Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Feast.
Three Times a Day
“You have to show them you are making an effort,” I said through clenched teeth, the sweet potato coating my mouth with carbs. “I know it’s hard, and I’d like to say it gets easier, but I’ve been here for over two months now and have done this three times a day...I’m still struggling.” I shrugged, no use in sugar coating it for the newbies. “What’s your name?” I asked, trying to distract her from the task at hand-cleaning her plate. “Mel,” she answered, but I knew that look. It was the look of horror and nothing I said at this point was going to help poor Mel in completing her gambit. I turned to Francesca and Char in hopes of some sort of conversation; the truth was I was the one who needed distraction. If I could talk and eat at the same time, I could usually manage to not think about the fat, carbs, sugar and calories taking over my body with every mouthful of this torture we called sharing a meal. Francesca was looking a bit pale, I noticed as she glared vehemently at the sweet potato in front of her, the last obstacle on her plate. I was a bit jealous; she had already finished the chicken breast and broccolini. “That’s why I start with the hardest part first,” I joked, motioning to my half eaten spud. Char chimed in with a peppy “Me too!” and Francesca joined Mel on team silence and horror. I shrugged at Char and took another bite. “Are you ready for group session?” She asked, chewing. “Not like we have much of a choice”, I answered, trying to push the conversation along as I took mouthful number four of orange goop; “Looks like we have two new people today, so it should be interesting at least.” I glanced over at Mel, still in shock, and the other newcomer sitting alone at the end of the long cafeteria table we were all forced to eat at. A guy. He was the only one. He was actually the only one I had seen since arriving here. I decided to pick up my plate and head towards him, in selfish hopes of striking up a conversation that lasted long enough to finish my meal.
By Jess A. Smith5 years ago in Feast
An Introduction to White Trash Cooking
In the Mojave desert, my father is spreading warm peanut butter on a slice of wonderbread. It is our first solo camping trip since the divorce, and he is attempting to make things seem as normal as possible. He slathers grape jelly on another slice of bread, winking at me.
By Katie Alafdal5 years ago in Feast
Ale and Beer
Ales and Beer Driving back from Florence to our self catering cottage in Tuscany, we stopped at a random restaurant alongside the road between towns and had a wonderful multi-course Florentine style Italian meal. In Cefalu, Sicily, we went to a restaurant with the hosts of our self catering apartment and had artichokes served in a half dozen different ways. At another Cefalu restaurant we had our first arancinis.
By Cleve Taylor 5 years ago in Feast
Nigerian fried plantains and scrambled eggs in Vancouver
Back at home, meals like fried plantains — a sickly-sweet dish of deep fried plantains that is typically served with scrambled eggs — were common, especially for lunch or dinner. There was obviously a fair mix of more Western options in our daily food choices, but cultural food was never set aside because there’s nothing more special than partaking in and enjoying one’s cultural heritage.
By Jane Diokpo5 years ago in Feast
The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach
Christmas with no snow. Gotta blame it to Climate change, or maybe I got used to the cold winters here. The ‘white Christmas’ wasn’t white this time! A horror for many. For me it was perfect. Cold as usual. No snow. Minus the usual greenery, all looked grey. Pine trees were the only ones endured enough to accept the low temperatures, sleet and freezing rain.
By Chacha Jaramillo5 years ago in Feast
The nachos that almost cost me my freedom
More than ever, this pandemic has ingrained within me the need to regularly take stock of the wonderful opportunities that have been afforded to me throughout my life. As a student almost fifteen years ago, a gap year opened up a door that I’ve never quite managed to close for good. In fact, this gap year decided for me that I’d devote my life to travelling and give up my university place and career in law.
By Kate Simmonds5 years ago in Feast
