Word: oakes
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: during 2000-2009
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...family of two. Theoretically, a good number of the items would need to be replenished every six to 12 months. "A family that lives from check to check can't afford to do that. It was a real eye-opener," says John, who, with his wife, works at Oak Ridge National Laboratory in Tennessee. He piled everything into a huge duffel bag, and his wife couldn't lift it. "I think there is a need for prioritization," he says...
...required. In such a world, senseless purchases weren’t about ordering bagged lunches and checking up on nutrition facts; they were about proving how much better and more elegant we were than everyone else. Whither went our intricately carved wooden chairs? Our tables crafted from aged, solid oak covered in soft, silken tablecloths? Our bow-tied and jacketed service staff? The degrading and dishonorable concept of self-service—requesting our own meals on high-tech kiosks, for example—had as large a place in this elegant world of silk and mahogany as women...
...would dine in one of the hidden rooms upstairs and choose his next female victim from among those in the dining room. The count's bedroom across the lobby from the Oak Hall became the USW party committee room, where many a writer was read trumped-up charges before being shipped to the camps or expelled from...
...entire history of Soviet literature played out in the Oak Hall, where loyal literary functionaries and dissident writers ate, drank and often fought. It was there that foreign VIPs were brought to rub shoulders with selected members of the intelligentsia. At the height of Gorbachev's perestroika in 1988, U.S. President Ronald Reagan met there with dissident Soviet writers...
With the collapse of the U.S.S.R. and the USW, the restaurant went through several hands before being bought by entrepreneur Andrei Deloss, who refurbished the Oak Hall. Now the fireplace still blazes cozily, a quiet piano sounds by the entrance and the former bedroom-cum-committee-room is available for private parties. Beria's sinister apartment upstairs has become a cigar saloon. The restaurant is still called the Writers' Club, but as a friendly waiter explains: "Poor writers now stay at home; rich ones come to us." 50 Povarskaya Street...