The Measure of a Meal

~By Heather Ray My daddy is a good cook, the kind who remembers all the ingredients and measures by instinct: another touch of brown sugar or yellow mustard or chili powder to perfect his irresistible caramelized sloppy joe, prepared for a family of four with “oh, about a pound and a half? of ground beef.”…

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…

Remembrance of Meals Past

~By Christine Sarkis Everyone has at least one superpower. I have been blessed with two: the knack of identifying a song by its first three bars, and the ability to remember everything I have ever eaten. It’s a silly trick, but one that is at the heart of my lifelong devotion to the anticipation, taste,…

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…

Maple Syrup, $50; A Sunday Tradition, Priceless

~By Sarah Pascarella It’s funny how people determine what’s worth a good splurge, especially when it comes to food. In my house, most groceries were strictly no-nonsense. Nutritious, natural, nothing too fancy–these were the staples of our pantry. We clipped coupons and took advantage of weekly sales to make sure our grocery dollars went far….

In the summertime…

~By Katie Blais A bulk of my childhood summers were spent at the Swedish Social Club … a men’s club that my grandfather and dad belonged to … it was this huge old building on a lake that turned into a playground for my brother and my cousins and me on those hot summer days. …

The Healing Powers of Soup

~By Kate H. Knapp If I could go back in time and impart one piece of wisdom to my younger self, it would be to appreciate the soup. Granted, I’ve learned plenty that could benefit the immature me, plus things that would redefine many of the mistakes I have made since those days of youth….