Nadav Spiegelman

The Rules Do Not Apply

Ariel Levy
My last highlight
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My Highlights

There is nothing I love more than traveling to a place where I know nobody, and where everything will be a surprise, and then writing about it.
In the house where I grew up, in clean, leafy Westchester, nothing was artificially colored. Hot dogs were verboten. It wasn’t spartan: There were always apples and bananas in a blue bowl; there were Cheddar and Jarlsberg in the cheese drawer. There were all the ingredients you needed to make white bean soup from the Moosewood Cookbook. For a time, I think my mother really believed in right living through tofu.
As far as I could tell, there were two modes of cooking: festive and obligatory.
I had a brief but vocal flirtation with vegetarianism.
For years, I would resent that Lucy had chosen not to hear me when I told her—from the very beginning!—that I did not really value monogamy. Eventually, it would occur to me that I had chosen not to hear that it was important to her.
Matt was always pleased if I could identify Sarah Vaughan’s voice on a song—he told me that when people say, “It sounds like Ella,” it means they know nothing, they are basically saying, “It tastes like chicken.”
there is still a coruscating light in me,