Whole Foods is the safest place on earth. What would the terrorists come for? The organic ice-cream? The dinky doughnuts, perhaps, were worth killing for. Imagine, a rainbow of kombucha and salad and bamboo leaf shampoo, with artisanal cheese for taste, shattering outwards, like the first sigh of relief after a breakup.
sliced onions fried with miris and sugar
spotted with chili seeds
creating fire within my tummy
the spicy seeni sambol wrapped in
soft crunchy appa remind
my taste buds that they are alive
Read the first instalment of our new Haiku column!
Jollibee is more than just a Filipino fast food chain. It is to me what McDonald’s is to many of my friends from other places—a staple. I have known Jollibee, both the chain and the mascot, since I could barely eat solid food. I’ve attended birthday parties, caught up with family and friends, and reflected on my personal growth with Jollibee. This bee might even have brought me closer to God…
You look sexy behind that counter of cold, packed meat,
6 to12 inches of wheat and white bread.
I watch your lips move as you
Ask if I want mayonnaise, mustard
On the foot-long turkey.
Garlic, heavy salty bone broth, steaming pasta-like galnish and tender lamb: the way to any Chechen’s heart. Nothing feels more like home than galnish heaped high onto plates, with thick broth served in earthy mugs on the side.
and for you, i am tender –
bruised grape lip
bitten. mind on heart; junebug
The bacon sizzles in a silver pot on a spiral top that burns
To a tangerine orange beneath sweet cabbage.
Turn that stove down low, boy!
A triptych on meat and markets in Nigeria.
Purchased her cheaply at the Food Emporium last night.
Freezer door ajar.
Dig past thighs of chicken,
bottle of Vodka,
to get to her.
A look inside Parisian painter Sandra Paris’ notebook of food sketches and observations.
We put on our aprons and pick up the knives
Peel off the skin from the root of the problem
Chop up the large questions into roughly diced answers
won’t have it any other way.
Between two unfeeling pieces of bread,
Stuck in mayo like tires stuck in mud,
Smeared onto mustard.
A photo series that begs for a closer look at life’s sweetness – and the cost at which it comes.
The idea of living on a farm with fresh eggs and pasture-raised chickens seemed so romantic, so ethically responsible. Like the lotto commercials, it was our ticket to dream. Eight years ago, my husband and I left the city to try and create our fantasy …
back when Grandmother had one breast and i had none
she helped me realize strange visions,
the particulars only a child conjured.
i asked for a birthday pie shaped like a fish
TV Dinner is a modern symbol/icon of the often oppressive constraints of gender roles and life as a housewife in the 1950s.
My Aunt Earline is heaven.
Could teach them bakers at Piccadilly’s a thing or two.
She’s as sweet as the cakes she makes.