Travel • Living • Design
In Spain, the street is not a place you pass through on the way to somewhere else. It is the destination. What makes this work is not any single space or habit but the way three distinct things — the paseo, the rambla, and the tasca — dissolve into each other by evening.
São Miguel arrived after Pico, which meant arriving after something — after the volcanic desolation of Faial's ash fields, after Jeff's quiet reckoning with his…
Buenos Aires doesn't ease you in. It absorbs you, neighborhood by neighborhood, until one morning you realize you've stopped looking at a map. We arrived…
In Argentina, an asado is not a barbecue. It is a social event that happens to involve fire. The name comes from the Spanish verb asar —…
Before we left for Argentina, I had said it out loud: I wish I knew someone so we could experience a real asado. The universe,…
From the shallow Juliet balcony of our apartment in old Girona, rhythmic drums rose from the plaza below. Then horns. A crowd assembled. We had…
Continue reading → La Nit de Sant Joan: Fire, Catalan Pride, and a Sleepless Night in Girona
In Italy, the morning doesn't begin with coffee. It begins at the bar. The dapper barista steamed the milk with precision, poured the creamy froth…
Continue reading → The Italian Bar: How a Country Drinks Coffee
He wore a collared SS Lazio shirt tucked beneath his round belly, a sweatband on his wrist, and three pairs of glasses stacked on his…
There are four pasta dishes that belong specifically to Rome, and to nowhere else in Italy. Each one tells you exactly where you are. Their…
Continue reading → The Roman Pastas: Four Dishes, One City, No Substitutes
The train out of Barcelona had been canceled. That single fact rerouted an entire day — and turned Geneva, always planned as an overnight transit stop, into something we had to earn. What one evening in a city of precision and quiet elegance offers, possibly more than you'd expect.