So there you are, wandering the back alleys of Chinatown, minding your own business and looking for illegal fireworks. Never could you guess that in the next shop, you'd find this adorable creature: He seems so innocent, so loving, despite…

You gotta love The New Yorker. Wry, urbane, and recently under attack for some controversial cover art. You know what? It's not going to make me stop reading. Not when the latest edition features the Fourteen Passive-Aggressive Appetizers that would…

I don't know about your dad, but mine has some typical father-like qualities. Things like a penchant for shop tools and barbecues and red meat. Although Dad and I don't agree on how we like our bacon cooked, we both…

Lately I've been trying to determine my specific relationship to food. I love to cook and experiment in the kitchen, but I'm no gourmet. I love to eat, but I don't think I qualify as a "foodie." I think what…