We no longer needed practical. We wanted goodness, even if it was fleeting. We wanted saccharine, even if it left us yearning. We wanted Cosmic Brownies.
Here’s what I remember: a wooden bowl. My father’s silver hair under the spotlit kitchen island. Hands busy mashing yolk and rind; the squeeze of a tube of anchovy paste,…
Even years after we graduated high school or left our hometown or eschewed processed snack foods, we couldn’t deny the evidence of our former appetites, each of our fingers a…
