Eating Your Feeling

Believe it or not, Thanksgiving is almost here, and that son of a bitch snuck up quick. It’s amazing how the past two years have been simultaneously the longest and shortest years I’ve ever experienced. How it can possibly be almost December I have no idea, but there’s a part of me that refuses to

On Food and Time Travel

It’s a well-worn adage that nothing ever tastes quite like mom’s cooking. With just the smell of mom’s spaghetti sauce, I shrug off the years and return once more to our townhouse in Dublin, eating heaps of pasta slathered with red sauce and liberally carpeted with freshly-shaved Romano (‘cause we fancy). Perhaps we’re in the