J. Y. Strain lives and works in Bloomington, Ill. This poem is dedicated “for my brother, regarding his ride.” I’d Like to See You at Thanksgiving ...
These days, everyone seems to enjoy tending chickens and eating local. But lifestyles are rarely ways of life, and the grain that goes into our daily bread is still easiest to obtain from giant operations. Visiting a dying small farm shows why.
When you’re a competition-level grocery-store bagger, it’s easy to overlook the messy lives of your co-workers. But when one of them goes missing, and you start to grow up, the picture changes.
Risen from the streets of Eastern Europe and squalid New York City, bagels now hold a seat at middle- and upper-class breakfast tables everywhere. A look back from a baker with 50,000 “golden visions” under his belt.
Some people require the Heimlich Maneuver a bit more than the rest of us. A report on the four times—so far—that the author has relied on the assistance of others.
A grocery visit or dinner out in Israel can sometimes leave your stomach churning, but not for the reasons you might think.
Right now I am drinking Nespresso. A cup—a very little cup—of the Dulsão de Brasil, currently my favorite variety. And I am about to...
The state fair puts on display the usual cornucopia of wonders both natural and synthetic, all ready for your sampling. A young man gets in touch with his appetite.
The USDA recently replaced the almighty food pyramid with a color-coded pie chart. To celebrate our nation’s mixed metaphors about healthy eating, one man decides to spend a month attempting to follow every government recommendation he can find. Nowhere is pie advised.
Though you can still count on it for antibiotic-free cheese, the farmers’ market has become a macrocosm of first-world food neuroses. True stories from behind the rustic wax-paper-lined baskets.
The Terrorist Diet [In Afghanistan, Osama bin Laden] no longer slaughtered a lamb every day to serve his guests; now he rarely ate meat, preferring to live on dates, milk,...
These meticulous, stylized portraits have the visual lure of advertising, but they’re not selling anything, merely asking you to look.