The underbelly of a threshold at the royal palace in Jaipur. January 2014.
A note + gift that was supposed to go to Uma Thurman is now mine. Thanks @parisreview for an amazing year!
Just another Wednesday at #bookcourt
Am I the only one who found the cover of this NYTimes mag totally bizarre? Or not so much bizarre as…huh?
Reflection on a construction site on N 7th St #brooklyn
Got a random text… From 1970 #scifi
I love supermarkets in other countries, especially the produce aisle, because it’s so familiar yet not, hyperlocal culture peeping through a globalized model. Eggplants here are called brinjal, and are about a third of the size of your average American eggplant. (Eggplants are aubergines in the UK. Clearly eggplant is the Rumpelstiltskin of vegetables.)
I had intended to just by a Kit Kat and leave, but was mesmerized by these colors. I locked eyes with a gourd and that was it (you had me at gourd). With the acres of time I have here, I decided to make some sort of half-baked photo essay about all the differences that caught my eye, from the availability of “snake gourds” to Fuji apples that are Limited Too pink.
Vegetables with cute double names:
All of the gourds, all of the gourds:
How odd vegetables sound with the adjective after the noun:
(Fun fact: the core of a Jack Furit can be enjoyed as a cocktail nut)
Dragon Fruit! I had only ever seen it in Vitamin Water form.
(I think those are avocados)
These just looked cool:
Roma and I rendezvoued at a restaurant called Cafe Tryst en route to Pondicherry, and I insisted on ordering mozarella sticks because that’s what people do in India didn’t you know? As predicted, they were rubbery little things and we left a few on the plate before going for a walk. When we came back, this happened:
I know there’s no logic to blogging about Korea while I am in India, but I’m not really known for speediness. It’s taken me about two months to upload these photos onto the computer.
I walked into this high rise with chrome glass windows and a futuristic etching of a large red bird at its entrance, thinking this would be a good place to use the bathroom (not sure how that logic gelled). Look what I stumbled upon!
That’s when the baker told me I couldn’t take photos, but I wasn’t going to let my only two photos from this place be of willies (spliced, shriveled, edible…), so I snuck in just one more:
A croque monsieur volcano, essentially. The baker was about to kill me so I bought this last one and then photographed:
An “Olive Boomerang,” which is exactly as it sounds. Bakeries in Korea are such that you pick a tray and a tong, pick up what you want and then pay for all of it together in the end. I can’t be trusted with that kind of self-control. Or this kind:
The Chivas right above the frozen food section! As an afterthought to those frozen rice cakes, might as well throw some of this in the cart.