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Matters of taste: dish off the old block

"What we eat in our childhoods becomes part of us, folded up in our memories and personality"

By Wendell Steavenson   January 2017

My mother was born in New York in 1941, into the rarefied climes of haute Wasp (White Anglo-Saxon Protestant), the American version of nobs. She grew up between the Upper East Side, the family estate in Oyster Bay, Long Island and the country club. “Daddy would come home in the evening and put his hat in the closet and whistle. My mother would have dressed for dinner.” This would be, for example,…

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