~By Kate H. Knapp My fascination with refrigerators began long before I can even remember. While Santa was delivering Barbies and My Little Ponies to my other seven-year-old friends, I received a working mini fridge that was the perfect addition to my playtime kitchen. It kept my plastic veggies and fruits ever so crisp and…
Category: Traditions
Wake Up and Smell the Kimchi
~By Kate Sitarz Learning to yield chopsticks with (some) refinement took around 2 months 5 days, or about 7 meals’ worth of dropped bulgolgi with a side of soy-stained ego. Developing a keenness for kimchi involved innumerable obnoxious grimaces and a forced taste bud evolution. Getting over kimchi breath required 3 packs of gum, a…
Craving Confit
~By Kate H. Knapp I crave duck like a newborn craves his/her mother’s milk. This need has gone beyond a simple pleasure and has now become a necessity. If duck is on the menu, in any form—confit, crispy, a l’orange, foie gras, shredded, you name it—I will undoubtedly do a little dance and order it…
Requiem for Raspberries
~By Marissa Neiderhauser It is a memory so old and familiar that it is not really a memory at all. I don’t actually remember picking or eating raspberries with my grandmother. I just know that raspberries are forever inextricably linked with her. Seeing them in the store, hearing them mentioned, running the tip of my tongue along their…
What a Wiener
~By Katie Blais When I was twelve, I decided to become a vegetarian. At the time my brother, who is six years older than me, was dating Kate, a tall, willowy gal, who not only shared my namesake but always let me tag along with her and my brother—much to his chagrin of course. I…
A Memorable Feast 