Poem by Ośunkoya Chavon.
Read MoreAs my mother’s daughter, it’s nearly impossible for me to separate my relationship with food from her influence over it. My appreciation of herbs and spices, the inner peace I get from a well-stocked market, making sport out of trying new fruits and vegetables—I can directly attribute these things to seeing the joy they brought her.
Read MoreHaving needs is part of being alive. We need to sleep, to breathe, to eat. Our needs make us vulnerable; if we spend too long without having our basic needs met, we will die. This urgency makes our needs political. They reflect a power relation between the person with needs and their ability to access necessary resources. We need to consider the implications of putting food into our bellies.
Read MorePoem by Mari Santa Cruz.
Read MoreComfort can be confusing. It is something that we seek out as often as love, safety, and acceptance. Sometimes it is something that we run and take cover inside of when things get too hard. We want to feel protected, like things are okay, or maybe just to avoid confronting things that are too big to deal with.
Read MorePeople facing food insecurity lack the resources they need for adequate physical growth and development. This may mean they can’t consume enough calories, lack nutritional diversity within their diet (e.g. survive mostly on cheap grains), or don’t have access to clean drinking water, sanitation, and healthcare in order to stay healthy.
Read MorePrison food refers to the meals that are served to those incarcerated in correctional institutions. While some correctional facilities do prepare and cook their own meals, most prisons outsource their food from private catering companies, which, over the past several years, have received an increasing number of grievances and lawsuits about inadequate food quality and quantity.
Read MoreAs much as food can bring people together, it can also be one of the most obvious markers of difference between people. And, along the same lines, of hierarchy.
Read MoreI went shopping for gochujang for the first time at 26, and I felt lost. I felt like an imposter. What I really mean is I felt white.
Read MorePoem by Tanagidan To Win (Tara Perron).
Read MoreAbout three months into the pandemic, somewhere between considering a sourdough starter and discovering shallots, I noticed my relationship to food shifting. These days, I’m steps away from my kitchen, where all the rules I have around food have become more apparent than ever.
Read MorePoem by Kristen Jeré.
Read MoreI have low blood pressure. When standing quickly, my head might sway or swim, but I won’t faint. I gaze at my fist from time to time and remember that if I close it and open it steadily that my heart is beating at the same rate.
Read MoreCan all you white recipe developers and food bloggers stop using ‘Asian’ as an adjective for your dishes? This usage is rampant and problematic.
Read MoreClose your eyes and imagine your reflection in a full-length mirror. What do you see?
Read MorePoem by Abigail Lalonde.
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