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It had a mind of its own. I served it to people and it killed them. Let me explain. Long ago, when I was a boy, my father made a special soup to serve people. It was an instant success. He called it “the magical soup” and would never shareContinue Reading

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Now that I’m rich, I buy broccoli rabe by the bunch,no matter what the price. Same for escarole, Swisschard, organic spinach, avocadoes, artichokes. My grandmother pored through the binof discarded vegetables, haggled to get themfree, picked off decomposing leaves, and cooked.Would she celebrate that I still prepare the foods ofContinue Reading

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I need recipes for exotic dishes –things they never dreamed of inmy ancestors’ hometown of Fly, Ohio. What about Lost Sister Soup –some strange mixture of bone broth,spring greens, mushroomsforaged in faraway hills,and salt pure as baby’s blood? I want a meat pie, its fillingthe color of Phoenix feathers,crust theContinue Reading

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What is time, and what is it made of?Butter? Water? Sand?No matter. It doesn’t matter really. What was then is also now, and not just in my brain where timelines like to blend together and make my world confusing, but in actuality, too, if you believe in certain theories.There areContinue Reading