A Fight for Good Health

“Round three,” the ring master shouts into the microphone, as a woman, who looks a lot like me, confidently walks in a circle carrying the number 3 sign. I tilt my head up enough to see the number with one eye open, feel the sugar slowly paralyze my brain, spinning me into the catatonic state…

Sour Patch

Bitter, sour, sweet the rapture tongue treat when defiance becomes defeat leaving the tasting muscle raw.


You fill my senses buttery hot corn popping salted savory like air in the hand and weightless on the tongue.

Intoxicated by Infusion

For a moment, I am intoxicated, losing focus as snow falls on the road before me like grated Parmesan cheese. Infusing my nostril hairs with goodness, the smell of flour and yeast fill my car. For a second, I am no longer aware of my surroundings and my instinct is to slow down or pull over. But…

Savoring Good Eats for Bad Habits

In the richness of health, beyond the cookie dough, that will later find its way to my tongue lies a lush mango, feta, spinach and kale salad waiting to be devoured.


One taste is all I needed to criticize your salty and sweet, your dry crunchy outer shell and moist inner goodness; while, you lay upon my tongue between the bite of bone.


Swift, stir, measure and mix, spoon takes on twirling as my finger licks the bowl for a sacrificial bite of two or ten, less cookies for others when the taste is addictive and I do it again.

This is the Day

A blistery arctic blast was set to invaded my part of Michigan. So, as to get some exercise in before it hit, for two days, I let me feet take me to the beach, stopping every so often to take a picture with my phone, and allow the chill of winter to crawl up my…

Writers Block Cravings

At least once a week I have lunch at Sue’s Cafe in downtown St. Clair. Today, after a little spring cleaning, I knew I wanted to visit again. The door chimed in the back as I entered, and the smell of baked goods wafted toward me. I stepped through the hall into the light, where…


Here. I know this spot. My elbow an anchor for my head. Thoughts dance for an hour before returning to the grind. Between bites, I ponder what I want to be when I grow up and sort through tasks on my to do list, stopping every few minutes to take in the sunshine and watch…

Gluttony Makes Me Tired

Eager to be seated before the restaurant is overtaken by the lunch crowd, we grab a table and settle in. Our waitress arrives with menus that we disregard and reach for the sushi list instead, marking sushi and rolls, making our order a colorful meal. When our miso arrives, our rolls slowly follow and disappear…

Holiday Hibernation Tips Its Hand to Thankfulness

November 27, 2014, 1:30 p.m., I have a scoop of mashed potatoes in one hand and a plate in the other as I mentally plan my attack. For me, food has a process: mashed potatoes must have at least a two layer height, crater in the middle and filled with overflowing gravy. Turkey lay close…