all. 
The eating competition is one of those American traditions you can’t quite explain without coming across as an apologist for obscene overconsumption. And while the Major League Eating circuit—yes, an actual organization that considers eating competitions sporting events, which has gone so far as to get airtime on one of the many ESPNs—is an easy 
“You’re a writer, huh? What kind of stuff do you write?” “Oh, a little of this,” I said, staring at my shoes, knowing exactly where this conversation was headed, “A little of that.” “Like what? What’s one of the things you get paid to write about?” “Wine.” My single-word answer was followed by an unconscious 
Table d’Hôte is your standard neighborhood spot—if your neighborhood spoke French One of the great joys of city life is the neighborhood restaurant. They’re friendly, comfortable, conveniently located—usually on a quiet side street—and the food is good but not complicated, skillful but not demanding. They’re the kind of place you can return to several times
Don’t follow the mob when it comes to this aging process I want to get it out on the table: I am just as confused as any of you are by many of the popular trends in wine today. And it isn’t just the often hilarious terminology (I could write an entire post on that),
Extreme flavors and price mark it as a cut above “No, you are not spending $65 on that teeny, tiny bottle of wine,” said my wife, arms crossed, hands on hips. “You don’t understand,” I said, cradling the bottle like it was a baby, “it’s ice wine!” I left without my ice wine that day, 
I don’t know if you noticed, but it got real hot real fast last week, catapulting the city from genuine springtime directly into the gaping maw of summertime. It’s a well-worn trope that when the going gets hot, the hot eat spicy foods. It’s well-worn, sure, but if you’re like 98 percent of the Western 
A survival guide to summer food fests This past weekend, The Great GoogaMooga, the chefs-as-rock-stars food festival that had many bemoaning the end of civilization and the rise of the foodie monster, took place in Prospect Park with some 75 vendors and 40,000 attendees. The first day of the two-day event ended with chefs, 
