
You have never thought of yourself as someone who is embarrassed by her body—you’re a college athlete!—but you will be, intensely so.
I tell her asparagus is the poor man’s truffle anyway, preferring this minor lie to the larger one that says the produce was actually intended for an old Polish man who likes Vicki Carr records and pinochle.
Potatoes are dropped into a pan of steaming water. Turkey is layered with corn, tomatoes, rice, and cheese. I no longer know whose hands are mine.
Why have I bought this cranberry muffin? It sits on a glass plate by the window seat of the Destination Baking Company—a small muffin, the top crunchy with sugar, the berries bleeding into the yellow bread. My action seems ordinary, and yet I am not hungry. The muffin hollows out around the cranberries like a […]
I went into a fever of hunger for a week, no satisfying it. I didn’t
sleep, I didn’t eat, I wouldn’t talk. I paced the confines
of our cottage with my red pencil, mumbling about marrow and kidneys.
“In the past decade, a lot of lifestyle subjects from home design to food have been put up on this pedestal, and there is a lot of social pressure that goes along with that now.”