Word: bread
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...ring. There was the rainbow cacophony that defined the free-love, footloose '60s and the avocados and vegetal yellows of the '70s, which style experts attribute to environmental empathy spawned by Rachel Carson's Silent Spring. Precisely how these trends catch on has always been hazy; the trail of bread crumbs is typically detectable only in hindsight. But there's big business in forecasting the color of the moment. A DuPont survey found that 39% of prospective car buyers would buy a completely different brand if unable to obtain their color preference...
...some degree, of course, Johnson is enjoying the honeymoon phase of his NBA career. How many times have we seen players break public bread with a new coach after his hiring only to toss it in his face a few months later? And at the end of the day, fans don't care if Mother Teresa is in charge of the refs: if Joey Crawford misses that goal-tending call at the end of a Lakers game or sends Kobe to the showers early, all of Los Angeles will be calling for his head. The refs need more than...
...Deli, which serves up smoky cheese from County Cork and freshly made poached-salmon sandwiches, owner Laura Heap says she's already noticed a downturn in business. "I get a lot of local moms, and they're spending less," she says. "Whereas they used to buy their eggs and bread, now they're just buying a cup of tea." Heap, who opened the shop less than a year ago, has dropped her prices 25% and let some staff go. She remains upbeat about the future, but with Canary Wharf on her doorstep, she concedes, "I do feel a slight wave...
...hunk of mastodon, gnawing flesh that resists seductively before it yields, squirting fluids red with blood and fat over my hands and down my chin...Elbows out, the men sitting either side of me lunge for the platter to see who can sop up the most sauce with their bread and fill their triple-sized shot glasses from the bottles of Maker's Mark that line the tables, to see who can toss down the most boilermakers. This meal is not for wimps. As we tear and chew and slurp, the band segues to jazz and then...
...wrong, I would love to believe that fried potato wedges are rendered void of calories in the magical vacuum of Annenberg, but when one regularly encounters such fabulous claims they become increasingly difficult to believe. Furthermore, they were often gauged in ridiculous units—14 ounces of pita bread, anyone...