Across cultures and throughout history, food has played a central role in healing, both physically and spiritually.

From the medicinal uses of herbs in Indigenous traditions to the balanced, holistic approach of Ayurvedic practices, ancient knowledge surrounding the healing power of food is rich and varied.

For centuries, before the advent of refrigeration, global supply chains, and industrial farming, people relied on what the land provided during each season.

In a world where convenience often trumps consciousness, it’s easy to lose sight of the choices we make each day about how we live, eat, and care for ourselves.

In recent years, the concept of intuitive eating has gained traction as a holistic approach to nourishing the body and mind.

Rooted in principles of self-care, body awareness, and mindful eating, intuitive eating offers a counterpoint to the diet culture that often emphasizes restriction, control, and external rules.

In the vast and intricate web of life beneath our feet, mycorrhizal fungi stand out as one of the most vital yet often overlooked contributors to plant health, soil fertility, and sustainability.

Without community, building a sustainable future is exhausting and impossible. We need each other to build a sustainable future.

I’ve been intuitively boycotting Instapots since they started becoming wildly popular.

I’ll probably pick one up someday — secondhand — out of curiosity, but I feel like we rush through so much in our lives.

In the quiet hum of kitchens around the world, a revolution is brewing.

This revolution isn’t powered by advanced technologies or futuristic gadgets but by an ancient, humble process: the art of making sourdough bread.

White soup, also known as afia efere, originated from the Efik tribe in southern part of Nigeria, which is the culture of the Cross River State Indigenes.

In 1987, the state was divided into two and the other part is now called Akwa Ibom State. The Efik tribe is known for their interesting and rich cultural heritage when it comes to cooking, dancing, language and dress.

The ruins of my garden had been visible from the deck for some time, but I had not yet ventured outside. It was time to get out there and acknowledge the ravages of time. To neglect, weep, and get to work — as my grandma used to say — to formulate a rebuilding plan.

My husband helped, but he wasn’t a gardener.

He knew where everything was, but it was a jumble in there. WWII paraphernalia rubbed shoulders with broken clocks, radios, mysterious machinery.

In “Gramma Cookies, Midnight TV, and the Case of the Missing Crabapples” Recipes & Roots founder, Shara Cooper reminisces about the role her grandparents played in her childhood.

Robin Wall Kimmerer’s Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge, and the Teachings of Plants has, since its publication in 2013, transcended the boundaries of traditional environmental literature to become a cornerstone in conversations about ecology, sustainability, and the human relationship with the natural world.

A blend of memoir, scientific insight, and Indigenous storytelling, the book offers profound lessons that ripple far beyond its pages, shaping both individual lives and collective movements.

Recipes & Roots is a destination for discovery.