…mostly about the concerns of Chinatown folks and the issues affecting them, such as the impending closure of a supermarket in “Is Access to Affordable Food a Human Right? On the…

…future husband when he noticed her sketchbook from across the aisle. Wednesday: a soup dumpling. She already misses the food that reminds her of family. Here, the daily meals come…

…you said and flavor food, before language sat comfortably at the table next to me. At any moment the fear of what is untranslatable falls on my head. Reading is…

…“Magnolia cart” eating ice cream, pinipig crunchfive centavos, ten I cannot join them“no baon.” Rellenong Bangus, Pochero, Guinataan, etc.:My mother accepted cooking food for our neighbors,also sold fruits; Father bought…

…Campbell’s soup, and, in the thick of my pitted stomach, I learn my father’s orphanhood. Mouth by mouth, fallen like insects when I couldn’t find food. I cupped the ants…

is a Lao writer, a Kundiman Fellow and a Tin House Summer Workshop alum. She writes about food, class and postcolonialism. Her work has appeared in The Funambulist.

is a freelance writer and cook. He lives in Brooklyn, where he runs The Tiffin Club, a dinner series that explores regional Indian cooking. His writing on food, travel, and…

…different from Chinese food. My sister doesn’t have a window. Or if she does, it is too small and dark to be remembered—a forgotten portal to a brick wall. The…

…family, at least, counted a Spaniard or two in their family tree. Their language, their religion, their food, their customs, embedded deep within Filipino culture, down to my very family…

The following essay and its translation are part of the Against Forgetting notebook, with art by Neil Doloricon. Editor’s Note: The following is an excerpt from Noel Pangilinan’s bachelor’s thesis,…

This short story and its translation are part of the notebook Against Forgetting, which features art by Neil Doloricon….

…to feed them; our month’s supply of food was wiped out in two, three days. We interviewed everyone and determined who was in danger and who wasn’t. The first, we…

…into my body and leach my appetite from me. I cannot eat, so my main form of subsistence is half food and half light. It is ghost month, and all…

…showed me the calendar she’d been using to mark the days she fed the koi—every three days, as recommended. “They all came and ate the food just like normal.” She…

…a room that was locked. There was someone doing cocaine. There were two dogs begging for food. There was Pop crying on the shoulder of an auntie with a yoko-hyogo…

…else would I get a chance to train them on spicy food?  The real kicker came with Yara’s follow up text. BTW it’s going to be your kids with me…

…“in-between” spaces I wanted to explore were college students and recent graduates facing housing and/or food insecurity, pop-up vendors, and in-home care workers. I didn’t want to only focus on…

On my omma’s death day, I forgo the forbidden: peaches, garlic, red spice— food that chase away spirits. Instead, there is dduk guk (떡국) and namul (나물), a handful of…

…I played the waiting game. Everyone left and so there I was; and somebody right there. Process of elimination. They were mustachioed and bearded, with bits of food stuck in…

…kid is watching a pug sneak some of a St. Bernard’s food. A sour-faced brunette behind me tells another girl that she is so lucky she doesn’t have to do…