In Saigon, I closely studied the flavors of Vietnam. I came to love the sticky rice that purposefully clumps together instead of standing apart. I came to know the perfume of anise-scented basil. I pledged, again, my devotion to the pleasant cloy of cilantro. More.
Dressed in jeans and a red t-shirt, his hair tousled, his Vandyke trimmed, his eyes bright and earnest behind a pair of mod glasses, Bayless looks and sounds like a waylaid doctoral candidate, still enthralled by his research. More.