Tin Fork

Mold gold

This is the best danged torta I can ever remember eating.

It’s black. It’s a fungus. It’s a disease. It’s delicious. I know because I’m sinking my fangs into a torta that’s drooling with it: huitlacoche. That’s a Nahuatl name meaning “sleeping excrescence.” It grows on ...

Haggis: bad, Nessy burgers: good

A nap and a Scottish piper wailing in the heather would go down well right now

"You can see forever!” says Mag. We’ve just got out of her car. Wind sifts up from the San Luis Rey river, snaking through the valley below. Interstate 15 swoops towards us like a gigantic ...

People look up to Syrian food

Competition among Middle East restaurants around here is intense.

People look up to Syrian food

Gluten-free duck

So next night, here I am again, staring across at their come-hither lights

Gluten-free duck

Sushi and tacos, making whoopee

“You could really fill yourself for eight bucks, no problem.”

Sushi and tacos, making whoopee

I’m hemorrhaging mayonnaise

“Boy, hero to zero in five minutes flat.”

I’m hemorrhaging mayonnaise

Typically Cuban

I love how people drop their inhibitions here

Typically Cuban

What Italians like to do

Any time I can afford it, I’ll be here.

My friend Carlos paid for this. I would have been too mean. By the time I arrive, he already has a large plate of one of the taglieri (“cutting boards”). It’s laid out on the ...

Bedford in hot Tecate

I’m just the kind of turista the people of Tecate don’t need.

The tuba player sweats as he wiggles into his tuba — sousaphone, more accurately. It sends evil glints into the café crowd. But it’s so hot, he wriggles out again, and goes to sit under ...

Pure pupusa pleasure

“I’ve always loved their soft squelchiness, and the things you can fill them with.”

Sunday night, seven, 8th Street, up near Highland, National City. Not many places open for a hungry lad like myself. Yes, Cabo Wabo Grill and Bar is blasting out Historia de Un Amor, but I’m ...

Panini plan has to work

“I turn away people asking for omelets every day, but I’ve stopped feeling guilty about it.”

Bob and Kate Carpenter had a decision to make. “I said ‘We have no pension, no safety net. This has to work,’” says Bob. The question? Whether to give up their lives as journalists and ...

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