Carolyn Paul Paul من عند نيويورك من عند نيويورك

هناك قاتل هناك ... وهذا الاسم هو متلازمة الصدمة السامة.

shahkare!

This may be my favorite book ever. The Sterns know food so well that I think they might be made out of cheeseburgers and scrambled eggs. There isn't anything I can think of right now that I don't like better than eating in a run-down diner, and this guide celebrates and achingly describes the best in the U.S. I am not lying when I tell you that I look at the book just about every day. Unfortunately, I have been unable to patronize the vast majority of the included eateries, but the Sterns, perhaps aware of the fact that most people don't get out much, recreate each bite of sauce-drenched barbecue and swig of Southern sweet tea with unmatched foodie passion. There are passages in this book that - seriously - can bring me to tears, in particular a paragraph or two describing a now defunct boarding house in Florida, where ravenous strangers once gathered around an enormous lazy Susan, helping themselves to community bowls of insanely delicious fried chicken and talking amongst themselves, even the least personable of the group roused to jovial conversation thanks to the amazing food and neighborly goodwill exemplified by the woman who ran the place. Another review, yet again for a fried chicken establishment, compares the taste of their chicken to a first kiss. "Bon Ton fried chicken, like a first kiss, is a never to be forgotten experience". Good God. Fried chicken as a good as a first kiss...my mind goes white with wonderment. I get choked up just typing that. (I really like fried chicken). It's the best food writing I've ever read, and it makes me want to run outside and eat everything in the world.