There is a story from my childhood my parents love to retell over and over again. I don't mind hearing it, I always end up laughing at...

I’m not proud of this loaf. For days it was left untouched on the counter, still nestled in the loaf pan, bundled in parchment pa...

There was a time when I was fervently passionate about my profession. I went to school to be a dietitian*, moved to Toronto, but partic...

When I think of jam, I think of my dad. With gusto, he would slather on strawberry jam on white bread (which he prefers over whole wheat) ...

Homemade ricotta is a dream. Its silky and luscious texture slicks down your tongue, leaving nothing but the richness of dairy. This morning...

Long ago, I was part of the varsity tennis team in high school, which granted us privilege to skip school, visit other countries (the most e...

When I was younger, my favorite afternoon snack was toast. I'd stick white bread in the toaster, press down the lever and step back imme...

One of my closest friends Milos came to visit me six months after saying he would. I was excited to see him not only because he’s great fun,...

I have a friend who dips croissants in maple syrup and cream. I know , I was astounded too, as if the amount of butter wasn’t enough of an i...

A brush of expresso breaks the calm foamy milk of a café au lait sitting before you. Roasted coffee wafts and mesmerizes you. It is almost d...