Love letters to food & family
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I grew up in food-obsessed family. We ate by the seasons from my mom’s huge vegetable garden in the rolling hills of Western Massachusetts. In spring there were goat cheese and sorrel tarts and compote from the stalks of wild rhubarb that grew in the fields around our house. In summer, we picked currants and gooseberries until our fingers stained and our mouths puckered from the sour-sweetness. Read More…
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