recipe

Best recipes from the Feast community cookbook for your home kitchen.

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
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
Garlic Kale Pasta for the Soul
It was a Monday. Much like any other Monday, full of drudgery, but this Monday was slightly different. The air a bit heavier, muscles tense, head and heart heavy; making it difficult to breathe or find comfort in my own skin. I went through the day completing every task on my to-do list. Go here. Call there. Do this. Document that. Mundane musings of a typical work day. Yet still different. Filled with aching thoughts of those mourning and war breaking out on a distant horizon. Swamped with social media reminders of pain and angst. Again and again. Feeling helpless and guilty all the same. Yet somehow in this faraway world, we experience “peace” and safety. Luxuries to say the least. Our days move on from dusk until dawn, existing on repeat. Physically unscathed but emotionally bleeding. I came home from work with a head full of thoughts but a mind quite empty. Unsure of what to say or do that could somehow make things feel right. Just consumed by extreme exhaustion with no true form of rest in sight. Life spins on in a vortex of chaos while we make futile attempts to remain balanced. Steady in the midst of the storm. I am sure my partner felt it too. The heaviness of it all. Expectations of complacency. The world fails to cease and so should we. Despite the entire human existence crumbling beneath our feet, we tried to lighten the evening with ice cream. I allowed my taste buds to focus in on the rich Neptune chocolate that melted onto a delicious Butterfinger cone. He opted for salted caramel. Maybe we’d skip dinner altogether. I mean, we are adults after all and I am sure that ice cream meets the requirements of some food group somewhere. But then "real" supper-time hunger set in. Accompanied by somber feelings once again. So we began to toss around ideas regarding ways to find nourishment despite neither of us really wanting to expend much energy. We laid in bed aimlessly for a moment. Then suddenly the boyfriend drifted into the kitchen, deciding to do what he does best. Bring comfort through food - assuming pasta would do. He entered into the zone of carbohydrates a la mode, in the only fashion that can soothe the soul.
By Kelly3 years ago in Feast
Ooh, That Alfredo
I am an elementary educator. I made it home completely drained. Depleted to the point of sheer exhaustion, I walked in the door and kicked my shoes across the room. The torture device called my bra was taken off next. Hindered by it's restricted straps and in pain from the much needed underwire, I took it off immediately without taking off my shirt. It was flung successfully onto a door knob. The weight of gravity never felt so good as my breast went back to where nature intended them to be. I unbuttoned my pants and ran my hands along the ripples on my stomach created by a waist band just a little too tight from Marketside decadent chocolate chunk cookies and Little Debbie strawberry shortcake rolls ice cream.
By Theresa Marie Cain3 years ago in Feast
Soulful Serenity: A Ladle of Love from Grandma's Kitchen
Growing up, I was lucky to have a grandma who prepared delicious meals that could both comfort and heal. Her culinary approach was simple, yet wonderful, as she instilled love, care, and a lifetime of expertise into every meal. Grandma's kitchen holds numerous upbeat recollections for me, but one in specific sticks out: the day I gotten her relieving chicken noodle soup when I required it the most.
By Kageno Hoshino3 years ago in Feast
Khichadi & Kadhi
Khichadi & Kadhi: A plate of comfort It was January of 2021. The world was coming to grips with the reality and rapidly changing guidelines for isolation and treatment of a new and deadly pandemic. We had managed to stay away from COVID for almost a year. Our cook had been given temporary leave till the pandemic scare reduced. Cleaning and cooking duties were shared between family members and I was the designated cook from the time we went into lockdown.
By Deepti Thakkar3 years ago in Feast
Velvet Embrace:
Raindrops pelted the window, their rhythm a haunting echo to the thud of my heart. It was my third week alone in a new city. As night fell, the vast expanse of buildings around me, towering and impersonal, felt more like prison walls than a new beginning. Three weeks, yet it felt like an eternity since I’d left my hometown – the place of Sunday family dinners, weekend picnics, and laughter echoing across the streets of my small town neighborhood.
By Kat Bartschi3 years ago in Feast
A taste of love and comfort
The time I was offered this dish, it was a chilly winter evening. I had just returned home after a particularly challenging day at work, feeling exhausted and a bit defeated. The weight of the world seemed to rest on my shoulders, and I longed for something that could provide solace and warmth.
By Haris Hadzic3 years ago in Feast
Cherry Cobbler
The memory of the cherry cobbler takes me back to a summer afternoon when the weight of uncertainty settled heavily on my shoulders. It was a period of transition, with looming changes and an undercurrent of anxiety. My mind raced with endless "what-ifs," and I found myself struggling to find a sense of grounding amidst the whirlwind of emotions.
By shallon gregerson3 years ago in Feast
Apple Vinaigrette
Fall is my favorite time of the year when the air is crisp, and the fall vegetables make for mouth-watering dishes. The traditional summer ingredients for my salads give way to fennel, apples, oranges, pears, and cranberries, just to name a few.
By KA Stefana 3 years ago in Feast