For me Thanksgiving has always been about the food. I appreciate the family time, especially as I get older and the kids range farther afield. And I do my best to stay grateful, take each day as a blessing. But the food? Most always a slam dunk. And mainly because of my Mother. My Mom was a fabulous cook. About the second week of October my phone would begin to ring and it would be Mom planning the Thanksgiving menu. And, because I am the only other cook in the family, we always planned it together. One of our many bonds, along with a love of books, history, and grandchildren. Well, my children, her grandchildren. Whole turkey or turkey breast? Country ham or spiral sliced? Sauteed haricot verts or long cooked with pork belly? Mashed potatoes, sweet potato casserole, or stuffing? Yes please. Rolls or cornbread?  And do we need a salad?  My vote was always for salad, mainly because Mom made a simple homemade vinaigrette like no other. And croutons from all that frozen bread cluttering the freezer the last three months.  I’m a run and gun style of cook. Hit the grocery store day before and pull it together on the fly Thanksgiving Day. Fix it in post. For her it was more than a meal, filled with love and unspoken meaning, and menu collaboration and planning was her favorite part. If it’s not on the page, it’s not on the stage. Another thing about our Thanksgiving - everyone was welcome. One year my daughter had befriended a charming fellow fifth grader. Turned out she and her own mother were living in their car, getting by on peanut butter and the occasional kindness of strangers. The girl was irascibly brilliant, and the mom spoke fluent French and Italian. They ended up moving into our guest bedroom for a while. My bachelor cousin Johnny was always there. Usually just out of rehab. Again. And Dad’s best friend with no family from high school. A widowed neighbor. And… well, whoever had no special place to go on Thanksgiving. Welcome. I’ve Read more [...]
When my sister Celine died, mama didn’t make me go to school for two weeks. I was in second grade and Celine in third. Had been in third.  We always did everything together. But between the shock of her passing, and then the funeral...it was all sad and a mystery to me. I’d never known anyone who had died before. I could hear my mother crying every night, and my father not saying anything, just staring off at the television. Everyone just trying to hold it together as best they could I guess. For themselves, and for me. Still hardly believing it had really happened.    One night a week after the funeral there was a really heavy rainstorm. Rain pounded on the roof and tapped on the window panes. I woke up and Celine was standing there beside the bed. Beside our bed. Because we had always slept together. She didn’t say a word, just climbed in with me and put her head on my chest. She wasn’t even wet from the rain, and I could feel her breath as I drifted back off to sleep.  The next night was the same. I woke up and she was standing there. But this time she spoke. “Get up and play with me Jim.” And we played almost the whole night, all the fun games we used to play together. It was so much fun to be with my sister again and laugh and play, just the two of us. And when I woke up the next morning I was barely even tired. Just so happy to know that when we put her in that small coffin and buried it in the ground she hadn’t really died. And she could still come back and be with me at night. We played every night for a while. Sometimes I could hardly believe we didn’t wake our parents, we made so much noise laughing and hiding and chasing each other around the room. It was so much fun, maybe even more fun than before she died. Because the adults didn’t hear anything, and we could play as loud as we wanted. And when I woke the next morning our room was cleaned up, and all the toys put back in their places. Celine Read more [...]

Ultra Processed Foods, produced by a handful of the world’s largest food conglomerates, are proving to be one of the great drivers of disease, obesity, ill health, and malnutrition in modern society. Read More

Ultra Processed Foods, produced by a handful of the world's largest food conglomerates, are proving to be one of the great drivers of disease, obesity, ill health, and malnutrition in modern society. Read more [...]
A big part of my every day is food. What to eat, what to cook, who to share it with. The meal and the time. Sometimes it's Johnna, sometimes it's one of the kids, a friend, or just at the table with a book. It's never forced. It's organic, it's what we do in the Wofford household. As I've gotten older and looked a little deeper into this daily ritual, this lifetime ritual, I've become more aware of the idea of food as medicine. For the body definitely. But also the soul, the mind, the spirit. And as we age, what we eat becomes even more important. We need more protein to grow and retain muscle. We need fiber for our gut. Anti-inflammatories to fight disease and infection, antioxidants, probiotics and prebiotics. Vitamins, minerals. The list goes on. And it needs to be clean, whole, unprocessed. We can get all this from foods off the shelf in the grocery store. And I like to cook. Cooking and sharing brings a lot of positives to the day. But it's time consuming. We're all looking for convenience, just not at the sacrifice of quality. Or good health. Because this is real life and we have responsibilities and work to do. And we need to live a long time to get it all done. But there's only so many hours in the day and not everyone can or wants to spend them in the kitchen. Entirely valid point. Same here. So all Spring and Summer this year I've been making protein bars. Nutrition bars. Batch after batch, recipe after recipe. Keeping a notebook. Experimenting with flavors, ingredients, and textures. Looking for a convenient food made from clean whole ingredients. Nutrient dense with stuff I know is good for me. Refining it, making them better. Organic, sustainable, packed with good clean plant based protein, fruit, seeds, nuts, and fiber. Non GMO, gluten free. Rich in anti-oxidants and vitamins. No added sugars. Nothing weird, minimally processed. Whole real food. Also delicious. Because I'm still at heart a foodist (as opposed to foodie. I hate Read more [...]

“ A lot of these kids don’t have anywhere to go in the afternoons, or they sit at home playing video games and scrolling their phones. We’re trying to get them up and moving, doing something constructive.” Read More

“ A lot of these kids don’t have anywhere to go in the afternoons, or they sit at home playing video games and scrolling their phones. We’re trying to get them up and moving, doing something constructive.” Read more [...]

“You know a year ago I was paralyzed, flat on my back. Couldn’t move a muscle. Had to learn to walk again. I’m moving slow now, but the way I’m going, won’t even need this cart to lean on soon.” Read More

“You know a year ago I was paralyzed, flat on my back. Couldn’t move a muscle. Had to learn to walk again. I’m moving slow now, but the way I’m going, won’t even need this cart to lean on soon.” Read more [...]

Out in the yard a racoon is climbing to the top of a high straight poplar tree. Sixty feet up, swaying on the slim distant limbs, he is thoroughly licking the leaves one bunch after another. Racoons are climbers but I’ve never seen one this high. First I thought he was after bird eggs in a high nest but apparently it’s bugs or larvae he is feasting on and worth the climb. Read More

Out in the yard a racoon is climbing to the top of a high straight poplar tree. Sixty feet up, swaying on the slim distant limbs, he is thoroughly licking the leaves one bunch after another. Racoons are climbers but I’ve never seen one this high. First I thought he was after bird eggs in a high nest but apparently it’s bugs or larvae he is feasting on and worth the climb. Read more [...]

Short version is I’ve always loved these things, sometimes irrationally. Followed racing and motorsports like some people follow politics. Or golf. And in those days the element of danger was very real. Drivers I idolized were killed every year. Cars were dangerous. And don’t even get me started on motorcycles, another passion. Read More

Short version is I’ve always loved these things, sometimes irrationally. Followed racing and motorsports like some people follow politics. Or golf. And in those days the element of danger was very real. Drivers I idolized were killed every year. Cars were dangerous. And don’t even get me started on motorcycles, another passion. Read more [...]