WHERE DO THEY ALL COME FROM?

A couple more pictures from Liverpool, while we're on the subject. Within an hour of arriving, I watched two drunk women beat the shit out of a man in a wheelchair. Also, I find in my travel notes this cryptic statement: "Salad is a flawed concept."

A FOUR OF FISH (HOLD THE FINGER PIE)

Was in LIVERPOOL in February working on a short little thingy for Bon Appetit magazine which is out in this month's issue. For a Beatles fan, there's a funny dream-like feeling about landing at John Lennon International Airport (actual slogan: "Above Us Only Sky" — is that really the message an airport wants to get behind? In case of plane failure, there is no after-life?) and directing the taxi driver to the Hard Days Night Hotel which opened earlier this year and which is right around the corner from what remains of the Cavern Club. The fish & chips are from a restaurant called London Carriage Works. Anyway, the story is HERE

SWAMP CRACK

Alligators, as you probably know, love marshmallows. "Swamp crack" is what Captain Sammy, whose damaged-but-not-quite-gnawed-off hand that is, calls them. Riding around in a fast, loud air-boat looking for gators is good for a hangover—almost as good as a really good hamburger (see below). Later that night we ate fried alligator at Cochon, which we all felt a little guilty about.

A VERY GOOD BURGER

Camellia Grill, New Orleans. Just home after a long weekend down there for my friend Bill's bachelor party. Fun. Painful.