I nearly blew it last Christmas. Locked away and tucked tight in my velvet canopied bed, futilely trying to sleep through the spiritual affliction of holiday pickled herring and organic egg nog, I was barraged by a parade of ominous specters. The past was easy enough to ignore and I tried to feign indifference toward the present as I rallied for another round of sleep...

Betty Burke Webb
Born on Columbus Day, October 12, 1933.
Died on Ash Wednesday, February 25, 2004.

Delivered Upon Her Inurnment Saturday, March 6, 2004.

It is said that the relationship which you have with your parents intrinsically defines how you approach your relationship with God. It's true; after all, the care that you are given on e...

Playing with food has been sort of a tradition within my family, something which probably didn’t really take off until I took over as resident chef and artistic director. Long before the geniuses who invented spam began marketing their savvy coolness to insomniacs on “Nick at Night”, my oldest sister, a culinary stripling at the age of twelve, would pan fry (not sauté...

I have a matching pen and holder which I received as a gift years ago. Crudely carved of wood and coated in something resembling soft rubbery tar, it is ornamented with a pattern of brightly colored beads and small bits of mirrored glass. If you look into it you can see a mosaic portrait of yourself reflected back — one which is by design distorted and shattered into ...