Monday, 8 February 2016 | 21 comments
I am in Cote d’Ivoire for work, and was in Nigeria for 12 days before that. When all is said and done, I’ll have been bouncing around West Africa for almost a month.
When we travel for pleasure, we happily suspend our routines in an excuse to eat out and explore local foods. These are the types of experiences that span beautiful, full-bleed spreads in food and travel magazines, whether it’s a high-end destination restaurant or stopping at a street food stall. Some of us even go on vacation because we want to eat something particular, want to spend an afternoon in a French café or walk down a street in Bangkok with the burn of chili on our tongues.
But when we travel for business (at least, for non-food-related business, I suppose), those of us who are hungry often end up disappointed.
Thursday, 3 December 2015 | 56 comments
I skipped out on talking about Thanksgiving food this year. Don’t get me wrong, I like Thanksgiving. It ranks higher for me than other, soon-to-follow winter holidays, which stress me out with their gift giving. I’m even pretty decent at making Thanksgiving happen: I can cook. Thanksgiving does, however, typically fall pretty close to my mom’s birthday, which laces it with some quiet sadness.
I started this blog in the wake of my mom’s death. At the time, I didn’t really realize that they coincided, but the archives here are a pretty good marker for Everything After. The site is now a little less than five years old. I don’t think I ever thought I would continue for this long.
Thursday, 5 November 2015 | 28 comments
We threw a blowout, knock-down housewarming party a couple weekends ago (obviously belated, since we bought the house in March). I want to write about the party more another time, mostly because I cooked pumpkin soup INSIDE OF A PUMPKIN. But that’s beside the point. Today I want to talk about sweet potatoes.
Thursday, 1 October 2015 | 13 comments
I arrived home from Botswana to full-on fall. No matter how how much of a jaded, ungrateful traveller I become, I don’t think the whole other-side-of-the-planet thing will ever get old. One day, you’re sweating it out in the southern part of the African continent, in the country that is seventy percent Kalahari Desert, in a city that gets eleven inches of rain per year. After thirty hours hurtling around in metal tubes, you begin descent into the mid-Atlantic U.S., the first pops of orange and red flashing up at you from the ground. Stepping out of the airport, your hair curls from the damp. It smells like dead leaves. A hurricane is coming. What a world.
Monday, 31 August 2015 | 20 comments
Ben has been on a weird but compelling futurist kick lately. Basically this means that in the car or in evenings we listen to podcasts about the possibility of uploading your consciousness to the Internet, or the most currently hostile environments on Earth, or what a world with 10 billion humans would look like. By turns apocalyptic or starry-eyed techno-optimistic, the types of people we have been listening to make you feel very, very small and unimportant in the vast universe, while at the same time convinced that you are using way more resources than the tiny machine of your body could ever be entitled to. Dinner table conversation has been interesting, mostly because I can’t quite wrap my head around uploading one’s consciousness.