Our Food Stories

My family heritage is Palestinian, and when my Tata cooks for my family, I feel connected with my culture through the rich, soothing flavors. The food carries more than just a taste; it symbolizes my family's strength and resilience. Food is like a second home for my family as it connects us all.

My grandmother always makes me chocolate strawberries. Whenever I get my hands on one, it tastes like my childhood summers spent at her house. The creamy chocolate and sickly sweet flavors dance on my tongue each time without fail.

My favorite food tradition is eating paella with my family for special occasions like Christmas and Easter. My grandpa on my mom's side is from Spain, so my dad learned to make paella when I was young and makes it at least twice a year ever since. Sharing it with friends and family is the best.

A dish that tastes like home to me is dosa, which is a savory crepe of South Indian origin. When eating the dish, we often accompany it with a chutney, my favorite being the peanut. Unlike a standard crepe, the dosa ranges from soft to crispy, crackling as easily as a chip, despite its soft texture.

My parents had a root cellar where they stored food from the garden: potatoes, strawberries, tomatoes, lettuce, carrots, beets, onions, green and yellow beans, peas, squash, parsely, rhubarb, and corn. They also had a grape arbor. Mom canned the food to store. We had a 1940 model Frigidaire.

My favorite meal is a classic Thanksgiving spread. My mother, an immigrant from Taiwan who was more comfortable cooking Chinese food, always made a full turkey dinner for Thanksgiving. In college, trips home meant a turkey dinner even outside Thanksgiving. It was a testament of her love for me.

My family heritage is mostly UK, so the food I grew up with was nourishing but bland. Putting black pepper on anything was a bold move. That's why I will never forget my first visit to the West Side market, in my early 20s. The sights and smells made me dizzy with joy!

My grandma is from Brazil, and she taught us to celebrate with brigadeiros, bite-size chocolate balls covered in sprinkles. They're perfect for small hands. I remember rolling the warm chocolate before a gathering and sneaking one before family arrived, hoping the evidence didn't stick to my teeth.

Food that tastes like home for me is beet soup borscht. As someone with Polish roots, that deep, earthy flavor carries more than just taste; it carries memory. I don’t even need a full meal sometimes, I’ll buy a bottle of beet juice and drink it straight, and that alone brings me right back.