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Travel Bug: A Journey of Culture and Cuisine in My Own Backyard

It’s a quiet Sunday morning in the city, but down a narrow alleyway a bustling courtyard is filling up with patrons sitting at round tables with sun-shielding umbrellas. A busy…

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On Grammar, Grandmothers, and Games

When I was studying French in Paris, my professor—call him Monsieur L.—would sometimes dolefully shake his head, stare out the window, and sigh, “Oh, grandmother.” I wasn’t sure why he…

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