At midnight on all the other New Years her mother would usually get out some really nice paper, the kind with real bits of flower petal mixed in with its texture, and give her and her father two pieces each. They would each [...] write their wishes and hopes for the new year on to…
I had such high hopes for December. It was the month when I was going to sit down and compose blog post upon blog post. I was going to write about the Grand Canyon and New Mexico and finally share my favorite pizza recipe (it's got a Berkeley flair to it), as well as all…
Noon dominated sea and sky--even the white line of Cannes, five miles off, had faded to a mirage of what was fresh and cool; a robin-breasted sailing boat pulled in behind it a strand from the outer, darker sea. It seemed that there was no life anywhere in all this expanse of coast except under…
The stuffing was pleasantly salty, flecked with celery and onion and rich with the flavor of broth. It was, in short, exactly as I remembered it. I told my grandmother just that, letting her know that I had missed these flavors during our Thanksgivings apart. Never mind that I could have made her stuffing myself;…
Dining with Dostoevsky 