Antidisingenuousmentarianism has a comment on the Orhan Pamuk bit on Turkish street food in the New Yorker.
The ad that Pamuk describes reminds me a little of the ad campaign by Hebrew National for kosher hot dogs right before July 4th. Those parachuting cows sound awesome.
(As someone who frequents New Orleans though, i must admit that i never ate a Lucky Dog.)
Damn it. I don't even know a place where i can pick up the New Yorker around here.
Somehow Pamuk turns a piece on simple junk food craving into a meditation on the curse of isolation. I love that lonely bastard.