Word: clams
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...name was added to the list of U.S. attorneys to be fired. When Iglesias was booted with the others on Dec. 7, William Kelley, a deputy to then White House counsel Harriet Miers, sent Sampson an e-mail saying that Domenici's chief of staff "is happy as a clam" about the move. A week later Sampson replied that "Domenici is going to send over names [for a replacement] tomorrow (not even waiting for Iglesias's body to cool)." Both Domenici and Wilson have denied acting improperly...
...feel wanted and needed." But when she didn't meet a suitable man, Hartman, now 67, paid New York City--based PersonalsTrainer $159.95 to polish her narrative. Her new entry begins "Whether listening to Merle Haggard while driving in my courier vehicle or settling in for some fried clams and a good conversation at Bob's Clam Hut, you will always find me with a smile on my face and a ready-hug for new friends and old." The new story generated more responses from prospective mates and "made me feel like I walked on water," Hartman says...
...Diesel honcho Renzo Rosso pumped up the volume with his 1980s-style high-waisted skinny jeans and blousons - all in white and gold. Finally a trio of California surfer dudes who go by the name of Trovato presented their collection of preppy chic polo shirts and cotton canvas clam-diggers in a tableau vivant that was meant to evoke an estate auction. They sing their tune by way of telling elaborate stories that give the straightforward merch a sexier context. This season the plot consisted of a rich, irreverent couple who had lost their fortune and had to sell their...
...whiz John Alton, and featuring occasional thrusts into the camera (a rifle, a dying man's hand, the pointed bra worn under a satiny blouse by Peggie Castle as Charlotte), the movie stays perfunctorily faithful to the book, including the use of a few famous lines. "Act like a clam or I'll open ya up like one" is there, and of course the final fatal dialogue...
...white, from the rectangular tables to the window blinds. The wait staff is all business (as is most of the clientele). The food, accelerating in flavor and intensity through a meal, seems conjured in Adrià's lab: breaded fois custard cream with apricot jam, baked skate with clam aioli, smoked beef with "ancient mustard" foam. In cooking as in science, not all lab experiments succeed: an unappealing appetizer of Iberian porkpie with truffled duck liver consisted mostly of morsels of fat. But considering the rich and varied fare dished out, the fact that we didn't feel bloated...