Posts tagged as:

mothers

Internet Magic and Pistachios

by Anastasia on January 13, 2010

tweetSO ABOUT A MONTH ago, when I had first gotten home for semester break, I tweeted about a very sisterly moment between my mother and me, in which we gorged ourselves on pistachios and talked about Alec Baldwin’s undying handsomeness. Lo and behold, the Wonderful Pistachio company (twitter.com/@getcrackin) contacted me several days later and said that they chose my tweet as one of their recent favorites about pistachios. And furthermore, that they would like to send me some free nuts! I was a bit skeptical at first. [click to continue…]

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Turkey with a Side of Seaweed

by Anastasia on November 25, 2009

173553178_fdf8b165a3THIS IS OUR YEAR FOR A THANKSGIVING with a twist. I’m living in my first apartment that really feels like home (hooray!), so last week my mom packed a bag and drove down the coast to spend the holiday with me. We’re going to be eating an all-vegetarian meal with some dear friends in Charlotte. On the menu is old-fashioned corn pudding, apple crisp, mashed potatoes, sautéed kale, and baked squash with apples. What won’t we be eating, you ask (turkey and ham aside)? Seaweed. Yup, that’s right. Because we already tried that on Thanksgiving. [click to continue…]

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From Tripe to Tofu and Back Again

by Anastasia on April 1, 2009

lady

1970s Polaroid of my mother (back) with my grandmother and my aunt.

MY FAMILY’S STORY OF FOOD is partly the story of our evolution, of our identities unraveling into who we are today. As a third-generation American, I can barely pronounce gnocchi, let alone make it. And while that seems almost tragic to me, that’s the way my Italian grandmother and great grandmother would have wanted it—their offspring bearing the regional accents of New England and not of Asti. (My great grandmother, Nanny, actually used to pronounce that pasta dish “gnoch” in an effort to sound less Italian.) [click to continue…]

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March is Women’s History Month

by Anastasia on March 3, 2009

sisterwoman2 S O HERE’S A relic of second-wave feminism straight from my mother’s bedroom wall.

Women united cannot be defeated! Women united cannot be defeated!

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