All You Can Eat. Those words bring up a lot of connotations, not all of them good. For some, they’re a challenge. For others, they mean a dump truck’s worth of mediocre food. For others still, they induce Vegas flashbacks. Well, my weary gamblers and skeptics, I come armed with

I think I’ve made it pretty clear over the months that although I am an infinite fat-ass and am obsessed with food, I was born without the “good cook” gene.  However, I do believe in the power of cookbooks and classes, and as a result of a onetime (pricey) session

I’ve got some awesome news! We received a grant from the Civic Joy Fund to put out a literary magazine celebrating SF and acting to counter the stupid “Doom Loop” narrative. It’s a gift to the people of San Francisco. And after months of working on this project it’s now available

I was introduced to Kennedy’s because my sister used to work at Rainforest Cafe on Fisherman’s Wharf for a while, and after hours of serving something called “Rasta Pasta” to extremely rude and awkwardly-dressed tourists (money belt, anyone?), she would head to Kennedy’s for some late-night fun, then stumble home with