At the Wandering Goose, Seattle.
The origins of this dish go back to the California Gold Rush. Placerville, a town in the Sierra foothills, was also known as Hangtown. A gentleman, flush with gold, came in to a restaurant and allegedly said, “Give me the most expensive thing you have!”
The result was this: Oysters, pork belly, soft-boiled eggs, all on top of a bed of potatoes. At the time, it was the eggs that were regarded as the true extravagance.
The interior lining of my bespoke suit from Hong Kong. Made by Empire International Tailors.
In the Yau Ma Tei neighbourhood of Hong Kong.
Not that I ever called him that to his face. But his jaunty swagger, bullet shaped head, and rough-but-hilarious talk made the parallel inevitable. He was the clear king of his domain, a street restaurant in the Temple Street Night Market. Yau Ma Tei, Hong Kong.
In the Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge, UK.
Michelangelo’s Madonna, in the Onze-Lieve-Vrouwekerk (Church of Our Lady) in Bruges.
At Onze-Lieve-Vrouwekerk. I love the conspiratorial look of the Angel.
In France, from the train.
In the Archaeology building, at Kildare St.
While we were eating at the Yemen Cafe in Brooklyn, they received a delivery from their halal butcher. I started making a picture or two, and this fellow noticed me. I love his pride.
George, at Pop’s Diner in Flushing.
Taken from the Empire State Building.
Venetian glass by Carlo Scarpa. Photographed at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
My wife Ulrika, among ancient Egyptian pottery at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, with my reflection faintly visible.
For the Lexington Avenue exit.
Our wedding rings.
With mascarpone cheese, mango sauce, and fresh strawberries. At