Author: Stephanie March

Europe changes you. No one can deny that. You may go the first time with a young, cynical it-can’t-be-that-big-of-a-deal complex. They have churches. So what. You’ve seen churches. Stuff is really old, you get that, but what does Europe have that we don’t in the U.S.? And then it sinks in. Maybe while drinking your…

When you take stock of your life, you often start to appreciate the things you’ve taken for granted. At thirteen thousand feet above sea level, I had a moment like that. Walking over Dead Woman’s Pass on the Inca Trail, heading to Machu Picchu, I began to feel really lucky to have had such a…

What price a good meal? The question posed in the preface of The American Home Cookbook of 1932 is readily answered by its publishers: “Barring the obvious cost of materials, there is that priceless ingredient—interest.” Oh, those sage prophets of cookery books replete with gems like deviled sardines and jellied venison. They had no idea…

Just about everyone can name someone they know who hates meatloaf. Or yogurt, I bet you can find someone in your circle who categorically hates yogurt. But I dare you to locate someone who hates pizza. Sure, you can find a friend with tomato issues or one of those poor, lactose-intolerant freaks who cries if…

In a floating restaurant, with buoys hanging from the ceiling and the full complement of other nautical trappings, I ordered my first lobster. I was eight. Not a big seafood fan, I hemmed and hawed over the menu, which was crammed with clip-art renderings of comical sea creatures, until my Uncle John leaned over and…

In the heady days of summer, it is particularly easy to gaze out the office window and dream the Raspberry Dream. In the Raspberry Dream, you walk to your raspberry patch in the warm morning sunshine. The dewy grass brushes your lightly tanned skin as thrushes and cedar waxwings herald your arrival. The encumbered bushes…