It’s Valentine’s weekend, the Horseshoe Bay ferry terminal is choked full of exhausted island travelers grimly thumbing through their neglected emails. The tension in the airless, reeking waiting room is so thick with worry that you could slice some off and sauté it. Two ferries have been canceled thanks to the hurricane currently pounding on the windows, and the lady with the tinkly voice on the intercom says it’s possible no-one will be returning to the island tonight… And yet, my wife and I are in pretty good spirits. Read More
Food has always been intrinsically tied to memory in my mind. I, for whatever reason, tend to recall good eats very clearly and use those moments almost like landmarks in the warped geography of my memories. People who share in my passion for food, who sit at the same table during a great meal, or go on food-related adventures with me get etched in my memories pretty deeply. This goes for people I cook with every day as well as with people I spent sporadic bits of time with… Like my Uncle Wayne.