Food in small places
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Food in small places

I’m the proud owner of a small house. It was built in 1929 on a plot of land that was once an orchard, about a 10-minute walk from Victoria Park in the heart of Kitchener, Ontario. The architectural style is called “Germanic Cottage,” and it was designed by an architect named Edward Reitzel, whose blueprints…

A Humble Dish
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A Humble Dish

Daycare has been open for about a month now, and soon school will be too. At the moment, however, things are pretty homebound here, as they have been since mid-March. That means my attention and energy are still directed toward more domestic pursuits. I’m generally OK with this, but I do feel some pressure to get out there and seize the day, too.

The Benefit of Bitterness
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The Benefit of Bitterness

It feels a little odd to reflect on sabbath rhythms at the moment. Even the word “rhythm” feels out of place; were I to use a musical term to describe these last three months, “drone” would feel just as accurate. It often feels like the same day over and over again, which causes a little ennui to creep in from time to time. And as for a sabbath, I don’t feel like I’ve experienced a typical one of those, either, since this all went down.

Comfort Foods

Comfort Foods

There are glimmers of hope as I write: peaks are passing, curves are flattening, and intensive care units are not overwhelmed. At least in my neck of the woods. Even still, not all the headlines are good at the moment – and they never will be, this side of the veil – and surely there’s more bad news to come. Bad news is a bitter pill. But bitter pills are best swallowed on a full stomach, and so I’d like to teach you how to make another dish which bears gustatory and psychological benefits in equal measure.

An Invitation to Dinner

An Invitation to Dinner

It might be strange to think it possible to benefit from a pandemic, and I’m not one to immediately look for silver linings or that sort of thing. I do think, though, that if the time spent social distancing or in self-isolation helps us puncture some of our most dearly-held going forward; this is, of course, in addition to the benefit that comes from stopping the spread of a hideous upper respiratory virus.

Twang and the Truth

Twang and the Truth

Lately have I loved country music. Growing up, I could barely stand it. For a few reasons I guess, not least of which were some class assumptions; I was a middle class white kid from the suburbs, and through rejecting country music I could be white without being like those white people. Thankfully, like Ambrose converting a haughty Augustine, Johnny Cash knocked that snotty attitude right out of me in my early 20s. I repented when I first heard Cash’s famed American Recordings, the spare, stripped down records he made with producer Rick Rubin.