…doesn’t speak the language; he doesn’t want to go there. It doesn’t bother him. It doesn’t make him feel uncomfortable that he knows nothing about the language or the food….

…is brewing for Boston’s Chinatown, Koreans in the Bronx and an encounter at Starbucks. All this and more in the Margins’ weekly roundup. A fusion food you can only find…

…about literature and art and food and faraway places. A town where Asians and Jews and Persians and 5th generation USC WASPs alike climb and clamber over each other in…

…what to talk about? Television programs: how boring. Food can be unifying, with just enough churn for low-stakes disagreement. But wouldn’t you agree that foodie talk — all that infantilized…

…the clouds to spoon food onto my grandfather’s tongue and hide the lotion bottles. My grandfather’s mouth stayed open all the time. His brain was a dryer, all the memories…

…lots of food. “Indonesia” exudes from most every page of the novel, which is why I wanted to translate it. I want an international readership and, more specifically, my family…

…suggest that I don’t need a translator. 9 Take the train across Cambodia, very rich people! Good food, baskets on strings, bikinis front row, mandarin robes, blue bodhisattvas, gold, more…

…days in bed. Before I could even put down my book bag, she’d send me out for Chinese food and her latest TVB dramas on VHS. When her roommates refused…

…led into the restaurant by homesickness: Boston Jamaica Jerk Chicken. Jamaican Chicken and Food. Hot and Ready. Two rows of orange plastic booths with salt, pepper and ketchup on every…

…“I’m ok, Sir. That’s what some of them are like. They say they’re freedom fighters, but they invade people’s homes, asking for food or money. They also frequently harass the…

…Ms. Chinatown, fill our bellies with food and laughter, entertain our guests, visitors, families, tell stories — real and made up, be together, make love, sweat into each other’s body…

…the kitchen making food; the next thing I knew a stranger was standing at the doorway with the baby in his arms. The child wasn’t crying, she didn’t know what…

…with Alexander Chee one afternoon in a crowded Korean restaurant where we ate food served to us on sizzling hot plates, and then ambled over to my office to chat…

…the first Vietnamese grocery store in Boston. He’s worked as a paperboy, dishwasher, librarian, cashier, gas attendant, auto body repairman, retail sales associate, pastry chef, food truck driver, line cook,…

…old, her voice louder than hearts and derbakkehs. She calls her children from the farthest room in the house, screams, Yalla or else, says, Eat your food and be grateful….

…south side, in an area near Nolensville Pike and Elysian Fields Road, sit Kurdish bakery shops, a food market, and a mosque called the Salahadeen Center of Nashville. But the…

…fat = stay wherever you are, because you need to be dead, you lazy, fat fuck of a terrorist. Travel Life Tip: Love Your Mother’s Food If you are Arab…

…of white folks, too. We were kept there for an hour of questions and answers: questions about writing and love and food and China, about Cameron, about the Knicks. And…

…with New Yorkers or American urbanites: they’re creative, they eat cool food, they make snarky comments, and they’re really good-looking. Was it a conscious choice of yours to emphasize cultural…

…1972. As a penalty, my brother couldn’t get his residence card or food ration for three years after his birth. The hard-won son was their hope to carry on the…