http://www.yesweekly.com/articles.sec-248-1-chow.html Whether he recognizes me as a food critic or not, the waiter at Turmeric is thrilled to talk about the menu. "India is so big. There are 600 specialties. That is too much for the menu. I must keep it to 60, or the chef, he will complain." Jay regales us about the sub-continent for 15 minutes. ]]> I began this project with full intentions on writing about dessert: cakes, pies, cookies...you know - the sweet stuff. That's what I assumed, anyway, after undertaking to write about Winston- Salem's Midtown Cafe & Dessertery. After all, this place made its bones on homemade desserts and fragrant goodies from the kitchen. ]]> system. And because we're not big on flu shots or over-the counter appeasements, I decided to attack with the most timehonored of home remedies: chicken noodle soup. ]]> Last week the Dow Jones Industrial Average continued its jagged slide towards its bottom. And along with millions of theoretical dollars, the US lost perhaps 200,000 jobs in October. The situation on the ground in the two wars in which we are engaged remains unchanged - which is to say, it's not good. ]]> It%uFFFDs 6 p.m. in Kernersville, suppertime, and the CH Cafeteria is positively jamming. Seriously. I just waited like half an hour in a queue reaching back toward the door, particularly aggravating because I am freakin%uFFFD starving and it%uFFFDs hard for me to... ]]> The stock market is crashing; the credit market is knotted up like a 60-car wreck on a superhighway; job losses mount; the dollar continues to weaken. And here I am, sitting next to a sumptuous blonde by candlelight, drinking a martini and eating a $40 steak. ]]> We gather in the long hallway three floors above South Elm Street, the main artery of a converted boardinghouse, its rooms now fashioned into the home of Charles and Ruth Jones. Actors! There are maybe 50 of us, milling at the top of the stairs and threading through the rooms. ]]> She%uFFFDs not shaking, not exactly, but she enters the place with a sense of urgency and makes straight for the counter. %uFFFDHow are you today?%uFFFD Betsy Gauthier asks her. %uFFFDNot so good today,%uFFFD says Avery Bernstein. %uFFFDI came straight here.%uFFFD She%uFFFDs checking out the goods under the glass: fudge, turtles, chocolate bark, toffees, dipped cookies and fruit. ]]> Variety is still the spice of life at one local lunch buffet. I was pleased to discover this recently at Taste of Thai Restaurant in the Westover Gallery of Shops in Greensboro. A popular hot spot for Thai cuisine, Taste of Thai has been operating for over a decade now. ]]> At 2:35 p.m., driving through the streets of Kernersville in the rain, a deep hunger settles in my gut. Sometimes I forget to eat lunch, or it just seems awfully inconvenient. This is one of those days. Like I say, it’s drizzly, and there’s an early-fall chill settling into the air. ]]> But more likely it was because my fish-head vegetarian wife left town with our daughter and I was charged with the care and feeding of our two boys, both of whom have been raised in a household where red meat — and steaks in particular — don’t come around much. ]]> Anyone can eat one course, scarfed down over the kitchen sink. And two or three courses that’s just adding dessert or maybe an appetizer. A four-course meal is a civilized thing, but five courses is just a bit more so. There is no such thing in decent society as a six-course meal. ]]> There are 200-plus craft beers to be sampled at the Summertime Brews Festival in the Greensboro Coliseum Annex last Saturday, ranging from supermarket staples to stuff fermented in local garages with mad-science fervor. ]]> A while back while on an assignment, my editor told me about a movement in the world of food. A shift away from fast food. A shift away from the large chain restaurant and more to a place immersed in the local economy. A place that uses as many local products has possible. This idea intrigued me. I thought of down-home local places I was familiar with and one place came to mind: the little white two story house on the corner. Everyone has one in their town: the little restaurant that looks a little rundown on the outside, no just rustic. ]]> Here’s a dirty little culinary confession: I love fried chicken. Freakin’ love it. Always have. And when I moved to the South 20 years ago (good god) I was introduced to a whole new universe of fried chicken. ]]> The Greensboro Women’s Resource Center does a lot of good work — providing classes, counseling and support for women looking for a leg up in the job market or to further their education. ]]> “Okay,” she says, “they’re getting ready to kick everybody out.” “How do they like that?” I ask. She shrugs her shoulders. “We just tell ’em, ‘The movie starts at nine and the seats are reserved.’” There’s only room for about 35 back here on the patio at Sweet Basil’s, the cozy cottage that once housed Café D’Arte, and on Friday nights it fills up fast. ]]> The further back into your childhood you get, the more unclear the memories. The ones I have around my single-digit birthdays include only flashes of images I piece together and from which try to make some sense. ]]> And it's because of hot dogs. More specifically, Takero Kobayashi, the Japanese competitive eater who this year at Coney Island's famous July 4 th Hot Dog Eating Contest came from behind to tie reigning champion Joey Chestnut after 10 minutes of regulation gorging at 59 hot dogs each. ]]> I'm sitting here eating noodles, and it's all because of hot dogs.

I'm in this Vietnamese joint on High Point Road, and I've got a bowl - no, make that a bucket - of noodles and broth in front of me, with all the trimmings, and I'm straight-up jammin' on it, slurping it down like I'm getting paid for it (which, in a sense, I am), and there's little dark spots on my notebook and shirt because the long, thin noodles splatter when I suck them down. The soup is hot, in both flavor and temperature; my nose is starting to leak and my forehead breaks out in beads.]]>