I am a Southerner in the City, an aging debutante, a small town girl cursed with big city aspirations. My grandfather says that I’m at the cusp of feminine failure—I’m as old as a bottle of prime Tennessee whiskey (aged 25 years) and still single. I need to “get on home” and find a nice Southern boy—a doctor, maybe an insurance salesman. At this, I dig in my heels and set out to date every inappropriate man in Manhattan…
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
The New Power Lunch
The Big Apple can be brutal for a working belle with an appetite.
There’s no time for a hot meal and the hotdog cart on Broadway and Canal is notcalling my name. What to do?
Five years in New York City and I’ve finally learned the art of portable lunches packed with protein. Think golden roasted chicken tucked into a sliced baguette, a sliver of basil & mint frittata… Don’t think you can do it ? Check out “The New Power Lunch!”
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