“You must know a lot about Southern cooking.” Chef David’s voice came cracking across the miles, over the Green Mountains, through an iffy cellular connection that tied me to him, from the Upper Valley all the way down to the Southwest corner of the state. I barely knew him at the time, but we clocked … Continue reading A Food Memory: Do You Cook with Your Kids?
But millions of people in America’s mid-Atlantic will forever think of her first and foremost as a hurricane, of course. “Aren’t you glad you came down in July?” went my sister’s text at a moment when she was still paying close attention to weather and assessing the threat to her South Carolina home, considering staying … Continue reading Journal Entry: Florence Is an Italian City
And the days grow notably shorter. It had to happen eventually, I suppose. But the poison parsnip is dead, and good riddance to it. “I don’t suppose your leaves have started turning yet,” mused my dad at the other end of a cell phone connection about a week ago. “No,” I said, “but just last … Continue reading Journal Entry: The Earth Grows Restless and Begins to Shift
“Are those…baked beans…on my kitchen ceiling, Grandmother?” It was my mom’s perturbed voice. You could also tell when she was perturbed by how she called somebody. Granny Grace—my great grandmother—was always just Granny, or maybe occasionally Gracie, but ‘Grandmother’ was the moniker mom used when Gracie did something vexing. Come to think of it, Gracie … Continue reading Family Story: Baked Beans on the Ceiling