The official 2013 Visitor Guide for Natchez, Mississippi (print).
All posts by hsentenac
Stocking Your Home Bar With Tony Abou-Ganim
The party follows Tony Abou-Ganim. One hour with the modern mixologist, and we felt like we’d signed up for grown-up spring break. As he himself said, “it’s no coincidence negroni rhymes with Tony.”
And in fact, we learned more from yesterday’s “Stocking and Tending Your Home Bar” seminar than we did in four years of high school Spanish. Adult education at its best.
Pop Up Veuve Clicquot Champagne Trailer
Trailers and booze have a long symbiotic history, but it usually involves pre-painted aluminum panels and Bud Select. Leave it to Veuve Clicquot to up the combo’s class factor with an Airstream trailer tour.
To celebrate the arrival of spring, the luxe champagne brand will tour the country with a pop-up aluminum bar, staring in South Florida. Beginning next week, it’ll be parked outside the Moore Building selling bubbly to attendees of the Keith Haring exhibition.
How to Make Irish Car Bomb Jello Shots for St. Paddy’s Day
St. Paddy’s Day is around the corner, and we’re so over the same tired traditions that get trotted out every year. Green beer, corned beef and cabbage, shamrock shakes, yadda-yadda-yadda. Where’s the originality?
This year, think outside the boozy box and delight your alcoholic friends with these epic Irish Car Bomb Jell-o shots. Treats worthy of St. Pat himself.
Miami Cocktail Company’s Low-Cal Concoctions
Move over, Bethenny Frankel, and take your Skinny Girl swill with you. There’s a tastier, stronger low-cal cocktail company in town. And P.S.: The makers are better-looking than you too.
The dudes at Miami Cocktail Company are now plying the 305 with their zero-sugar, zero-carb, 99.9 percent natural piña colada and old-time sweet tea concoctions. Dieting never tasted so good.
South Beach Food and Wine Festival (SOBEWFF) Coverage
Grand Tasting Village: How to Navigate the SoBeWFF Big Event
The Whole Foods Grand Tasting Village is like the open bar at a wedding reception. It’s where everyone wants to be. And when 70,000 foodies gather en masse, you can bet your monthly food budget there’ll be plenty of action.
There have been plenty of unforgettable, Instagram-worthy, LOL-inducing moments over the years. Plus, the food is superlative.
Anne Burrell Talks Karaoke, Diamond Dishes, and Women in the Biz
Anne Burrell is the Food Network’s bubbly, blond ambassador of good times and great eats. A frequent face on the network, she’s taken turns on Iron Chef America and Best Thing I Ever Ate, hosted Secrets of a Restaurant Chef, and just kicked off season four of Worst Cooks in America and season two of Chef Wanted With Anne Burrell. Her second cookbook is set to be released later this year (her first was aNew York Times bestseller), and she’s participating in a whole host of events at the South Beach Wine & Food Festival. She’s kind of a dynamo.
SoBeWFF: Does the Glass Make a Difference When It Comes to Beer?
Mason jar, can, funnel: prevailing wisdom has generally dictated that almost any vessel is good enough for beer. But times they are a changin’. And as beer evolves from college dorm endeavor to serious palate pursuit – glassware is evolving right along with it.
Yesterday, Spiegelau hosted a seminar entitled, “Beer Tasting With Spiegelau: Does the Glass Make a Difference?” And after sitting through the 90-minute show and tell, we can honestly say — it totally does.
SoBeWFF: Anthony Bourdain and Nigella Lawson Drink PBR; Talk Tattoos, Runny Eggs and Christopher Walken
Anthony Bourdain and Nigella Lawson might be the hottest culinary duo since bacon met the frying pan. And yesterday, the Taste stars took the stage together at the SoBeWFF.
Lounging on a couch, the two talked significant others, guilty pleasures and Christoper Walken. Oh, and drank beer. Seriously, PBR has never seemed so sexy.
SoBeWFF: Stocking Your Home Bar With Tony Abou-Ganim
The party follows Tony Abou-Ganim. One hour with the modern mixologist, and we felt like we’d signed up for grown-up spring break. As he himself said, “it’s no coincidence negroni rhymes with Tony.”
And in fact, we learned more from yesterday’s “Stocking and Tending Your Home Bar” seminar than we did in four years of high school Spanish. Adult education at its best.
SoBeWFF: With Enough Wine, You Too Can Cook Like Robert Irvine
Robert Irvine is kind of a bad ass. In addition to his buffed up bod (which we’ve been lucky enough to see shirtless at last year’s SoBeWFF), he’s got the vast array of knowledge to school many an amateur (and pro) chef. Last night, he was on hand to help sauced up cooks prepare pasta tableside.
Irvine took the helm at the Barilla interactive dinner at the iconic Biltmore Hotel, and tipsy attendees learned a lesson or two from theKitchen Impossible chef.
Arsenio Hall interview
For children of the ’90s, the terms Woof Woof Woof and dog pound have little to do with canines. Instead, they’re likely to bring back memories of flat tops, Bill Clinton sax solos, and first gen fist pumping. Lucky for all the nostalgia junkies, Celebrity Apprentice champion and one time Coming to America drag queen Arsenio Hall is bringing the party back to late night.
Cultist caught up with Arsenio at the Shore Club, where he made an appearance ahead of NATPE’s global television conference. And seriously, the dude hasn’t aged one damn day. We talked to the late-night legend on what’s different the second time around, his dream guest, and Bill Maher as the ultimate hard ass.
Why Broward County needs a food policy council
Like most issues in our labyrinthian modern lives, the concept of eating locally can be a lot more complicated than it looks. From a lack of local farms to dubious sourcing by supermarkets, it can be tough for consumers to make the right decisions, even with the best of intentions behind them.
Michael Madfis, owner of Fort Lauderdale Vegetables and advocate for decentralized farming, thinks that one of the key elements to upping our consumption of locally grown food is to start a Food Policy Council (FPC). An FPC is, essentially, a group of stakeholders from different food-related sectors that examine how the food system is operating and figure out how to improve it. And Madfis thinks South Florida needs one, stat.
Les Miserables movie review
For fans of the epic, enduring stage spectacular Les Miserables, a movie version worth watching has been a long time coming. And because of the play’s enduring popularity, the movie’s all-star cast and the preemptive Oscar buzz – the hype for its Christmas Day opening was undeniably huge.
But realistically, could the flick ever live up to its fevered expectation?
I’m a lifelong Les Miz fan(atic) – a tradition passed down from my parents before me. My father scored us seats on Broadway just ahead of NYC’s millennium celebration, and it made my little teenage heart swell to twice its size. Like so many others, I was waiting with baited breath and absurdly high expectations to see this year’s big screen incarnation.
Short Story: A Little Rest
She was cold. Cold and she was tired. It was all his goddamn fault. He’d always kept the thermostat at an uncomfortable 55 degrees, and the chill in the air wasn’t helping keep her movements stealthy.
She padded along the wall, heading towards the kitchen where she knew he’d be propped up on a stool, sipping a beer at what was once “their” center island.
This moment was a long time coming. After all the bullshit; the money woes, the unsatisfying sex, the cowardice he displayed in dealing with her issues. The divorce filing was the last straw. How DARE he leave her in the lurch after her diagnosis? The deadbeat couldn’t provide for her in any other capacity, the least he could have done was stand firm for moral support. Was she supposed to suffer the humiliation of hospitalization without a husband by her side? She wouldn’t stand for it. He was the one who deserved to suffer. Not her.
If only she’d known he’d turn into such a loser, she would have blown the asshole off for that late-night cocktail by the bay and saved her youth for what would have surely been a better prospect. Young and stupid she’d been. At the time she’d found his quiet softness charming. Intriguing, even. Now she just saw weakness.
The pure, primal fury she’d felt at the news of the filing had been enough to fuel a wicked escape. The only casualties were the two first fingers on the right arm of a nurse’s aid and a ground floor windowpane. It was easier than she’d expected.
She snagged a golf club from the garage on her way in.
He sat silently in the kitchen, as he did most every night. She’d made his life a living hell – that much was true, but it wasn’t pleasure he was feeling, just an odd emptiness. It was certainly a more peaceful prospect than he was used to, he thought, and God knows he needed a little peace. But was this all he could expect? Was this what he’d been waiting for?
The past 13 years had been an endless stream of mood swings, broken dishes, raw scratches and bitter tears. Battered husband? HA. No one would believe such a thing. Besides, what kind of man can’t handle his own wife, they’d say? They would stare with squinty eyes, glaring at his bruises, whispering about his lateness, pitying his lack of backbone. But no one suspected she was capable of such things, and he’d been forced to struggle silently with her demons.
He’d tried at first, when the little hints turned to obvious alarms, but she was adamant about refusing help. She was fine, she claimed. Just a little moody, a little passionate. Nothing that couldn’t be handled. So he was the one who bore the brunt of her cataclysmic rages and despondent moods. He cleaned up her messes; fabricated her excuses – kept the outside world believing she was a-ok. And she could always fall back on the charm. People loved her. He had loved her. But lately, it had grown to a … even he couldn’t cover up. And then the hospital. And the cold hard truth that came with the diagnosis. She still refused to believe it, but he knew. He’d known all along, and finally, it wasn’t his secret to keep anymore.
He turned it over and over in his mind – the finality of what he’d done; the reality of moving on without her. Was there anything he’d miss? He alit upon the question, curious to ferret out his own thoughts and feelings – something he’d adeptly avoided for more than a decade.
A sad smile crossed his face as it struck him: He would miss her. Shit, he was just as crazy as she was. Did they share a twisted symbiosis? Would he wither and die without her?
But the moment was fleeting, and before he could delve deeper into this surprising chasm, the first blow came.
This was her moment. Eyes dark, she slid her fingers along the club after the first hit. Not the most graceful weapon, perhaps, but damned if it didn’t give her some primal pleasure swinging it at his head, she thought.
After the first major blow, there wasn’t much room for conscious thought in his addled brain. But shit, he thought as darkness overcame him, this will make one hell of a headline. And then thinking ceased altogether.
She stood over him, a puzzled look on her face. She supposed she had done the right thing. He was gone and she was free. No more nonsense or flaccidity to deal with. She’d shown him.
Funny though, she thought as she stared at the huddled mass, it was his softness that had won her over that first night. They’d sipped Manhattans and he’d peeked at her with that fleeting smile. And now what was left of him was that very softness, in a pile on the floor, ringed by red pools staining mottled tiles.
Watching the blood seep silently, the panic came upon her. Without his steady presence by her side, would she survive? What was she without him? The terror rolled in sharp and deadly, and she gasped at the immensity of her realization.
She stood wavering a moment, then slid quietly down beside him. They can fetch me here, she thought. She would welcome the drugs; the hospital bed; the quick forgetting. But for now, they would have a little rest. It’s been a long 13 years, after all.