NRPLUS MEMBER ARTICLE T he Jackson Heights neighborhood of Queens is typically my thoroughfare, a point “B” between my home and LaGuardia Airport. It’s where I’ve stood with my luggage dozens of times while waiting for the shuttle at the stop sandwiched between a Korean bakery and a Colombian one. My interest in the area was never particularly piqued until I remembered that this time last year, I was mourning the death of Anthony Bourdain.
Food played a critical role in my family’s life; my mother’s meals have conciliatory effects similar to the 1914 Christmas truce. I found kinship with Bourdain in the idea that …
Something to Consider
If you enjoyed this article, we have a proposition for you: Join NRPLUS. Members get all of our content (including the magazine), no paywalls or content meters, an advertising-minimal experience, and unique access to our writers and editors (through conference calls, social media groups, and more). And importantly, NRPLUS members help keep NR going.