The juniper brased lamb neck at The Marrow At a certain point in a man’s life, usually in his mid- to late 30s, a time when his grandparents are dead or dying, when he may or may not have children of his own, and when his own wrinkles begin to remind him of his father’s tired eyes, he beings ardently wishing to how to deal with that millstone, scaffold and lodestar we call family. One can only cast family aside for so long until its weight accrues like unpaid interest and reaches for closure. One can only take it for granted, unexamined and floating like gossamer in the wind, so long before ... Read More