Artisanal rocks, the cheese there is great. Also, nothing wrong with your own company, when I first arrived in NYC 8 years ago, I loved the freedom of being able to do what I wanted, go where I wanted at the drop of a hat, still enjoy it now.
When asked if you are a critic, you must quickly yet akwardly put the notes away, and loudly protest "who me, a critic, oh, that's silly..." Then whip the book out later when they are looking and and write furtively and furiously. I guar-on-tee you will get the white glove treatment.
Trust me on this.
Chateau Y'quem* and bleu cheese.
Roquefort is traditional, but I'm a Stilton fan. I've also had very good luck when I put myself in the hands of Sasha, the milky-skinned, virtually teen-aged assistant fromagere there. He might not be there anymore (I haven't been in a couple of years), but we have had exquisite experiences when he put together tasting plates for us. You used to be able to smoke in the bar -- it was heaven.
They also make an excellent (if uneven) mac and cheese and the gougeres are addictive.
*Tab to covered by suitably grateful and flush male admirer.
I would trust you on anything now that I know about your Blahniks.
Maccers. I found the future you. Brit housewife with twins, stuck in Georgia.
hey where have you been? What happened to your site?
Deleted.
tp had a site?
I can't decide whether I have the time for epic posts like some bloggers. (*Cough, "SAC", cough*)
And is it worth the possible journalistic recognition down the road? These questions demand answers.
TP...who cares about journalistic recognition?
Write write write, I say.
tp, you jest.
Write. Please.
And ignore sac and his epic posts. He's just overcompensating for his resident Kinski.
Commenting by HaloScan
