Three months in New York, and Cara’s been jonesing for a shrimp poboy. It’s not something I’ve ever attempted to make — not a big fan of frying in small New York apartments — and I warned her repeatedly that to seek out such a thing in New York will lead only to disappointment and anger, a frustration borne out of the human ability to get something so easy so wrong.
But a craving is a craving.
Continue reading “Shrimp Po-Boy: You’re Doing It Wrong”
KEN WHEATON 