Mom’s Creamed Spinach à La Julia

Is there a better feeling than being on the homepage over at Food52? In these pandemic days, I think not. I wrote about missing my mother’s cooking — specifically her spinach — and my mother. And father. And sister, aunt and second mother. You can read all about it by clicking here.

“Little” Grandpa and The List

Can I tell you a story about how some essays come into being?

I first wrote this piece, about my grandfather’s death and the secret I didn’t know about his work and his life, in college, oh, 20+ years ago. I wrote it as fiction, because it was a fiction-writing class and I didn’t know that I wasn’t really a fiction writer and I figured, what the hell? Who will know this is all true?

Over a decade later, I resurrected it for a workshop in graduate school, this time in its proper memoir form. Then, a few months ago, I decided to take a look at it again, make a few more changes, and send it off.

So what you’re reading here — or what you will read here, please and thank you so much! — is a piece that started in 1999 and is now seeing the light of day in 2019. Sometimes this is how it goes.

You can read about it all here. xoxox

A Few Thoughts on Dec 6, 1989

This weekend marked the 25th Anniversary of the Montreal Massacre.

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I wrote a short piece for the Archipelago on Medium about how it impacted me as a daughter, a feminist, and now as a mother to a little girl. You can read it here. And then go call your mama.