In Eastern Europe, there are little pastries called Fornetti. You buy them in a shop, or at stalls at festivals, and you buy them by weight. They come out of the oven every few minutes on big trays, little hot pockets of chocolate or apricot or pizza-sauce or sausage in crispy layers of filo-dough, and the shopkeeper scoops up however many you want ( Read more... )

Todd Various says, “Have you seen the German fire show? It kicks ass.” There’s no good place in my own show schedule to plan it, so when I see them start up, I walk away in mid-conversation and start pushing to the front of their audience - I’ll sit on the ground, which Macedonians won’t do, so I might as well get to the inner circle. It’s easy to ( Read more... )