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When something that was consistently present—quietly, dependably, generation after generation—suddenly announces its departure, a certain kind of grief descends upon a…
The seafood industry’s regulations were subtly altered last October somewhere between…
An American shrimper in the Gulf and a corn farmer in…
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When you start preparing seafood for two people, the math is the first thing you notice. Two adults can eat exactly one pound of shrimp on the…
Last spring, a chef friend of mine informed me that he had rescheduled the entire trip for Portugal. He used to spend every February eating his way…
The seafood industry’s regulations were subtly altered last October somewhere between a freezer warehouse outside of Boston and a wholesale market in Rotterdam. The majority of American…
An American shrimper in the Gulf and a corn farmer in Iowa lived in two entirely different bureaucratic worlds for the majority of the previous fifty years.…
The smell of charcoal and brine emanating from a milkfish stall older than most American eateries is the first thing you notice in Tainan, right before sunrise.…
When a slow cooker is working, a certain type of silence descends upon a kitchen. In the afternoon, you pass by it, lift the lid for a…
There is a small business selling something that shouldn’t really be able to be sold somewhere between Dutch Harbor and the docks at Kodiak. It’s a boat…
On a Kraken game night, the noise from the upper bowl and the ice are not the first things you notice when you walk through Climate Pledge…
