Living
When I think of oatmeal—and its history with Canada’s residential school system—I think about how our nations are healing ourselves.
Courtney Skye
My nana’s love and care often came in the form of eight-ounce jars of chutney. Since we’ve stopped speaking, I’ve had to learn to make them myself.
Chatelaine
We were really getting on each other’s nerves. I realized we needed a new approach.
The produce bargain rack is where I play a game with myself. It’s the wild-card ingredient not on my shopping list, but soon on my dinner table.
I didn’t feel entitled to grieve my not-quite relationship—but without a grieving process, how do you let go?