I made Half Baked Harvest’s Everything Bagel Salad for dinner a couple of weeks ago, and I’m still thinking about it. It’s everything I want in a dinner salad: Fast. Filling. And made with ingredients I generally have on hand all year long.
Read MoreMost of the time, I read the news and want to scream at the top of my lungs: “What is wrong with you?!” Most of the time, I refrain. Because screaming at people who can’t hear you doesn’t work.
Read MoreSometimes words bubble up in my chest. There’s a tingle. A pressure. Incomprehensible images flash across my eyes. Made more of feeling than light. And sometimes it’s hard to decipher what the words are trying to say.
Read MoreA couple of weeks after my sister and brother-in-law married, they decided it was time for Eggs Benedict. They found a recipe in The Joy of Cooking (original edition), mustered their courage, and set to it. The recipe instructed them to bring the water to a boil and swirl it into a “mad vortex.”
Read MoreHappy Juneteenth! Just before her 90th birthday, Opal Lee decided to walk from Fort Worth, Texas to Washington D.C. to try and get Juneteenth recognized as a national holiday.
Read MoreI’ve felt especially nostalgic lately. Jonathan and I take long walks on empty rural roads each day. We pass raspberry farms and wheat farms and large families playing bocce ball on expansive lawns. I smell the soil. I drift back to extended family gatherings at my grandparents’ and great-grandparents’.
Read MoreMy dad was far from perfect. He was an asshole more often than not in his youth. He beat up other kids. He called people names. He drank his days away. He broke his nose so many times in fights that he had to have a nose job. The cops arrested my dad here and there, but they always released him to his parents without charges. The cops didn’t beat him. They didn’t see him as a threat despite his black belt ranking. They didn’t kill him. He was White.
Read MoreIn seventh grade, I devised what I call my “plate of favorites” instead of a favorite food. It’s a magical dinner plate. A plate that expands to fit all my favorite foods. I can’t choose just one. But the other night, I might have eaten the best thing yet.
Read MoreOur landlord pounded on the front door. So I got up from the dinner table, opened the door, and stood agape as he puffed himself up and screamed at my partner and me. His face reddened and spit-soaked fuck-bombs came flying out of his mouth.
Read MoreI remember the time that feels like the first time my parents left me at my grandparents. I sobbed at the sliding glass door staring as my parents pulled away. Gramma Ebey swooped down and scooped me up. She headed straight to the kitchen.
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