Eating with our hands helped us rediscover our roots.
History can be preserved in an icy treat.
The joys and hassles of family reunions are universal.
The spectacular French food in Hokkaido made us wonder whether there was a longstanding connection between French and Japanese cuisine.
My daughter and I tested our mettle against the cold, hard grip of fear during a trip to one of Japan’s winter playgrounds.
Sometimes I like being a parent. Sometimes I don’t.
I noticed my girls’ confidence grow when they made the same thing for breakfast every week.
Family trips may not be free of conflict, but the memories of time together can often outweigh troubles. I learned this lesson after my youngest daughter created her own souvenir of our trip to a lavender farm in Tasmania.
One day my husband left the country, and a squall blew in, unearthing resentments and loneliness. The only hope for me and the kids was to cook our way out of it.