Midway through the fifth season, I found a sick bird fluttering on the ground while I was walking to and from the center of town. It looked alert and fine and none of its wings appeared to be broken, but it couldn’t keep its head up. I sidestepped around it and then I came back. I carried it in my hands for an hour and dripped water into its beak from a water fountain until I found a styrofoam cup and kleenex from a sports memorabilia store and brought it home with me.
Here is huge tip for future reference: The way to win me over is to give me a mind blowingly good, but not brain freezing, frozen margarita. I prefer it to be a frozen strawberry margarita, but I also understand limitations. I will also do cucumber, passion fruit, pomegranate, and one day I hope to encounter a raspberry frozen margarita. I am sure that my literary idols do not respect me for this and are currently glaring down at me as they sip the heavy, brown liquors that saturated their livers and eventually killed them. Continue reading “Órale Mexican Kitchen, New York, NY”
I am a member of the Collective Bias® Social Fabric® Community. This shop has been compensated as part of a social shopper amplification for Collective Bias and its advertiser. All of the proceeds from this will go to the Buying Flowers for my Girlfriend Fund, a for-profit organization on behalf of my girlfriend and also, me. Continue reading “#shop Beer-braised Jalapeno Sausage Sliders with Pimento Cheese”
Moving down here, or to any new city, is akin to starting a popular television series midway through the fifth season. People have a frame of reference, a casual one, that pops up in their interactions and mannerisms and are typically surprised when you don’t catch on. Or when they find out that you don’t have a TV. That’s where things get weird. Continue reading “Uncle Al’s Stage Planks”
I have resigned myself to the somewhat weird, mythological loop of living in an extended-stay hotel. Legends shall know me as Jessica, of the Embassy Suites, or Jessica, the Latter-Day Eloise, or Jessica, she who now refuses to wear clothing on the weekends. Living in a hotel is part indulgent and part watching a beloved relative or public blogging figure lose all of their remaining self-sufficiency. I may have forgotten how to make a bed. And how to cook eggs. I may have lost all meaning of non-fresh towels, warm from the dryer, fresh sheets changed on a daily basis, and I may occasionally ogle nicer hotel rooms on the internet on the hotel’s internet connection (oh baby, I’m sorry) but I have not lost the ability to both endure and enjoy terrible food. Continue reading “Taco Bell Sour Cream Dip Spicy Habanero”
Food-wise, it’s been a weird week of adventures, ranging from excellent tacos from a tacky-looking chain to complimentary hotel breakfast regimens of sausages and cantaloupe. I received pheasant from a coworker, freshly shot in South Dakota, and ate impeccable Szechuan and Thai takeout. Arkansas, you crazy. I think I love you. When I’m not delighting my creditors with my flagrant burger purchases, I’m trying to eat at home- small, canape-style food like I had in Paris, and with Fresh Market so close, it’s difficult to resist the siren’s song of decent coffee and gelato. Continue reading “Chia Pod Vanilla Bean”
To cap off my Arkansas montage, I bring you highlights from my first week of work and first weekend, whereupon I spent an entire 72 hours and counting doing nothing but eat, swim, and lay about in the altogether perusing documents. Adventures were had! A Foodette was social! Horses were seen! At this point, though, having seen three smooshed to the side of the road, my new culinary goal is to find and hunt an armadillo, and then cook it to my liking, preferably serving it in its shell. If they can’t evade cars, surely me and a Daisy Air Rifle ought to do the job. Continue reading “Road Trip III: Arkansas in all its glory”
I love my job. I never thought I’d say that or that I’d reach a point where I’d have a job, much less a job that I enjoy and look forward to. It’s a great internship- granted, I’ve only had a day so far but it was a marvelous, welcoming day full of power suits, assignments, witty coworkers, and a rockin’ jam to Steely Dan in the car. Hell yes. You’re looking at the official Walmart/Sam’s Club risk management, antitrust, marketing, and merchandising legal intern, complete with a window cubicle. And they love Foodette!So, what have I been up to? Aside from fretting over shirt and shoe pairings and getting my first projects for the summer, I’ve been swimming and relaxing and adventuring over the last few days. Continue reading “Road Trip II: Paris to Bentonville”
I participated in an influencer activation on behalf of Millenial Central for Reebok. I received product samples to facilitate my review as well as a promotional item to thank me for my participation. Don’t be hatin’, this will help me buy a new briefcase.
Woof. Cocktail time. I originally made this for Cinco de Mayo, but am posting it now because it’s always a good time to drink a cocktail, right? I had access to a juicer a few weeks ago, while dogsitting, and decided to use a few easy ingredients- tequila, grapefruits, limes, agave syrup, and diet club soda to make a refreshing and tasty cocktail without any of the guilt of a massive margarita. Continue reading “#MC The Thigh-High Cocktail, inspired by Reebok Skyscape”
Austen writes the exceptional and equally snarky book blog, Page Terror and is my NYC correspondent while I am in Arkansas.
Foodette and I go back some years and, for avid readers, I believe that I have been referred to as ‘Austen’ in past reviews. Austen is a reference to Jane Austen, the brilliant social satirist who earned herself a place next to men such as Jonathan Swift and Alexander Pope, but instead gets cast into the same lot as Nora Ephron. My point is that although Foodette has graciously titled me Austen, Foodette is the writer whose unique voice sends you spiraling forward with her highly unusual and provocative prospectives. She is a great catalyst for thought and I frequently find myself questioning my palate in response to her. Continue reading “Guest Review: Wild, Williamsburg, NY”