"My parents drank wine with dinner every night. There’s nothing remarkable about that, but to a kid growing up in Mid-Missouri it was weird."
In the autoethnographic "Spinach Lasagna", the narrator joins a family of southern Italians and learns that grieving is cultural.
"At friends’ homes and the inexpensive trattorias where I usually ate, there was always wine and water on the table, but often only one glass."
"She has been so careful at work; she has had all of her shopping delivered for weeks, actually for months, now; she's even wiped down the items with bleach as they are delivered, and still does. How can this have happened?"
