He was reading a Ken Follett novel when I poked my head through the passenger's side window. When I asked him about his favorite restaurant, he said he never ate out. But for some reason, we sensed this wasn't entirely true. “Well, there is a steak house I like..."
If it hadn't been for David and Sandra, it's pretty unlikely that Thursday's taxi adventure would have ended at the restaurant that serves ekmek like they make it in the cabbie's home village near Konya, Turkey.
Sara Berg-Johnson is lucky to be living (and eating) in what that Chowhound founder Jim Leff considers to be the best food city in the world: Montreal. Hungry and raring to dig deeper into the culinary scene in La Belle Ville, she ventured out on her very first taxi adventure last week.
Recently I was trying to explain to someone that you don't have to speak the local language to go on a taxi adventure. On Tuesday, I actually put this idea to the test.
Four days of blutwurst, fleischwurst, rindswurst, weisswurst, leberwurst, bratwurst, musical cheese, apple wine, potato salad, apple strudel and a beer festival in Frankfurt/Offenbach got me thinking that sounds (HWAAAA! HUUUUH!) would be more useful than adjectives to describe German food.
I have an Argentine writer friend who once made a brilliant observation about the cabbies of Buenos Aires being the new gauchos. After riding from Brandenburg Gate to Wilmersdorf in Roland's cab, I realized that the new gauchos are not confined to Buenos Aires.
