It’s an easy, healthy supper with a taste like a mouthful of sunshine — bright, in other words — and perfect for isolating at my country house (also my only house).
The tiresome women who insist that feminists oppose love and marriage make me tired. The young women who insist that they’re not feminists make me tired. In my mind — and it’s been this way since the scales fell from my consciousness in the mid-1970s — real feminists want women and men to have the… Continue reading We are feminists (who like to eat and, sometimes, cook)
I’ve had a bleach tray in my mouth for 2 and 1/2 hours, supposed to keep it in for 3. You know what this means: no eating, drinking (coffee!) through a straw. There is probably no better illustration of my impatience with being in the moment. Three hours feels like 300. Kind of like the… Continue reading Three hours, shrimp pitas