April 20, 2019

Watertown, MA. April, 2013

This was not how I had intended to spend my Friday. I woke up to three phone messages left overnight, advising me to stay indoors because of a Boston Marathon bombing suspect with explosives and ammunition in my neighborhood. This was before my coffee. Only later in the day did the full import of the situation hit home. A shootout three blocks from my house. A full-out manhunt for the suspect still at large. Emails from friends near and far urging me to stay safe. A sheltering-in-place command forcing us to remain inside our homes. Here’s a compromised photo of the door-to-door search carried out by armed soldiers on my sleepy street. Helicopters hovering overhead, sirens, police with sniffing dogs, teams inspecting all the garbage containers on the street for pickup day. Crazy. 

April 19, 2019

Istanbul. June, 2007

My friends Paul and Dan are planning a trip that will include a swing through Turkey. And while our plates of sweets at the famed Güllüoğlu may not have been my first thought for their “list,” it’s right up there. The Turks have a way with filo dough. They roll it, fill it, shred it, shred it and roll it, infuse it with chocolate. Usually pistachios are involved. And, of course, a sweet soaking syrup. And why not? Paul, Dan, find out if they do take-out and leave room in your luggage, OK?

April 18, 2019

Venice. October, 2012

The Basilica di San Marco. The Accademia. Peggy Guggenheim’s collection. La Fenice. The Rialto Bridge. The masterpieces of local boys Titian, Tintoretto and Bellini. All beautiful and all attention-worthy. But sometimes in your travels, what you really want to see is this.

April 17, 2019

A Esquina da Fé, Lisbon. October, 2009

We were unfamiliar with the size of the portions in Portugal. We soon learned. At one of our favorite Lisbon restaurants, this platter of Cozido à Portuguesa, filled with meat, sausages, rice AND potatoes, and some vegetables (carrots, turnips, cabbage) served on the side. This is a single serving. For one person. It seems that every country has its own version of the one-pot boiled dinner. The French Pot au Feu, Spain’s Cocido Madrileño, even our New England boiled dinner. But nowhere have I found gargantuan portions like this except in Portugal. Sharing allowed.

April 16, 2019

Tucson. November, 2006

I love so many things about my visits to friends Simon and David in Tucson. The conversations, of course, both silly and serious. And the many things that are so different from those at home in New England. The light. The colors. The plants. Like this beautiful one here at the Desert Museum. Can you make out the little spider web toward the center of the plant? Spiders, big and small, both poisonous and benign, are among the few things, all of them alive, that I’m not so crazy about.

April 15, 2019

Tucson. November, 2006

I love Tucson. And I haven’t been there this year yet. So I look at my photos and think about returning. And think about returning here to the Little Café Poca Cosa. Their food is casual, wonderful and plentiful. Their staff is warm and welcoming. And their attitude? Well, just look at these notices in the window. A great place. (And if all goes as planned, I’ll be having breakfast or lunch or both at LCPC before the year is out. Sooner is better.)

April 14, 2019

Tucson. November, 2006

Look at these innocent critters. Ruby on the left, Pablo on the right. Butter (or the dog equivalent) wouldn’t melt in their mouths. Or not at least until my friend David says the magic word, “Snackies!” And then all hell breaks loose. Jumping, whining, chaos. I think they thought my camera was some kind of food when I took this early-morning photo. Hence their attention.