Alison Cook

To bite or be bitten: The classic Darwinian drama raged throughout our fair city in 1997, a year in which strange eating behaviors -- just ask Evander Holyfield -- made for an entertaining (if slightly indigestible) feast. Even our beloved new boo...

The Politically Undead Boy, what a little un-redistricting can dig up! Suddenly, the landscape was crawling with zombie-like forms we thought we'd laid to rest -- Gene Fontenot, los Hotzes, Beverley Clark, Dolly McKenna. Even that not-so-grande da...

According to the Chinese lunar calendar, it was 4694 -- the Year of the Rat. Our own fair city's rodents celebrated with inventively rattish behavior as we slouched toward the millennium: Between Thelma and Louise, Warren and Felicia, Bud and Dray...

The tattered strip center at Richmond and Woodhead divulges few clues that inside, a Montrose institution is aborning. First you notice that cars often throttle the parking lot in front of a Spartan corner grocery and faceless taqueria. Then you b...

Random Thought: It never fails to amuse me how a restaurant can underwhelm me on the food front and still manage to endear itself. Tutto Bene in the Heights -- oh, okay all you jingoists, in the obscure Old West End -- is a prime example. The many...

Flipped inside out of its shell, and scored to unfold like a chrysanthemum, the two-pound Australian lobster tail looked as if it were not entirely of this earth. And it wasn't. "It's $69.95," murmured the waiter at Lynn's Steakhouse, presenting h...