Each year, memories fly out of these treasures like dust motes in the light and gently come to rest on me.
Gumbo is a family treasure, seashells elicit childhood memories, and these napkin rings made with shells we found 40 years ago bring echoes of the past into the now.
A poem by Gordon Parks speaks of curiosity, wonder, celebration of life and nature, and the awesome, simple, dead-on-target mindfulness of children.
I have hundreds of cookbooks. Literally. It’s Mom’s Fault (thanks, Mom!) I’m a cookbook collector, or maybe even a cookbook pack rat. It might be a bit of a sickness. I’ve tried to slow it down, but for a while there, I was on a […]
My dad was born 80 years ago today in West Texas as the Great Depression was coming to an end in the shadow of another Great War in Europe, a time before regular Americans realized we’d be involved in that war. With that backdrop and […]
For people like me, there’s a sense of loss from the abrupt ending of Anthony Bourdain’s huge contribution to the canons of travel, food and cultural understanding, and a reluctant but absolutely unavoidable comparison to our own unwelcome experiences with the savage, raw, rollercoaster aftermath of suicide.