New York
It's no secret the five boroughs of New York are more intense rivals than loving siblings. They often have to compete for attention and funds from the city. And the favoured older son, Manhattan, is always resented by the others. But sometimes the outer boroughs have surprisingly thin skin, betraying deep insecurities.
Earlier this month, James Molinaro, Staten Island's borough president, carried a letter on his website urging residents to boycott a flavour specially designed for the borough by 5 Boroughs Ice Cream. He did not object to the taste - brownie, fudge, cherry and crunch fused in a vanilla base - but rather the name, 'Staten Island Landfill', which he said was 'insulting and derogatory'.
The name takes its cue from a history many people would prefer to forget. Until 2001, Staten Island was the site of the world's largest landfill - the dumping ground for a lot of the city's rubbish for a half century. The garbage mounds at Fresh Kills - a name that hardly adds to the appeal but is actually derived from the Dutch for fresh stream - sprawled across 890 hectares and rose 68 metres, making them taller than the Statue of Liberty and visible from outer space.
For the generation that grew up on the island in the second half of the last century, the landfill could not be ignored, especially the odour.
'It was so bad. Even if you had double layered windows, it still seeped in. It's just like you were living in a garbage bin,' said Mary O'Neal, a 22-year resident.
But decades of efforts by elected officials and residents, plus several tough court battles, buried the landfill more than 4 metres under the soil. It is now sealed in unleakable material under the ground, and eulogised by former mayor Rudolph Giuliani: 'Fresh Kills is history. It's dead, dead, gone.'