I’ve had an issue with food since I was about three years old. One of my earliest memories is sneaking into the kitchen, peeling away the gold foil on the stick of Blue Bonnet margarine and biting into it with reckless abandon. Yes, this is a true story. When you are left home with a schizophrenic mother while your siblings are off at school and your father is at work -- well, you find comfort where you can. Apparently, at three, you can find solace in partially hydrogenated vegetable oil. Read more >








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