Wait. Isn’t that…?
Boiled p-nuts. Sometimes “boiled” is spelled wrong, too. There are stands that dot the back roads of the rural Florida Panhandle, fronted by hand-lettered signs that tout the glories of the green peanut. The outskirts of Tallahassee are P-nut Central, the stands’ proprietors hunkered over burners at the back of rattletrap trucks in the hot sun. So you stop.
Wait. Isn’t that…?
My baseball fanatic friends and I always close the bar at the Rivertowne Brewing Hall of Fame Club after Pirates games at PNC Park in Pittsburgh. We linger for as long as they let us, enjoying the great view of the field and reduced postgame drinks prices. We’re usually the last ones out the door before they turn off the lights. It’s just one of many reasons why we love coming to PNC Park and hate leaving.
Pittsburgh may have been built around the steel and coal industries, but the once-sooty city now features a beautiful downtown river walk, multi-cultural neighborhoods and restaurants, and even free subway rides.
Here’s a thing that food travel writers do: They breeze into a town they know only superficially, spend a couple of days stuffing themselves senseless, and then declare said town’s food scene has “hit its stride” or “turned a corner” or maybe even (gasp) “advanced to the big leagues.”
This gem of a city tucked in the Blue Ridge foothills of western North Carolina attracts artists, musicians, foodies, outdoor enthusiasts and a fair share of modern-day hippies, all lured by the beautiful setting and open-minded vibe. Its gorgeous historic buildings downtown, free music venues, Appalachian art center and lofty nearby peaks are all perfect for travelers looking to please their senses without spending a dime.
A small boat, hand-crafted wood glistening under the sun, glided along the lapping waves of Apalachicola Bay. Leaning over the side and armed with 12-feet tongs, a husband and wife team slowly culled oyster beds, popping the bivalves into 60-pound sacks that go for approximately $25 each.
How integral is food to Mexico City’s culture? My taxi driver from the airport offered me a plate of her chicken tinga tacos. From a covered platter she kept inside her cab. She didn’t try to sell them to me. She wanted to give them to me, to welcome me with a taste of her native Mexico City. And maybe to show off a little for the food writer.
Residents know the secrets of Florida summer travel: empty beaches, warm water, less traffic and, perhaps best of all, bargain prices on luxury spots.
I am a Southerner, through and through. If it’s fried, I eat it. If it’s a one-syllable word, I stretch it to two. Or three or four. If it says Old South, I’m on it like a duck on a June bug.
St. Augustine, the nation’s oldest city, has plenty of history. But it has enough other charms, from an amphitheater to a uniquely Florida zoo, to fill a list from A to Z. Consider:
If you grow up on Long Island, there are certain inevitabilities. Manhattan will always be the city; traffic will always crawl. And if it’s summer, you’ll always, always end up at the beach.
Deer graze in a meadow alongside a red dirt path in the shadow of Civil War-era artillery. The hum of cars ebbs as you walk a dirt path farther and farther away from busy Route 120, a major byway in the northern Atlanta suburbs of Kennesaw and Marietta.
“Ten, eleven, twelve, they keep coming!” We hop off our bikes as bicycling-birding tour guide Elaine Jacobson narrates a surprise mass landing of roseate spoonbills on a sandbar just yards from our overlook. “I’ve never seen so many here at once!”
On the 100th anniversary of the outbreak of hostilities in Europe, remembering The Great War.
I’m sitting at the bar at FIG restaurant in Charleston, talking with the strangers on either side of me about what we’re doing tonight at the Spoleto Festival — I’m going to see A Midsummer Night’s Dream performed with puppets, the couple on my left is seeing a program of bawdy songs, the folks on my right are going to an unspecified concert — when my soup arrives.
As we sail away from the Marco Island marina on a sticky morning in search of dolphins, James Livaccari, biologist on board the Dolphin Explorer, points out a bald eagle chasing an osprey, a great white egret catching fish on the point of the Isle of Capri. We see terns, a flock of brown pelicans and giant frigatebirds.
I grew up outside Baltimore. When I was 7, my parents and I boarded the USS Torsk, a World War II attack submarine that floats in the Inner Harbor. I was entranced by the tight sleeping quarters and the torpedo tubes. The tour director described the Torsk’s missions off the coast of Japan, but his voice faded as I peered into the periscope. Through the lens the hulking atrium of glass that houses the penthouse of the National Aquarium was visible in the distance. It was a dazzling place to grow up.
Here in South Florida, we are used to lush tropical blooms and towering royal palms. But in Central Florida you’ll see colorful camellias and azaleas as well as live oaks dripping with Spanish moss.
The three-bedroom beach rental house on this barrier island is dark and quiet, except for a few cellphone alarms that go off before the sun hits the sand. Someone has — thankfully — started the coffeepot, and we see that the sun again will rise with a flourish over the Atlantic Ocean and white sandy beach.
The stars continue to align for Philadelphia’s flourishing dining scene.
April in Paris may be romantic, but there’s no need to cross the ocean for springtime magic. New York in April is another city worth singing about, awakened from winter hibernation in a rush of spring blossoms and high spirits. Few cities can boast more lavish floral displays, including those atop the hats in the event that inspired New York’s own musical classic, America’s most joyous Easter Parade.
As waterfalls go, Bridal Veil Falls are fairly small and easy to find. They cascade above Highway 64 just a couple of miles north of the town of Highlands in the Great Smoky Mountains of western North Carolina.
The choice of activities in Hocking Hills is far more textured than you might expect, starting in winter and early spring with the frozen waterfalls in the state park.
It’s possible to stay healthy while visiting New Orleans, but you’ll have to get off the well-trod tourist trail.
Montreal’s Underground City, a vast complex of stores, restaurants and more, makes it possible to shop, dine, be entertained, and even have minor medical issues cared for without ever dodging a snowflake.
The announcer, mounted on a horse named Gus, said “go,” and dozens of young boys and girls ran across the rodeo arena, in pursuit of a calf and the red ribbon on his tail. The first child to get a piece of the ribbon would win a prize. A giggling wedge of children turned and came running back, the now ribbon-less calf loping behind them.
I’ve never been to a city that loves itself more than Pittsburgh.
There’s more to the Florida Keys than the Duval Crawl and cheap shell souvenirs
At our tour guide’s mention of scorpion spiders, an uneasy murmur rippled through the crowd.