Creative Nonfiction by Andrea Badgley
My husband lowered a glass bowl from the top of the refrigerator, peeled back an edge of plastic wrap, and peered in. “Does this look dried out to you?” he asked. I looked into the bowl he held in the palm of his hand and saw a tan spongy mass. A dry crust was forming … Continue reading Feeding the beast
Zippers and buttons clank against the metal drum of the dryer: snowpants tumbling after a morning romp in fresh snow. Our eight year old daughter, her hair a stringy mess of snow-wet tangles, blows on a pot of boiling water, trying to make the starchy foam go down after adding a cup of dry elbow … Continue reading An unexpected lunch
Mom’s red and white checked cookbook was falling apart even when I was a child. Every time she pulled it off the shelf, which was nearly every day, tattered pages would spill out, their binder holes torn, and she’d shove the sheets back in before thumbing to the recipe she wanted. The gingham cover was … Continue reading That red and white checked cookbook
Unlike the praline catastrophe, where I was able to save the candy, my attempt at a campfire blueberry crisp was a spectacular failure from which there was no recovery. Two weeks and a dozen rounds of soaking, scraping, and scrubbing later, there is still blackened blueberry cemented to the bottom of our cast iron Dutch … Continue reading How not to make a campfire Dutch oven dessert
“Hey bro, guess what your niece wants to be when she grows up?” My brother is a Key West trained chef and restaurateur who owns Smith’s Coastal Grill, a successful restaurant that fuses coastal Georgia, deep South, and Carribbean cuisines in small-town Eatonton, Georgia. “What?” he said. I grinned. “She wants to be a chef.” … Continue reading 2013: Our summer of culinary training
Our seven year old daughter gave me a gift this Christmas that continues to impress me, not because of the gift itself, but because of her reason for giving it. I am a baker. I have loved to bake since I first stood on a wooden gray stool next to my mom and felt chocolate … Continue reading Learning to let go in the kitchen
