FRANKFURT, Germany — I was starving. I’d been in this business-centric city about eight hours, and I hadn’t eaten since dinner on the jetliner six hours earlier. I’d opted to skip the breakfast I had available to me. So, by 7:15 p.m., I’d already scouted various places that seemed tempting to a foodie — or, as nobody else calls me,
HELSINKI, Finland — To all my kin and friends who claim I don’t listen, let “Mr. Eats” bury your lies in truth. Forever, I hope. On my trip here, Doug Nohl, a colleague from my Ohio University days, insisted I try salmon soup at Market Square. Doug said to leave Helsinki without trying it borders on a sin, punishable
My boy Manny refuses to call me “Mr. Eats,” and I can’t get my best friend Nick to do so either. No matter … they’re just ignoring the obvious. I have savored more on the culinary front than both men combined. Then again, I’m a lot older. Mark Twain said it well: “There are basically two types of people. People
Even amid the historic beauty of Rome, a Black man can run into ugliness.I’ve discovered that fact in international cities other than Rome, because as a Black man who travels, I know, sadly, that racism will follow me wherever I set my luggage down.In the past, I’ve recounted instances of where my Blackness got me treatment of the second-class variety.
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