Classroom of the Month: John Ferry’s “Image and Form” class at Kansas City Art Institute

And the Winners of the "A Life in Bites" Contest Are…

There’s no better part of making SMITH than witnessing what happens when we put out a call to our community for a challenge. Time and again, our readers/writers rock our world with their submissions to projects, contests, calls to convert a pregnancy story into a spot on a pickle jar—you name it. For a recent six-word project, A Life in Bites, we teamed up with our pals at Chowand asked how you to describe your food life in six words. The grand-prize winner, as chosen by the editors of Chow, is:

Are you going to eat that?

The peckish six-word scribe is Nancy Elliott, an attorney, wife, and mother of two school-age children in Houston, TX—and now proud owner of an iPod Nano.

These five runners-up receive our first six-word memoir book, Not Quite What I Was Planning: Six-Word Memoirs by Writers Famous & Obscure.

“It’s not that kind of diet.” (Alison Carey)
“Egg cream is a dirty lie.” (Marcia Gaye)
“About that fire in the kitchen…” (Lauran Strait)
“Coffee, like love, is bitterly addictive” (Laurie Schmidt)
“It’s best just to eat it.” (Patti Williams)

The contest is over, but you can still submit six-word stories on your food life, for consideration for a possible, future book. If you’re not on the SMITH newsletter list, sign up—it’s the most sure-fire way not to miss out on new story projects, books, contests, and parties. Thanks to the great folks at Chow and all the writers who participated in A Life in Bites—SMITH loves you.

Here are 44 more six-word food stories that make us want to be a better chef.

Sex after making hot sauce—ouch.
Grilled cheese: the band-aid of food.
Don’t lie about using cake mix.
Wasting away again in weinerville.
Literal fish, in the literal sea.
Steal my Mercedes, not my fries.
Homemade cookies are worth every minute.
Brownies called, I answered the phone.
Little lambs led to the kitchen.
Taught to chop. Prefers to julienne.
It’s not you. It’s the garlic.
Hot sauce flows while cooking nude.
No garlic? No butter? No dinner.
By bread we are all united.
Kitchen never stays clean for long.
Zagat, Michelin? Family gives me stars.
Smoke alarm equals time for dinner.
Heaping helping of au gratin goodness.
Every meal starts by frying onions.
Worlds apart from mom’s dried turkey.
Hungry for love, settle for chocolate.
Nothing brings people together like pizza.
Still hide peas under mashed potatoes.
I eat anything on a stick.
An unfed guest is like blasphemy.
Sometimes one ripe strawberry is enough.
Threw spaghetti at wall; some stuck.
Lick, nibble, bite, suck, swallow, savor.
I want to taste it all.
Never, ever say no to pie.
Truffle taste on Ramen Noodle budget.
Mom’s apron became mine, now daughter’s.
Fresh bread is an edible orgasm.
My watermelon life: cool, juicy, inscrutable.
Totally whipped by my chef husband.
I’ll just start my diet tomorrow…
Scrambled … fried… the recipe of life.
I’ll have the pastrami extra fatty.
Patience learned watching Cheerios eaten individually.
Wishing recipes could bluetooth to stove.
Oh Avocado, where for art thou?
They call me cupcake at work.
Food like sex: depends on chef.
I just need one good lick.


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