My neighbor, a retired baker named Lorraine, watched me struggling with a batch of overly flat, sad-looking cookies one October afternoon. I was trying to … Read more

Louise wasn’t trying to impress anyone. I’d stopped by her place to grab a garden stake I’d lent her last spring, and the smell hit … Read more

Introduction Last October, I was at the tail end of a farmers market run, my canvas bag already heavy with squash and the last of … Read more

My dad swore he hated apple cider. For years. “Too sweet,” he’d grunt whenever someone brought out a jug at a family gathering. “Tastes like … Read more