As a Korean-American foodie who resides in West Oakland, I’m lucky that there’s a slew of fine eateries not too far from our home all along Telegraph Avenue in Temescal.
Tag: july 4th
Take a cucumber, a lemon, a handful of backyard mint and throw it together with a bottle of vodka and you’ve got a kickin’ summer cocktail that will get any party started.
This cobbler takes the cake. It actually makes you forget about cake at all, because, who needs cake when you can have a crisp, chewy, buttery cobbler infused with vanilla and covered in bubbling tender juicy nectarines?
There’s nothing like the smell of steak hitting a hot sizzling grill. Pop open a beer and kick up your heels, this party is about to get started.
This is hands down my favorite summer salad. It’s particularly great when you’re in a hurry and if you have a surplus of plump zucchini.
Lamb is fantastic on the grill, so this Fourth of July, try some lamb burgers jazzed up with cilantro, scallions, and an unexpected hit of fresh ginger, dolloped with cool herbed yogurt. For vegetarians, there’s a smoky spread of grilled eggplant and tahini, scooped into grilled pita and topped with crunchy carrot-mint salad.
According to Mashable a hacker group calling themselves Scriptkiddies broke into the Fox News Politics twitter account @foxnewspolitics on July 4th and started sending fake tweets about President Barack Obama being assassinated at Ross’ Restaurant in Iowa. So, why did the hackers pick Ross’ Restaurant?
A visual stroll through the Saturday Ferry Plaza Farmers’ Market.
How did we celebrate the 4th of July up in Bernal? We harvested the tater bucket! To be really true red-white-and-blue homesteaders, we could have whisked up some homemade mayonnaise and made all-American potato salad. But the patio potatoes were too few, and too precious, for that.
Where I work, there are a small handful of men who occasionally begin their sentences with the phrase “In my village…”
“In my village, we have a festival.” “In my village, we would never treat an octopus in such a way.”
These men can get away with saying such things as easily as they can get away with calling women “baby” because they are Greek. The have the accent, they have an old world charm about them that clings like the smell of clove and stale cigarette smoke.
And I have always been a little bit jealous. If I were to ever pepper my sentences with the words “In my village…” People would most likely assume it was Greenwich Village. And I can just forget about using the word “baby.” Ever.