Perhaps you’re a dim sum disciple of the venerable Yank Sing located in downtown San Francisco, but there’s plenty of other places in the Bay Area to snack on this delightful Chinese fare.
Meghan Laslocky is a writer, editor, and producer who lives in San Francisco. She aspires to one day be a person who: Shops every week at the farmers' market and always has fresh romanescu on hand; eats only politically correct meat from cows that voted for Obama; never ever has to buy canned chicken stock because she always has oodles of it in a fabulously well-organized freezer.
In the meantime, she shops at Trader Joe's in the off hours, heartily enjoys corn-fed beef that is likely campaigning for McCain, tries to feel better about herself by buying canned chicken stock that is labeled as organic or free range, and produces web sites for KQED, including videos like this about the hot 'n' heavy last dark hours of the kind of squid that become fried calamari. As she writes this bio, she is eating Dilettante chocolate covered bing cherries and drinking Cline Pinot Gris. Be advised: they do not "go."
Her work has been published by Salon.com and the San Francisco Chronicle. She is a graduate of the UC Berkeley Graduate School of Journalism, where she did not study with Michael Pollan, much as she likes him.
Meghan Laslocky's Latest Posts
On November 18 and 19, KQED will broadcast the premiere of “The Dust Bowl,” a new documentary by Ken Burns that explores the most severe, man-made ecological catastrophe in American history.
Two Halloweens ago, I bashed baby costumes, and heaped quite specific vitriol on the infamous Martha Stewart lobster baby costume.
Little did I know that a year later, I’d be knocked up (the planned kind of knocked up), and that two years later (meaning now), I’d lie awake at night lactating and plotting my baby’s first truly public embarrassment: his 2009 Halloween costume.
Tough times call for tough decisions. The California unemployment rate now stands at over 12 percent, and I’ve been underemployed since April. My cup of beans and rice runneth under, so I’m taking a cue from all those folks who have told me Henry is so cute they could just eat him. In short, I have a modest proposal.
Note: Don’t read this if you find my other posts disgusting or offensive. Move along now. I mean it.
Some women get post-partum depression; in my case, I had a whopper case of pre-partum depression, which, needless to say, did not bode well the post part of the partum.
“King Corn“ is a new film that premiered in the Bay Area this past weekend. In it, Ian Cheney and Curt Ellis –best friends from college — plant an acre of corn in Iowa and attempt to track its path into the food chain. I caught up with director Aaron Woolf, whom I knew of […]
Since I always start my posts with a warning, here goes: Don’t read this if you have an aversion to Sarah Silverman or food that resembles body parts or if you worship the ground that Martha Stewart stencils. I mean it. Move along now. Okay, for those of you who can hack it, my assignment […]
It’s that time of the month. The freezer is overflowing, and I’ve had it. Given that there are two post-roast chicken carcasses under the frozen mango and buffalo burgers, and to the left of the kaffir lime leaves, I’ve got what I need to deploy my famous three-step method for making space in the freezer:1. […]
Remember in my last post, I told you that I’ll always preamble with warning? This time, the warning is: Do not read this if you have never wondered what Motion Lotion — yeah, I mean that kind of Motion and that kind of Lotion — tastes like. But before we get to the lube groove, […]
My Bay Area Bites posts, dear reader, will often be preambled by a warning. In this case, stop reading now if you have never wondered what edible underwear taste like and you don’t want to know. Ditto for revulsion to the very idea of honey, coconut, peppermint, strawberry and chocolate ever gracing your nether regions […]
I’m a white girl writing about the scariest foods I could find at Ranch 99, the Asian supermarket in Richmond. Prepare yourself: what follows is not politically correct. But before we get into the nitty gritty, let me make myself clear: I think of myself as an equal opportunity eater, someone whose palate is endlessly […]