Fourth of July: An Immigrant Celebration of Home
Complete this sentence: “Give me your tired, your poor,…” Continue reading Fourth of July: An Immigrant Celebration of Home
Complete this sentence: “Give me your tired, your poor,…” Continue reading Fourth of July: An Immigrant Celebration of Home
It’s damn near the kitchen sink of delicious things you can find in the PI. Continue reading Halo-halo, mix-mix and dreaming of summer
Can I ask some fun-loving Filipino or Filipino American parents, in the spirit of tomorrow’s April Fools’ Day, to please hide a lavender- or pink-dyed balut in their Easter egg hunts today? Continue reading Balut, a new kind of Easter egg
But this is Chicago in the middle of winter. There’s fucking nothing in season. Without modern highways, air freight, railroads, canning and other industrialized food processing techniques, refridgeration and chemical preservatives, no one could live here between September and May. I paid a little visit today to the Fulton Market, Chicago’s meatpacking district of old – from Upton Sinclair days – till now. Continue reading I have no idea what’s in season.