Good food is worth a thousand words—sometimes more. In My Family Recipe, writers share the stories of dishes that are meaningful to them and their loved ones.
The copper mines in my hometown closed in 1986, when I was 12 years old. A couple years later the river flooded, nearly washing the speck of a town away. Railroad tracks that used to carry copper today twist through the land like varicose veins, once active but now mostly dormant. Old mining shafts poke up above the trees—lone elevators to nowhere.