Eat, Darling, Eat 

(by Lisa Cohen) I grew up on a chicken farm in New Jersey, with parents who were a part of the Jewish migration from the city back to the...

(by Laurel DiGangi) Whenever I ate dinner at my paternal grandmother’s home, I secretly wished I was eating my mother’s Polish food...

(by Celeste Miller) In the early 1920s, my maternal grandmother, who had married my grandfather at 17, began traveling from their home in...

(by Lally Pia) I think the sky would fall down if my mother stopped cooking. Let me back up. My parents are Tamils and in the minority...

(by Terri Sutton) My parents’ origin story could have been a Hallmark movie. They met in a textile factory in 1945; World War II loomed...

(by Brigit Binns) Once, I was saved by the sight of some diced carrots. The phone rang on a Tuesday after a three-day weekend: “Your...

(by Lisa S. Greene) “Where’s my knife?” she asks. Mom sits in her wheelchair at the head of the white butcher block table, wearing a...

(by Francesca Costanzo) I was that sensory-sensitive kid, easily awakened just by the sound of my mother opening her tin recipe box. At...

(by Marilyn Strange) As far back as I can remember, my mother hated to cook. She loved food but hated preparing it. She grew up in a...

(by Marcella Cantatore) The day my mum died began like any other. It was a Saturday. She made me breakfast: a soft egg with toast...

(by Julie Cole) A few years ago, my elderly parents traveled from Ohio to my home in Wisconsin. We sat in our sun-filled dining room for...

(by Laney Rosen) The sight of little orange squares was so inviting. One would not imagine such a find to be an actual lifesaver. But you...

(by Natalie Hirt) The knock on the door at 7a.m. was a surprise. Not a pleasant neighborly knock. More of a commanding knock. Perhaps...

(by Pei Ja Anderson) When I think of the meals my mother and I have shared, I am not hit with a wave of culinary nostalgia. There are no...

(by Marcia Weisbrot) Cooking was not a great connection for my mom and me. She always served healthy, nutritious meals, but it wasn’t...

(by Tywanna Gardner) I have a teenage daughter named Rianna. She is a good girl, for the most part, and usually tries to do what she...

(by Patricia Fieldsteel) Great-Grandma Fannie gave lessons on how to properly fart when out strolling with others: “When one needs to...

(by Rita Slanina) I’m the product of four cultures: Italian, Sicilian, Austrian, and Slovak (more precisely, a little-known farming...

(by Aimee Lee Ball) With apologies to T.S. Eliot, August is the cruelest month for me. There’s the heat and humidity, of course, and this...

(by Eileen Vorbach Collins) Sunday dinner was early, around 1 PM. After sitting still through Sunday School and church, I was always in a...