“You’re not from the city, are you?” a woman asks me over the rhythm of Hindu chanting in a candlelit room.
Enduring, traditional, practical. By its very definition, the word classic defies the fleeting fancies of fashion, a realm driven by ever-changing and often recycled trends.
In his 40 years as an angler, Rick Schair has battled marlin, bluefin tuna, and numerous other trophy fish, but none of those finned adversaries was as ferocious as the peacock bass.
“So Boudreaux and Thibodeaux were neighbors down in the parish,” begins Eric Kaspar in that lilting, singsongy way folks have of speaking down heah in Louisiana.
The South Carolina low country, a pristine region of tidal creeks and serpentine rivers, mansions and marsh grass, provides some of the finest golfing grounds in the country.
The months of August, September, and October are considered the season of birth and renewal at Maroma Bay, on Mexico’s Riviera Maya, because this is the time of year when giant green sea turtles
when he speaks of the talent possessed by sculptor Rembrandt Bugatti, Edward Horswell’s tone of voice reveals his awe.
For Paul Garmirian’s taste, the term vintage is used too liberally by many of his fellow cigar makers.
The Ardbeg warehouse was dark and musty, the air thick with the yeasty odors of aging whisky.
Discreetly tucked within the 27-page wine list of the Ritz-Carlton Laguna Niguel’s Dining Room is perhaps the ultimate blended red wine.