Welcome to Flashback
This show begins with stuffed peppers. My stepmom, Cyndy would make them every weekend – and they were good, people — blue-ribbon-at-the-state-fair good. To this day, even though Cyndy is gone, whenever I smell the rich, herbal aroma of stuffed peppers, see one behind the counter of deli, or read about them on a restaurant menu, I think of Cyndy: carefully lifting one out of the pyrex with a spatula and a fork to put on my plate. That is what I call a Flashback: something simple that brings back a memory or a story. For me, it’s Cyndy’s stuffed peppers. For others, it might be a butterfly in the garden or the sound of rain on an attic roof. Memories are potent, powerful things.