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Grilled cheese donuts: what food in Cincinnati says about America

I wondered at the folly of a country so bountiful that it had become so greedy and piled everything on its plate. Until I ate breakfast the next day

Wendell Steavenson

I landed in Cincinnati in a thunderstorm. My Airbnb room turned out to be in an apartment in a dodgy neighbourhood. I was late to my dinner with friends. One of the guests, Carol, who had known me for about 45 minutes before hearing about my predicament, said: “Well, of course, you can stay with us. We are empty nesters, our kids are gone and there is plenty of room.”

And so I woke up in green lawn suburbia, well slept, to the smell of percolating coffee.…

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