This is the beginning of a much larger project for me to extract and record the stories of the lives of my parents:
My parents make food, not just for a living; but for a life. To some people, food is just fuel and they do not see art; but only utility. For my parents, preparing a meal is a method of artistic expression and the only familiar thing they were allowed to bring to a new world; consolation and occupation to fill in the times of isolation in rural Ontario.
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