Archive | Prose RSS feed for this section
exploding_green_juice_in_blender_-_104822058-1__medium_4x3

‘The Shame of Health’ by Maggie Wells

The Shame of Health “Let’s just get rid of it. Let’s just take the whole thing out.” “I don’t want to remove any body parts.” “Well, you got three options: One, you get a hysterectomy. Problem solved. Two, you get pregnant as soon as possible. And three, you get Lupron shots. If you were my […]

Continue Reading
Crispy-Squid-Tentacles-Wide

‘This Defiant Food’ by Susie Arnett

I spent my first 9 months marinating in the spicy, Korean blood that circulated through my mother’s womb. She ate a lot of kimchee while she was pregnant with me. Kimchee is a fiery, pickled cabbage that is the Korean equivalent of french fries. After I was born, my parents moved to America to set […]

Continue Reading
Ghost_Peppers_4

‘Ghost Pepper’ by Joshua Rupp

  Last year I ate a ghost pepper. It was hot. I can’t really complain, because I knew it was a mistake at the time. Some people have to touch the electric fence. Others go to exotic grocery stores and ruin their lives. It’s the same principle. If I hadn’t eaten the ghost pepper, I […]

Continue Reading
CSA_logo

October Market Report by Stacey Harwood-Lehman

In Ithaca, New York, where I spend most summers and holidays, one can pick from among several Community Supported Agriculture projects. You pay in advance for a “share,” and each week of the growing season you receive a bag or box of whatever local produce happens to be ripe and ready. This economic model provides a […]

Continue Reading
rabbit-3

‘You Will Eat It,’ by Lori Lynn Turner

  Early summer before I turned nine, my father took me to the edge of our property in rural Washington State and positioned a rifle in my arms, pushed the nose of the gun toward the bluff that looked out over the Straits of Juan de Fuca, a stretch of water with a first, middle […]

Continue Reading
<a href="http://sexualobjectification.blogspot.com/2014/04/immanuel-kant-and-objects-of-appetite.html">source</a>

‘The Long Distances Between Food and Mouth’ by Seth Brady Tucker

I’ll be the first to admit it:  I love foods that are ethically indefensible.  I love fois gras.  I will eat a full plate of sweetbreads, suck marrow from the bone of a Osso Bucco.  My favorite sushi is Bluefin tuna. I love me some veal.  Which is a difficult habit to maintain considering the […]

Continue Reading
<a href="http://www.lostwitch.com/2010/01/stories-of-hands.html">source</a>

‘Anything But Sweet’ by Danielle Chin

  When I was a child, I watched my grandmother gently press black dough between her fingers, forming miniature dogs, pandas, and bunnies. Swiftly, Paw Paw molded the snout of the dog, the slightly hunched back of the sitting panda, and the attentive ears of the bunny. She didn’t miss a detail. Using my small, […]

Continue Reading
Florida_Box_Turtle_Digon3_re-edited

‘Grandma’s Turtle Soup’ by Danielle Chin

I was four-years-old when I killed a turtle. Paw Paw wanted to make soup. “It will make Hing Hing strong,” my maternal grandmother said in Cantonese. “Learn from me.” Everything she said had an assertive tone, as if she had lived and knew it. She would remind Mom that yams and dried orange skin soothed […]

Continue Reading
<a href="https://nobacon.wordpress.com">source</a>

‘The Moosewood Generation’ by Deborah Bacharach

The Moosewood Generation It was hard to be a progressive lefty in the mid-eighties. We wanted to live simply so others could simply live. We wanted our food natural and authentic, but there weren’t many hippy guides around. Moosewood came to save us. The Moosewood Cookbook (1977) and its sequel, The Enchanted Broccoli Forest (1985) […]

Continue Reading
<a href="https://www.liveauctioneers.com/item/532130">source</a>

‘Autobiography in Victuals’ by Alison Powell

My grandmother made a special stuffing on Thanksgiving: gizzards, stale bread and pearl onions baked to the consistency of pudding. She made it annually in a small kitchen that smelled of cigarettes. A cuckoo clock jutted out from the wall, and each hour the little bird appeared and the chimes rang. My grandmother was stout […]

Continue Reading