Who knew Houston, of all places, had a bike share system? I won’t have a chance to try it out on this trip, but I hope it’s even better and bigger the next time I visit.
I’ve eaten crawfish only a handful of times in my life, usually as an ingredient in a dish like gumbo, never by itself. I’ve always enjoyed it, but in NYC you have to go out of your way to find crawfish. As a result, I don’t eat it much.
So you can imagine my delight when my sister told me that my family here in Houston have been cooking up large batches of it every Friday this crawfish season.
It helps that the price of live crawfish has been as low as $.99 per pound at H.E.B. , because last night they bought thirty-nine pounds of it.
That’s my uncle skillfully cooking the crawfish. The meal was accompanied by equally yummy garlic corn-on-the-cob and Seafood Alfredo. He says he learned how to make all of this from watching Top Chef.
The best part about eating food that requires disassembly is that it forces you to eat slow and chillax with your dining partners. Here, my sister and stepmom fill me on family
gossip news since my last visit to Houston.
Here’s what the pile looked like after we finished. I stayed at the table to continue shelling the crawfish, which my uncle will cook into other dishes like Crawfish Fried Rice.
My uncle ate last after cooking the entire batch of crawfish. Dessert was Häagen-Daz ice cream bars.
Needless to say, this was my favorite meal of the trip so far.
My relatives here all live outside the core, so this road is a part of virtually every car trip we take when I visit. I love looking out into the distance of this super-wide thoroughfare. It may not represent the best urban planning, but it’s a mesmerizing sight for a New Yorker.
It’s been a few years since I last visited, but I found myself easily adapting again to the peculiar customs of Houston.
Were it not for the shirt, I believe I could have passed for a native, as you can see in these photographs.
I’m no good with puzzles, but I’m forced to do a moderately challenging one the night before every trip that I bring my Bike Friday on.
It’s been a while since I’ve travelled with the bike so I was a bit rusty at the packing tonight. It took about forty-five minutes to get it right. (I think my personal best is twenty on a lanai in Honolulu.)
The photo inside the suitcase is nominally for TSA so that they can get the bike back in. But truth be told, I use it too. It gives me confidence that I’ve solved the puzzle before.
It’s been raining all day in NYC. But to paraphrase one of my neighbors, it’s a mediocre rain — not a dramatic downpour that inspires awe and not a pleasant drizzle that lifts your spirits. It’s just average wet.
From “U.S. Finds Porn Not Secrets on Suspected China Spy’s PC” in Bloomberg Businessweek, May 1, 2013:
Bo Jiang, who was indicted March 20 for allegedly making false statements to the U.S., was charged yesterday in a separate criminal information in federal court in Newport News, Virginia. Jiang unlawfully downloaded copyrighted movies and sexually explicit films onto his NASA laptop, according to the court filing. A plea hearing is set for tomorrow.
Along with the misdemeanor, the government said it had resolved the false statements case, Assistant U.S. Attorney Gordon Kromberg said in a filing today.
I read this article two weeks ago and have struggled all this time to articulate my thoughts about it. The collision of politics, race, paranoia, stupidity, and plain old horniness practically begs for some kind of analysis that’s both insightful and funny.
Unfortunately, that essay is going to have to come from somebody else. After two weeks, all I can say is
1) Assuming this is the whole story, this is epically embarrassing for everyone involved.
2) Even if this isn’t the whole story, what we do know would make for a pretty cool movie — documentary or narrative.
Once again, real life has left me speechless. I hope my betters can come up with something coherent and interesting to say about the situation because I’d love to read it.
If there’s one place that always makes me a little worried about the future of Chinatown, it’s Kenmare Street between Mott and Elizabeth.
Here at the very northern edge of what you’d consider Chinatown, you can see the neighborhood’s past — and its potential future. On a low-key street mostly known for traffic coming from the Williamsburg Bridge, new luxury apartments bump-up against working-class walk-ups.
What’s next? I don’t know if anyone really knows. Gentrification may be an unstoppable force, but that doesn’t mean its impacts on neighborhoods are identical. I’m watching eagerly to see how Chinatown handles it.
I’m no expert on turtles, but these not-for-sale guys and gals at the Alpine Nursery in Belleville, NJ look pretty chillaxed.
And even if they weren’t, I know I certainly was after stumbling upon them there.
Usually, the only turtles I see are those in the fish markets of Chinatown — and those guys sadly are not chillaxing.
If I look at them too long I have to fight the urge to buy them all. Not too chillaxing for me either.
Growing up, I always wanted a really nice globe but the only one we could afford was a cheap metal version that had a big raised seam at the equator. The seam was so big it looked like the Earth had a Saturn-like ring.
I was a little embarrassed that our globe was not as nice as the ones some of my friends owned, and certainly not as nice as the ones in school.
I wish I’d seen the Daily News Globe when I was a kid.
I would have realized that the best globe in the world is free for everyone to enjoy — and it can’t be bought by anyone.
For reasons unknown, I’ve found myself using chillax and its derivations more times in the past month than I can count.
And as it happens, it’s also been a pretty good month.
Does correlation equal causation? I think it does in this case. Try saying chillax out loud right now and see if you don’t smile or feel better right after.
Go ahead, I’ll wait.
Am I right? It’s like the word is its own chillaxative. Just the act of saying it seems to work the muscles in your jaw in a massage-like fashion that radiates chillaxation throughout your body and mind.
And this is just in English. It might even be better in other languages but unfortunately I don’t know any other tongues well enough to find out.
Drop the word in conversation today and do your part to make the world a more chillaxed place. The timeless wisdom of this old-school term needs to be shared.
It’s hard to describe how much better Columbus Circle is today compared to just about any time in living memory. It’s actually a place you’d want to visit and even linger instead of just pass through as quickly as possible.
I’m looking for students with superior storytelling skills to help me make videos this summer about New York’s amazing transportation network.
As a video intern with the MTA Press Office, you’ll help tell the story of the transit system and the hardworking men and women who keep it running. You’ll shoot onboard MTA trains and buses, inside stations and tunnels, and maybe even climb a bridge or two.
You’ll also sharpen your skills at all aspects of video production — from story development to distribution — and learn a lot about turning around quality packages cost-efficiently and on tight deadlines.
Internships will start in early June and can continue beyond the summer. For more info and to apply, go here. Please don’t apply to me directly.
(Want to help me at my night job? Check back here later this summer.)
Because I have a thing for spicy hotpot, restaurants with big lighted signs, and Sunset Park Chinatown, Mister Hotpot on Eighth Avenue shot to the top of my list when searching for Chinese food on Sunday night.
It was well worth the trip. The food was very tasty, service was good, and they were open late.
I wanted to compliment Hotpot Xiānshēng personally, but I think he’d already left for the day.
Growing up in Nutley, this retro Stewart’s in nearby Kearny was a familiar sight but one that I can’t recall ever stepping foot in.
That changed today when my family and I stopped in for lunch. Naturally, we each had a root beer to go with our various fried-meat-between-bread entrees. We were all very pleasantly surprised at how tasty the food was.
It was a beautiful day, so we opted out of car-dining and instead sat at one of the outdoor tables. What you can’t tell from the photo is that someone in our party actually brought tea eggs to compliment the meal. I can only wonder what the waitress thought when she saw that.