Candyland Crush
I can still smell the first time I made Candyland Crush for my grandchildren. The warm sugar note rose like a memory of summer fairs. Little hands hovered over the …
Dalida Marino I can still smell the first time I made Candyland Crush for my grandchildren. The warm sugar note rose like a memory of summer fairs. Little hands hovered over the …
A warm pan light gleams on the counter while a ribbon of candy slips through my fingers, sticky and bright like a child’s laughter. I remember the afternoon my sister …
I remember the first time I tasted Caribbean Cloud Candy. It was a humid afternoon, the kind that lets the sea smell ride in on the breeze, and my aunt …
I still remember the sound of my grandmother laughing as she spun a tuft of cotton candy above a paper cone, then watched my brother hold it over a tall …
Each time the first sparkling bubble touches the cotton candy, a thin cloud unfurls and a small laugh spills out of someone at the table. I remember the bright pink …
I still remember the first time I saw cotton candy melt into a glass. My niece had made a crown of pink floss then, with a giggle, lowered it over …
I remember the kitchen on a slow Sunday in late autumn. The light leaned low through the curtains and warmed the wooden table where my grandmother sat peeling Vidalia onions …
I remember the kitchen light in late afternoon, the slices of sweet onion catching the sun and turning soft and translucent in my mother’s hands. The air would fill with …
I can still feel the cool, gentle wobble of the tray when I open the fridge. The light catches the glossy top and turns it into a small evening sky, …
I still remember the warm hush in my childhood kitchen when the pecans clicked gently in my grandmother’s pan. The air filled with a sweet, toasty scent that felt like …