Open this photo in gallery: Growing up as the child of immigrants on the Canadian Prairies, food was Bonny Reichert and her family's constant; not just a comfort, but a signifier of survival.Kayla Rocca/Supplied I was a bit of a weird little kid, from a palate point of view. While my friends were eating 1970s peanut-butter-and-jam sandwiches and Chef Boyardee pizza from a box, I was devouring beef tongue dipped in sweet-hot mustard and chicken necks boiled until the meat fell off the little bones. I liked oily things and fishy things: shmaltzy grieven made from crispy fried chicken skin,...
Monitoring Antisemitism Intel
