Breaking Bad meets Breaking Balsamic

After spending a mere day in Modena Italy making traditional balsamic vinegar, I not only fell in love with traditional balsamic and the entire process that goes into its perfection, but also in love with an Italian family and their story. Their devotion to the purity of traditional balsamic and the stark contrast between traditional balsamic that comes from the …

Traditional Balsamic Vinegar Making in Modena Italy: the Balsamic Cook

Just so we are clear: I love balsamic vinegar.  In absolute terms.  No pre-nup necessary. Americans in general have sort of a silent love affair with this Italian concoction. We indiscriminately douse it on top of our olive oil and dip our little bread it at Italian restaurants and spatter it all over our salads until the leafy greens are …

Schools out for Summer: Teaching English to Prostitutes in Brazil

So now that I am back on that sweet writing tit once more, I decided, what should I be writing about? Jobs? Check Failing at those jobs? Double-check. Other random musings? Ta-dow. Put the tip in baby. So now that I have decided on the ‘what’, let’s get down to some realness and tag team the ‘why’ and the ‘how’. …

Why I Love & Hate Brazil

Originally and the feeling of one’s dignity are achieved only through work and struggle – Dostoyevsky Don’t be a lazy sac of shit – Turner Barr Okay, Okay. I am must apologize to you all. It has been a crazy couple months in thong/samba land aka Brazil. I normally am not this lazy in the writing and video department but …

English 101: Teaching Prostitutes English in Brazil

So my good friend, roommate and co-conspirator – Niall Doherty, was throwing out some interesting job suggestions that I could do whilst I am living here in Brazil. One of these suggestions was to do something very special for the World Cup. If you happen to have eyeballs, no doubt you have seen a bit of controversy spattered all over …

When Teaching Prostitutes in Brazil goes Wrong…

Public Service Announcement: Wallstreet Whiskey, when a simple palm to the face just won’t do.   Yeah – I don’t know the label but it was the only whiskey I could get my hands on to drain my sorrows. I messed up, which I guess isn’t to be unexpected, but my miscalculation cost me the prestigious job of teaching English …