Feast's food literature from the New York Times or the recesses of online. Our favorite stories showcase foodies.
Grape ice saved summer
Another bead of sweat trailed down my spine. The white noise of the useless, rotating fan whirred in the background, pushing hot air from one side of the room to the other like an endless game of tennis. Spoiler–nobody won.
Red stained fingertips
My grandparents had a large vegetable garden when I was a kid. Potatoes, lettuce, rhubarb. Trees overflowing with apples and cherries. I remember the branches of the cherry tree crawling up over the house, stretching out and reaching up over the little patch of roof in the corner covering me and my sister in our beds inside. I still remember lying in bed at night hearing the ripe cherries falling off of the tree and hitting the roof.
Late Night Toast
Growing up, I struggled to make friends. The Locals in my hometown were set in their ways, and there was no changing it. Being a more open-minded child made me sort of a social outcast. But, I had one friend I could rally on to be there for me no matter what, my grandfather Doc. My grandfather was a great man. He was always there for me, no matter what. He was also very ill with kidney failure. A concept I didn’t quite understand until I was much older. Because he was so sick, he had to take an array of medications at various times of the day and night. Every summer, I would spend two weeks with him in July. Maybe more, depending on my mother’s summer plans. Despite going to Dialysis every morning, he never let his sickness stop him from taking me on many adventures. Boy, did we have fun! We would go to the theater to watch plays. We go to the video rental store and spend hours deciding what movies to watch that night. Then we would head to the nearby mall to buy all toys and books I could carry in my tiny arms. My favorite part of the day was going to the thrift store in town and conjuring up little stories for the trinkets we came across inside. When we got back to his house, we would eat dinner, and spend the rest of the night watching the movies, or old TV shows like The Munsters and Bewitched. As the evening hours approached, we would move the party outside. We sat on the porch swing watching the sunset over the nearby riverbank. The colors were as stunning as my grandfather’s strength. As the stars began to pop out, we went back inside to wash up for the night. Around nine o’clock, we would all head to bed. I would sleep on the folding cot near the foot of his bed because of the limited space in the house. This is where the battle of wills began. While he and my grandmother slept, I would watch TV to fight the urge to sleep myself. It wasn’t a hard fight, though. Growing up, I was always a night owl, so staying up past my bedtime wasn’t the issue. But staying awake until two in the morning could be challenging for a kid. I would sit there on my little cot, trying my best to keep my eyes open. No matter how badly I wanted to, I knew I couldn’t fall asleep. At long last, two o’clock would come. The first sign I knew it was time was when the TV would click off. My grandfather had it set on a timer so that I wouldn’t fall asleep leaving it on. The next clue was the part I was waiting for all night. I heard him shuffling to get up in bed.
I don’t have one particular favourite food, lots of things taste so good, but I really enjoy cooking over a fire. Especially in the summer. My family and I eat outside and enjoy our meal under the setting sun.
Ah, summer. I straightened my spine and took a good, long look at the garden. For now, it appeared to be an empty patch of brown dirt, but I knew that it was only a matter of time before the miracle beneath the soil took place. Then there would be more green than we had wished for, and we all knew what that meant: the detestable chore of weeding. But today there was no weeding to do. Instead, it was time for my favorite garden job: planting.
Kevin carried out a small box covered in grease and food splatters, his belongings clinking inside. It wasn’t the first time the chef had been fired and he was quite sure it wouldn’t be the last. He had been blamed for not making food costs the last two months, although it was the front of the house who always came back and gorged themselves whenever they pleased. If he protested, he was reprimanded for being unwelcoming and creating a hostile work environment. It seemed there was just no winning for him.
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The salmon nigiri rotates past the couple for the third time since the couple sat down several minutes ago. One patron, an older man, had years ago slyly flicked a sharpie marker against the conveyor belt to time how long it took for the sushi items to pass through the entire restaurant. It was four minutes, twelve seconds.
Which is the Most Delicious Chocolate Cake Flavour?
When it comes to any occasion a perfect start begins with the cake. Are you a big lover of chocolate? Yeah, chocolate cakes are one of the best. The aroma and look of the chocolate cake when you cross the bakery or cake shop refreshes your mind and tempts you to eat.
Love and the Dessert Menu
Visualize an orchard, the clouds of flowers, the pollen sweeping through the air, and the soft grass. Collect your thoughts under a tree somewhere, let your eyes wander, and say whatever falls into your head and hope she doesn’t think you’re an idiot.
A Cultural Cocktail
The even hum of multiple conversations happening simultaneously, coupled with the clacking of the ticket printer, has grown more comforting as the years draw on. Only the ambiance has changed; red silk draped across the ceiling, romantic lighting, and lofi remixes to Chinese folk music is the newest setting of my melodramatic drama. Two Michelin stars, the Chef and owner Jonathan Fèng, is barely 32. The books are open for reservations starting in May of 2022. Chef Fèng takes personal offense to the fact that Americans recognize Chinese food as cheap and greasy, so he’s made it his life’s mission to showcase its exemplary qualities.
The Secret Behind Perfect Pancakes
Mila could not believe it. Her latest recipe for Greek-inspired meatloaf had more than 50,000 page views, and the viewers trickled onto other pages: Mexican chocolate pudding had 12,356; Sichuan nachos had 6,912; Jamaican jerk chicken flautas had 3,055. She could not tear her eyes away from the screen. This was it, she thought, the break she'd been waiting for.