Once a month in Mexico City, La Galería de Comercio presents a project that promotes public encounters on a corner of Calle Comercio and Calle Martí in the Colonia Escandón. Unlike typical white-cube galleries, La Galería de Comercio embraces the street, with its everyday activities, and produces events that adhere to the streets’ structural and social conditions.
Her right arm extends gracefully, the tips of her fingers slightly lifted, as he leads her across the dance floor. Her hips swivel, and shoulders roll. The base of her neck arches. Her lush hair sweeps through the air. An undulating energy stream, the song’s rhythm, connects the pair.
We’re only fifteen minutes into the interview when Itzhak Beery spits rum in my face. First he takes a swig—well, a trago—of rum. There is the glint of mischief in his eye, the mischief of a man who proposes to put you off balance, if only for the sake of rebalancing you.
It’s Patricio’s impeccable eye and sense of taste that we’re counting on, as we take a journey into his home and into his kitchen. What delicacies from the sea await? Join us as we get to know Patricio, his past, his passion and his favorite fish preparation.
From under long dreadlocks, Marco Williams speaks with the quiet but carefully chosen words of a seasoned interviewer and teacher. In his deliberateness—even in the way that he seems carefully contained within his stature—is a focused energy for speaking truth.
Negrete began tattooing professionally at Good Time Charlie’s in East Los Angeles in 1976. Before that, he tattooed in prison and out of his home. “When I started, I was the only Hispanic anywhere,” Negrete recalls.
For these five top chefs, making ceviche is an intensely serious, deeply personal affair, rooted in childhood memories of sea, sun and family. When they prepare a ceviche for their customers, they are making those memories fresh again.
That’s the first thing you notice at the market, all the guys have hooks. As in Captain Hook: big and sharp, with wooden butts. They use them like extensions of their arms, like second nature. “I’ve never once used it as a weapon,” says Ed Cruci, one of the first fish sellers we stop to talk with.
The chiringuito, the quintessential no-frills summer food destination, has been home to numerous gatherings over the years, triggering revelations and confessions around approachable, comfort food in Spain for almost a century. Come summer, its presence becomes ubiquitous all over the country, particularly at the beachfront, with many chiringuitos standing out for their simple yet well executed, produce-led, short-order cooking.
Though, from the outside, Cáceres might seem like a small town with no special appeal, appearances are deceiving. Cáceres not only has a thriving history but also a superlative gastronomy.
So how does a plastic artist, house painter, entrepreneur and dog-walker decide to open a catering business in one of the most competitive cities in the world? Nothing stops Antonio from creating magic in the kitchen.
Two minutes and fifty-four seconds. That’s how long it takes the six bulls to run from their corral on the border of medieval Pamplona to the Plaza de Toros, the arena where they will fight to their death in the evening.
The reported closing in December 2012 of El Faro, New York's oldest Spanish restaurant, founded in 1927, marks the end of a story that stretches back more than a century, to the days when New York was just starting to become Nueva York.
Héctor Sanz arrived in New York knowing no one. In his mind, this was a six-month hiatus from a soon-to-be settled life as an engineer in small-town Spain. In reality, he was about to embark on a career in the restaurant business that began with him as a bus boy in a bolero jacket and brought him to head his own burgeoning restaurant group.
What sealed the deal for me was an invitation to see the actual grill, and the different cuts of meat rotating slowly in the heat while the master cook gave orders in the same way a conductor would lead a musical ensemble. Because cuisine is music: that mysterious form of time spent in the senses and in feeling.
Everyone needs to spend some time in Brazil at some point in their life in order to put themselves in touch with sheer joy of being alive. But for those of us in New York who are impatient and can’t quite manage to pack up and go tomorrow, there are at least some options for music, dance, and food that can keep us going until the opportunity arrives.
The boticas initially sold only drugs and elixirs. Over time, they began selling food and beverages, until they become a type of bar or restaurant, called boteco.
Santa Teresa, with its calm forest and clean water, was close enough to downtown to be the ideal place for those who could pay to live there and build huge and beautiful mansions. Many of those fabulous houses are still standing, recalling the times of Brazilian’s belle époque and making the walk through the historical streets a special treat
Perhaps it’s the caipirinhas or the Portuguese wine, but everyone is cheerful when it’s time to gather around the table for a feast that is sure to please both hearts and bellies. São Paolo might be thousands of miles away, but here, in this New York home, surrounded by the stories, the samba, the surf boards, and the tastiest cozido ever, you can’t really tell.
At Santander avenue, we are dropped off and taken to the Bastion of Santa Catalina. For the next hour or so people dance, sing, and drink under the stars. Partygoers from other chivas join in. The music brings everyone together.