Comfort food: Recipes as art and identity
Monday, November 16th, 2009
STUFF IT! Last year's turkey, almost ready to eat
A few weeks ago, my family and I were in a bad car accident. Driving down Ga. 400 at about 60 miles per hour, my back right tire blew and my brakes failed. After a few terrifying seconds fishtailing back and forth, all my weight on a useless brake pedal, the car spun around and hit the concrete divider. The airbags deployed, and the car filled with smoke. None of us was hurt, save a nasty bruise for me from the seat belt, but we were badly shaken.
After the police, the insurance and the ride home, we tried to regroup. What to do? How to convince our befuddled souls, which in those seconds had prepared for eternity, that we were still firmly grounded in this world?
We roasted a chicken.
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(Photo by Jennifer Zyman)










Last year, we caught ten ‘possums inside the house raiding the cats’ food. Wayne got very good at herding them into a cat carrier and transporting them across the street to Grant Park. (No, they did not waddle back to the house. Wayne, being a scientist, was careful to note nose and coat color.)