Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Feast.
Grandma Cookie
Call them turns and a Christmas roll. Extremely customary Danish. How about we begin by taking the zing of a lemon. We will involve that shortly. Be that as it may, in a major bowl for a Kitchenaid machine, we are first going to add some sugar, a few eggs, some mellowed margarine, as well as some cardamom.
By Nashawn Manzano3 years ago in Feast
Chocolate Atole
The wind was roaring, and the snow was blowing white vortices against the pitch black. We lived about 30 miles East of Buffalo, Wyoming, but that winter night it felt like an arctic outpost. I was standing just inside the door of the front porch, and wishing I had had the sense to get the coal while there was at least some light outside.
By Judah LoVato3 years ago in Feast
ROTISSERIE CHICKEN SOUP
Atchoo! Picked up more than the mail at the post office. Guess that does happen. When returning from the post office, forgot to wash my hands. Unfortunately, that was my bad. Because my calendar shows that the only places where my physical being has been were home and the post office. So, it was easy to narrow it down to that location.
By Babs Iverson3 years ago in Feast
Late Night Sweet Potato Pie. Honorable Mention in A Taste of Home Challenge.
My grandfather My grandfather was a well-respected man and a hard-working father of five children. This in turn caused him to be a no-nonsense, gruff, and imposing authoritative figure. I was intimidated by him; thus, I tried to always keep my distance, trying to avoid being the possible center of attention of his wrath and judgment. He always seemed angry, and his words- which were always negative in nature, quite frankly, stung.
By Esmoore Shurpit3 years ago in Feast
And A Little Love
When my stepdad passed away by suicide, I gained twenty pounds. From grief and stress, and also from the countless dishes dropped at our door. In the aftermath of the funeral, as my mom and I temporarily moved into my grandma's house, food followed. A truth well-known is that people will rally around you in a time of need, and one way they know they can help while still leaving room to grieve is by providing meals.
By Raine Neal3 years ago in Feast
Oh Pie Goodness!
It was my birthday. My 21st birthday, actually. I didn’t want a big celebration – my family took me out for a meal at a restaurant the night before, the Beefeater. It was nice, the food was great, and my boyfriend came too, of course. We’d been together over 2 years at that point, so of course he comes along for family celebrations. For the purposes of this story, I’ll call him Theo (not his real name).
By Maddy Haywood3 years ago in Feast
Marrakesh
It was my third visit to Marrakesh, and I was not unfamiliar with the city, despite the quarter century which separated the first from the last of those visits. That’s the thing about ancient cities – they don’t change all that quickly, not in the parts that pull the tourists in, anyway. My first visit was part of a larger backpacking journey through Morocco. This was back when my back was strong of course. My best friend and I, at the dawn of our twenties, travelled the country by bus and train, carrying our worlds on our backs and relishing the soreness of our shoulders and the fatigue in our legs. I ate so much amazing food on that trip. My favourite, still my favourite, was a piping hot vegetable tagine, the oil still bubbling in the clay dish and the vegetables, alive with aromatic spices, as tender as a perfect pear. Or perhaps the fresh mint tea, served from high above the gold trimmed glasses in a steaming gurgle of water, the insane sweetness of the sugar lacing the improbable coolness of the mint. I have recreated this at home with several varieties of mint grown in pots in my garden, but in the same way that Mediterranean light lends everything a clarity more northern latitudes cannot emulate, the tea I brew at home falls flat in comparison.
By Hannah Moore3 years ago in Feast
Funeral Potatoes
Red plastic on the tables in a school gym, my baby cousin in a pink tutu and cowgirl boots running around with the other kids. Photos in the hallway in frames sat on lace cloths. Ceramic blue jays. People whispering in corners. Clinking in the kitchen off to the side.
By S. C. Almanzar3 years ago in Feast
Soup For Life
I love soup. I love eating soup and I love making it. I feel like a witch, working at her couldron when I make soups. Ever since I was a kid, I would have at least 5 bowls of soup. I would eat it until it felt like my belly would burst. I still do, but usually 2-3 bowls of soup is enough to get me belly-bursting full.
By Samantha J.3 years ago in Feast
