Chewing has become exhausting. I wish I had understood that decades ago when I made soup for my father.
Dining tables are more than surfaces for eating. They are vessels for living. They hold us together as families. They represent nourishment, community, and possibility.
So much of who I am and what I love was shaped by my time on Grama Baird’s farm. Technically no longer hers, by then it was owned and operated by her grandson, Mick, who lived with his family across the field. And technically… Continue Reading “A Home-cooked Meal”
Two recipes I learned years ago from my (then) Italian mother-in-law are a staples of my diet during Covid19 quarantine in Sicily.