It’s been a rough few weeks over here — between the stresses of packing up the lair for a move, wisdom teeth extractions and trying to squeeze in writing somewhere in there, I tell you, it’s all been enough to send a girl running out for fried chicken.
Which, it turned out, was not a bad idea.
Some chefs with rather tasty chops had just opened a new casual Southern restaurant near me in Brooklyn in July, after all. The specialty? Fried chicken …
Sunny days in Scotland — about as hard to come by as you might imagine. (From my experience, anyway.)
So when a late July morning gives you the gift of sunshine and clear skies, the choice is clear — it’s time to get in the car and just go.
Where to? North of Edinburgh, to a little stretch of tranquil coast along the scenic Firth of Forth …
As you might imagine, I have a gigantic soft spot for fries, gravy, meat and cheese.
Separately, each of these rocks my world. Faced with them together? I get instantly weak-kneed.
Recently, I’ve had the extremely good fortune of living near Mile End Delicatessen, a little New York City mini chain that specializes in poutine, that scrumptious Canadian dish that combines fries with cheese curds and meat gravy.
And so, on a recent Sunday, I just happened to wander over …
Among the problems to have, this was a good one: What to do with that tub of leftover ssamjang in the fridge?
After whipping up a batch of the sweet, spicy and garlicky Korean dipping sauce for a recent night of kalbi, the leftovers remained front and center in my fridge, nudging me to do something — anything.
Sure, marinating a few pounds of short ribs for another round of kalbi was tempting — perhaps when I have more time.
For now, however, I had other easier plans …
First night in Key West and the locals are determined to school this food writer. The most important advice?
“The best places to get Cuban coffee are attached to laundromats.”
Sure, there’s Sandy’s — a place so well-known it’s got sleek rides pulling up all day to pick up trays of coffees to go along with giant bags of sandwiches and a fleet of delivery cars whizzing in and out as you wait 20 minutes for your order. But the one that people keep saying is the must is a little less celebrated.
Beloved as this place is, its name escapes them. “Just go to the corner of Union and White,” I am told.
And so on a sunny Saturday morning, taking a little break from my writing desk, I do …