
Salt, Ink, & Soul
Writing on food, family, and identity
“I write so that our food, our struggles, and our stories are never forgotten, but carried forward as legacy.”
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Felix the Fox Collection
Gentle adventures from the Whispering Woods — stories of courage, friendship, and resilience for children, and for the adults who read beside them.
Latest Post
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The Villain Who Made Me Think
I liked Magneto before I ever really knew him. A childhood memory of hearing Stan Lee discuss Professor X and Magneto opened the door to X-Men—and to the realization that sometimes the most interesting villains carry ideas we understand.
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Do Not vs. Don’t
A small Saturday note from the writer’s desk about two words, one supposedly important literary decision, and what happens when a writer thinks about either of them for far too long.
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A Long Way from Canned Tamales
I grew up thinking tamales came from a can wrapped in paper. Then I moved west. Arizona began the education. Texas added its own lessons. And New Mexico taught me that food can become one of the quieter ways a place claims you. I particularly like using the canned-tamale detail in the excerpt because it…
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It’s the Fair. It’s OK to Eat the Green Chile Cheeseburger.
The New Mexico State Fair is here, which means green chile cheeseburgers. I thought about making mine healthy. Then I decided some foods don’t need fixing. Sometimes you just make the best burger you can and enjoy it.
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A Tourist in the Place I Once Called Home
I returned to the Quad Cities expecting to recognize Home. Instead, I found myself using Maps on streets I once knew by heart. A reflection on memory, change, belonging, and what happens when the place that made us continues without us.
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You Know Fall Is Coming When the Balloons Go Up
I grew up in the Midwest, where changing leaves announced the arrival of fall. New Mexico taught me to recognize a different set of signs: cooler mornings, the smell of green chile roasting, and hot air balloons drifting across the sky. Somewhere along the way, those unfamiliar rituals began to feel like my own.