ANTHONY BOURDAIN – AUTHOR, TV HOST AND THE ORIGINAL BAD BOY OF CELEBRITY CHEFS – IS NOT ONE TO LEAVE BUSINESS UNFINISHED. YEARS AGO HE HAD TO MAKE A HASTY EXIT FROM LEBANON, BUT NOW HE RESUMES HIS FOOD TOUR OF ITS VIBRANT CAPITAL CITY...
THERE’S A PRISTINE WHITE TAKEAWAY RESTAURANT on Islington’s desirable Upper Street called Ottolenghi and it’s a shrine to the sweet potato and mighty aubergine. Visible through the window is a shimmering crate of lucky Romano red peppers and jewelled couscous destined to appear on one of the platters of heavenly spiced salad. By the till are billowing nutty meringues and dreamy lemon polenta cakes that will be munched by a star-studded clientele – one half of the rock band Franz Ferdinand plus children are seated on the primary-coloured Verner Panton chairs,...
In the graveyard of inventions that never quite worked, there is a small, strange section devoted to language. For every buzzword that fl ies, according to Marian Salzman, a million sink like a stone. She should know. Salzman, an advertising-executive-turned-PR who popularised the term metrosexual, laughs at the words she thought would take off and which sound completely absurd. In the 1990s, when women reached the boardroom in increasing numbers, she had high hopes for She E O. She valiantly drops the term Chindia to describe the rise of Chinese...
Is it a rock star? Is it the Second Coming? Nope, it’s the junior senator from Illinois. Barack Obama, the biggest craze to hit America since American Idol. Obama is the Tiger Woods of American politics, a black phenomenon that is about as un-black as you can get. And he’s a sexy, unapologetic smoker, who, as Rush Limbaugh said on national radio, ‘is on fire’. The day he announced he intended to run for president in 2008, the US Senate turned into backstage at the Oscars. Download: PDF...
As I watched my critically wounded friend being bundled onto a makeshift stretcher, my days as a chronicler of war around the world felt like they were coming to an end. Both his arms had been smashed by a volley of high-velocity bullets, and another bullet had torn through our interpreter’s throat, leaving him gasping and frothing on the back seat of our bullet-riddled car. Leaving Afghanistan in a Red Cross ambulance, our adventure was far from over. A gruelling drive through the Khyber Pass and the lawless border area of...
