Klatovy, Czech Republic, a quaint Bohemian village, was just what we were looking for after the hustle and bustle of Prague. We found a rare Baroque Pharmacy (with leeches!), ate fried pork neck, saw a weirdly adult looking “baby Jesus” and were introduced to Sgraffiti, an amazing way of decorating buildings… CONTINUE READING >>
Klatovy, Czech Republic, a quaint Bohemian village, was just what we were looking for after the hustle and bustle of Prague. We found a rare Baroque Pharmacy (with leeches!), ate fried pork neck, saw a weirdly adult looking “baby Jesus” and were introduced to Sgraffiti, an amazing way of decorating buildings… CONTINUE READING >>
A big part of Veronica’s desire to see “The Motherland” was to find the origins of her childhood dinners.
Generations of her Bohemian ancestors had passed down dishes and now we could experience the originals, almost all of which include dumplings.
Dumplings are the undisputed heavyweight champions of Czech food and we found them answering the bell on almost every plate. Big city or small town, fancy restaurant or local dive, it made no difference, dumplings were our… CONTINUE READING >>
A big part of Veronica’s desire to see “The Motherland” was to find the origins of her childhood dinners.
Generations of her Bohemian ancestors had passed down dishes and now we could experience the originals, almost all of which include dumplings.
Dumplings are the undisputed heavyweight champions of Czech food and we found them answering the bell on almost every plate. Big city or small town, fancy restaurant or local dive, it made no difference, dumplings were our… CONTINUE READING >>
Drawn to this part of the Czech Republic – like a prepubescent girl to a Justin Bieber concert – by the legend of a church filled with decorative bones, we were served up an unexpected treat when we stayed in the nearby town of Kutná Hora.
In a bygone era, Kutná Hora rivaled Prague as the main city of Bohemia, the traditional name for the western half of Czech, and several kings… CONTINUE READING >>
Drawn to this part of the Czech Republic – like a prepubescent girl to a Justin Bieber concert – by the legend of a church filled with decorative bones, we were served up an unexpected treat when we stayed in the nearby town of Kutná Hora.
In a bygone era, Kutná Hora rivaled Prague as the main city of Bohemia, the traditional name for the western half of Czech, and several kings… CONTINUE READING >>
Over the first night’s dinner, conversation turned to local food and customs. Gianluca mentioned that horse and donkey were the “national foods” of Sardinia and that people who are not from the island can find them hard to eat. It wasn’t meant as a challenge, but to us, the gauntlet had been dropped. Since David had tried horse on a previous visit to Italy, it was obvious that we must eat the ass.
Sniffing around the next day, we found an intriguing little local haunt called Trattoria da Peppina in a tiny piazza near our hotel. Turns out… CONTINUE READING >>
Over the first night’s dinner, conversation turned to local food and customs. Gianluca mentioned that horse and donkey were the “national foods” of Sardinia and that people who are not from the island can find them hard to eat. It wasn’t meant as a challenge, but to us, the gauntlet had been dropped. Since David had tried horse on a previous visit to Italy, it was obvious that we must eat the ass.
Sniffing around the next day, we found an intriguing little local haunt called Trattoria da Peppina in a tiny piazza near our hotel. Turns out… CONTINUE READING >>
Crossing the muddy Mississippi into southeastern Missouri, we were getting mighty hungry. When we saw the sign proclaiming “The Only Home of Throwed Rolls,” we knew this was the place to strap on the feedbag.
Lambert’s Cafe has been serving up home cooked meals to the fine folks of Sikeston since 1942. Legend has it that on an particularly busy day back in 1976, ole Norman Lambert couldn’t get rolls to his customers in his usual fashion, walkin’ ‘em around the restaurant. Fed up, an ornery customer yelled out
Crossing the muddy Mississippi into southeastern Missouri, we were getting mighty hungry. When we saw the sign proclaiming “The Only Home of Throwed Rolls,” we knew this was the place to strap on the feedbag.
Lambert’s Cafe has been serving up home cooked meals to the fine folks of Sikeston since 1942. Legend has it that on an particularly busy day back in 1976, ole Norman Lambert couldn’t get rolls to his customers in his usual fashion, walkin’ ‘em around the restaurant. Fed up, an ornery customer yelled out
enlarge video
Legend has it that on an particularly busy day back in 1976, ole Norman Lambert couldn’t get rolls to his customers in his usual fashion, walkin’ ’em around the restaurant. Fed up, an ornery customer yelled out “Just throw the damn… CONTINUE READING>>
enlarge video
Legend has it that on an particularly busy day back in 1976, ole Norman Lambert couldn’t get rolls to his customers in his usual fashion, walkin’ ’em around the restaurant. Fed up, an ornery customer yelled out “Just throw the damn… CONTINUE READING>>
As the leaves begin to turn red and gold deep in the Ozarks, excitement starts to build. Competitors check and double check recipes. Others put the final tweaks on their racing machines. Before long, the aroma of beans and outhouses fill the mountain air — it’s time for the Annual Arkansas Bean Fest and Great Championship Outhouse Races. This fest had GypsyNester written all over it. How could we possibly resist?
As the leaves begin to turn red and gold deep in the Ozarks, excitement starts to build. Competitors check and double check recipes. Others put the final tweaks on their racing machines. Before long, the aroma of beans and outhouses fill the mountain air — it’s time for the Annual Arkansas Bean Fest and Great Championship Outhouse Races. This fest had GypsyNester written all over it. How could we possibly resist?
