A Memorable Feast

Love As Licorice

~By Carl Unger There are two things about me you should know: I love my wife, and I loathe licorice. The former is a simple enough truth-she’s smart, funny and kind, the bee’s knees all around-but the latter is a more complex matter. My hatred for licorice is so pure, so raw, that the barest…

The Case Against Melon: A Polemic

~By Sarah Pascarella Let me say this upfront: I am not a picky eater. There are very few dishes I won’t try, and most foods are welcome on my plate (or in my bowl, as it were). But there is one fruit I cannot abide: melon, in all its forms. What is it about this…

Don’t Mess With Perf-Egg-tion

~By Emily Workman My Mother’s family, the Jorgensen’s, had very structured guidelines about holiday traditions. For instance, they always went on a picnic and rolled hardboiled eggs down the steep hills of Logan Canyon on Easter. In observation of this particular tradition, my Alaskan family and I have ended up shivering inside a car, looking…

My Grandmother’s Little Slice of Heaven

~By Kate H. Knapp When the air outside gets chilly and the leaves begin to turn shades of red and gold, I start to crave the plump and gooey cinnamon rolls my grandmother used to make. Just a whiff of spicy cinnamon, and I am six years old again kneeling on a stool in my…

Better Than a Star Rating

~By Sarah Pascarella My family is inventive, both with words and ingredients. Traditions get passed down through our own created lexicon and recipes. When my Italian-Irish father makes spaghetti sauce, it’s Nana’s recipe. When my Polish-Irish-German mother makes potato soup, it’s my grandfather’s special concoction. Some of my favorite dishes to prepare now, as an…