Growing up in Libya in the early 1980s, Reema Islam found—and fell in love with—traditional cuisine that bore the influence of four decades of Italian rule.
What does gastropub food look like in a neighborhood where 167 languages are spoken? Tony Liu, the chef at the Queensboro in Jackson Heights, Queens, has an answer.
One of Seville’s most popular tapas, the montadito de pringá, is loaded with boiled Spanish staples from the region’s home-cooked stews. But the swine-packed sandwich sheds light on a dark past.
A family of deep-fried snacks reflects the island nation’s rich history of immigrant diversity, as well as its tumultuous past and complicated present.
Tea is consumed all over the world, but only in the U.S. has it been so equated with femininity that some companies try to profit from the idea that drinking it makes you less of a man.
Hamburgers, with secretive beef blends, over-the-top toppings, and outrageous prices, used to be the celebrated calling card for any respectable chef. Then the histrionics of the patty became a punch line.
In the West, where it’s called the ghost pepper, the king chile is synonymous with scorching heat and show-off frat boys. In Northeast India, it is a way of life and a means of survival.