Tag: Food Column

Chino, California is best known as the hometown of Ryan from The O.C., or perhaps as the agricultural area responsible for the pleasant smell of fertilizers (reminiscent of Limburger cheese) to which Claremont students wake up approximately once a month. Although the town is a mere 15-minute drive south down

While abroad in Europe last spring, I was fortunate to eat my way through many of the continent’s grand capital cities, which just so happen to be some of the world’s premier gastronomic destinations. Nothing can beat a few tapas and the Prado in Madrid, gelato and the Colosseum in

Across the country, the reddening foliage signals the beginning of autumn, the waning days before months of snowfall, and the commencement of that time when each month requires yet another layer of clothing to protect against fall’s crispness and winter’s biting winds. Yet here in sunny SoCal autumn is, well,

Sandwiched between Honduras and Costa Rica, halfway between the southern tip of Mexico and the northernmost point of Colombia in South America, Nicaragua is smack-dab in the middle of Central America. However, to find a restaurant in the L.A. area that specializes in the cuisine of Nicaragua, diners have to

The Buffalo Inn sits along historic Route 66, that magnificent stretch of road now known as Foothill Boulevard, just beyond the eastern border of L.A. County. Located in the ever-so-scenic town of Upland, it’s actually as close to the 5Cs miles-wise as the Claremont Village. Yet there’s just nothing sexy

I turned 21 while abroad in France, so, having enjoyed lenient European drinking laws for months beforehand, my monumental birthday leap into the bar world wasn’t that special. The real moment I realized I had come of age was the final night of August, my first night in Claremont this

Every day—whether it’s in class, at a café, or walking through one of Paris’s spectacular gardens—someone in my study abroad program inevitably poses the question: How do Parisians stay so fit? It is an excellent question, since food is the lifeline of this city like freeways are to Los Angeles.

As I will be spending the next few months eating croissants and brie in a small town called Paris that knows a little about food, I have been thinking about what I consider my favorite part of the Los Angeles dining scene. In a day and age characterized by Wal-Mart

I never order chicken at a restaurant—ever. It’s always the same boring bird marinated in various herbs with a spritz of lemon juice, and it spends far too long spinning in the rotisserie, sucking out all the juices the chicken originally had. Until recently, I had only eaten four versions

I first heard about La Piccoletta from a good friend who always takes his girlfriend there for Valentine’s Day dinner. For a city of somewhat small size, Claremont has a surprisingly large number of Italian restaurants, yet I had never heard of this place after more than a semester of