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Author: Deb Barshafsky

God Bless America and Pass the Cheese Tortellini

WHEN IT COMES TO EATING, our sensory system operates much like a highly coordinated basketball team. We take our place at the table and our sight, hearing, touch, smell and taste begin passing the ball around the court.  We hear onions sizzling in a hot pan. We inhale the scent of orange zest atop a refreshing cocktail. We feel the warmth of a freshly baked loaf of bread on our fingertips. We taste the sweetness of cold watermelon on a blistering summer day. We marvel at the visual beauty of a perfectly assembled sushi roll. When all of the...

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Cannons and Confederate Cakes

LIKE MY DOG SOOLI—a Chinese Shar-Pei—I am a card-carrying member of the non-sporting group. I do not run (unless I am being chased). I do not jump. I have never assumed the half lord of the fishes pose. I don’t swing for fences and I have never stolen home. Showing up for gym class in suede shoes and knee socks sealed my fate in the unforgiving world of junior high athletics. In college, I enrolled in archery and hunter safety to meet my physical education requirements. Nope, I do not do sports.  But late one night—the house dark and...

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