Tasting Phoenix: A Culinary Journey

Phoenix, a city known more for its blistering summers than its culinary scene, surprised me with an array of taste experiences that could rival any gastronomic capital. My adventure began on a Thursday, a day I dedicated to exploring the city’s diverse food landscape, starting with lunch at the famed Pizzeria Bianco. Here, amidst the rustic charm and the gentle hum of conversation, I savored a Margherita pizza. Its simplicity was its triumph: a tangy tomato sauce, fresh mozzarella, and basil leaves on a perfectly charred crust, paired with a bottle of Chianti that whispered of Tuscan hills and sun-drenched vineyards.

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Big Easy Eats: A Weekend Of Eating In New Orleans

Welcome to the lively streets of New Orleans, where the good times roll and the food is as spicy as the jazz in the air! Let’s dive into our whirlwind adventure through the Big Easy, where every bite tells a story and every sip is a toast to the city’s rich culture.

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Motorcycling In The South Of Spain- Part 5

4 days of riding in Spain was one of the best trips that I’ve ever taken. For my long-time readers, you know that’s saying a lot. It helps to have great scenery and a great route (even if you have to adjust it on the fly), but what was most important was riding with friends. We spent no more than 4 hours each day on the bikes, leaving plenty of time to hang out and socialize. And knowing that I was riding with friends gave me a sense of security and safety that I wouldn’t have had on my own or may not have had if I had been riding with a tour group. But there was a lot more to the ride than just that.

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Motorcycling In The South Of Spain- Part 4

The next few days of riding were fantastic. Gorgeous weather, great roads, and good riding. As I mentioned before, I haven’t done a lot of long rides, but both Glenn and John commented that this was some of the best scenic riding that they’d ever done. Along the route from Cadiz to Ronda on day 3, we stopped in a small town called Algar. It may have been one mile from one end to the other, but it was nothing but bumpy European streets and sharp turns, so we left as quickly as possible.

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Motorcycling In The South Of Spain- Part 3

Upon leaving the bike shop, Glenn did a great job of getting us onto the highway without too much trouble. The first thing I noticed about Spanish roads that I hadn’t considered before is that they love their roundabouts. That worried me. I hate roundabouts. I will deliberately reroute myself when driving in DC to avoid roundabouts. But DC has roundabouts with crosswalks and traffic lights, which completely minimizes the point of the roundabout in the first place. Spanish roundabouts are the ‘right’ kind. Cars and trucks, no crosswalks or pedestrians, no traffic lights or signs. Just a roundabout, the way they’re meant to be. That makes them much easier to navigate.

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Motorcycling In The South Of Spain- Part 2

When we got to Malaga, after a quick stop for lunch at the train station and knocking out some laundry at a local laundromat, we grabbed a taxi to IMT Bike. Over the previous few months, I’d been emailing them with all kinds of questions and thoughts, and they’d been great about helping plan our trip. Not great about helping to plan our route, since that would compete with their guided tours, but everything else about their service was fantastic. Yeah, I’m plugging their business, but I think they did a great job, so if you want to rent motorcycles in Spain, talk to them. Tell Elisa I sent you. I don’t get any credit for it, but I just like it when people drop my name for no good reason.

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Motorcycling In The South Of Spain- Part 1

“This is dumb. This is dumb. This is so freaking dumb. I’m going to die.” The words echoed through my head almost in time with the thrum of the engine. Part of me was excited about the ride. Part of me was terrified. And a small voice in my head was convinced that I was going to die. But that’s why I was here in the first place. Not to die, that is, but to do something outside of my comfort zone. With that thought, I rolled on the throttle and rode out into the rain.

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Cannstatter Volksfest

Cannstatter Volksfest is Stuttgart’s answer to Oktoberfest in Munich. Apparently German tradition says that you can’t call it an ‘Oktoberfest’ if you’re not in or near Munich. So, the city of Stuttgart started their own beer festival in the neighborhood of Bad Canstatt, and it’s a people’s fest, giving it the name Canstatter Volksfest. You’ll also hear people refer to the Canstatter Wasen or just Wasen, which refers to the fairgrounds where the event is held. Regardless of the proper vocabulary, if you were to ask where Oktoberfest is, locals would point you towards the festival. And what a festival it is!

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Pocket Pills

This is less of a travel tale than a random and hopefully useful piece of info that I thought I’d pass on. Around 2002, I became lactose intolerant (no, that’s not the useful piece of info). I have no idea what caused it, but it started more or less overnight, although it took me a few weeks to figure out what was wrong. In order for me to be able to enjoy dairy products without any ill effects, I got in the habit of carrying Lactaid with me, in case I found myself at a pizza joint or craving a milkshake. Well over a decade later, the condition seems to have disappeared, since I can eat whatever I want with no major issues. But the habit of carrying pills in my pocket continues, with some minor changes. When you’re traveling, having Immodium in your pocket could be the difference between enjoying a leisurely day of sightseeing and an uncomfortable day of seeing the inside of different bathroom stalls.

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Kiteboarding in Costa Rica

I could see the instructor waving her arms at me, but I couldn’t clearly see what she was doing. Monica was a few hundred yards away on the beach and I had salt water sheeting down the outside of my sunglasses. It was also in my ears and nose, but that was of lesser importance. I looked harder at her standing on the beach, trying to remember what each hand signal meant and trying to match the signals to what she appeared to be doing, when suddenly my view was completely blocked as my kite crashed to the surface of the water. I guess she was trying to tell me to pay attention to my kite because it was coming down. Oops.

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