As promotionally foreordained, the pickled-herring bash was not only a neighborhood nosh, but also a media mosh, with one local-news earth station at the curb towering over the lunch-hour line that was never less than 30 deep.
How many years have you been here? / […] / Before a dessicate sky left rivers of cracks / in the belly of your red earth?
The complete absence of fat from the tumour seemed to show that it differed from a xanthomyeloma of a tendon sheath.
Lahlou baked a cardamom frangipani and cut it into pieces as a base for roasted chicken. (Well, I used chicken; he used squab. Use whatever bird you fancy.) Then he topped the frangipani and poultry with kale and leaf-thin sugar-and-cardamom-sprinkled phyllo rectangles — made by baking them between baking sheets — like a savory mille-feuille.
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