In her later years, M. F. K. Fisher, the prominent mid-twentieth-century American essayist and food writer, once wrote poignantly of missing the ravenous, almost insatiable hunger of youth. Charmingly romantic to read in one’s twenties, it wasn’t so charming to reread years later, when that youthful hunger lingered and fought with a suddenly slowing metabolism of middle age. But there’s nothing charming or romantic about it when old age is staring one square in the face.
The problem is that, while our appetite and capacity may slow down with age, the curious cook’s palate doesn’t slow down with it. Read More
Recipes and Stories
30 May 2017: An Aging Palate, Wild Greens, and the Flavors of Youth
May 30, 2017
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2 April 2012: Poke Sallet
April 2, 2012
Under the deep-green shade of the old camellias in my back yard, one of the quiet miracles of spring is unfolding: a thick, luxurious stand of new-green poke shoots. This lovely wild green, once a defining element of spring’s table for country folk all across the South, is a real piece of Southern lore, and has been turned by popular culture into an object of derision, a symbol of ignorance and raw poverty.
It is none of those things to me. Read More