Natalie Jabbar

Jul 22, 2024 | memoirland.substack.com | Liza Katz Duncan |Natalie Jabbar |Mike McClelland |Melody Glenn

Welcome to Memoir Land—a newsletter edited by , now featuring four verticals:Memoir Monday, a weekly curation of the best personal essays from around the web brought to you by Narratively, The Rumpus,  Granta, Guernica, Oldster Magazine, Literary Hub, Orion Magazine, The Walrus, and Electric Literature. Below is this week’s curation. First Person Singular, featuring original personal essays. Recently I reprinted “Without Repentance, No Forgiveness” by .

Jul 21, 2024 | salon.com | Natalie Jabbar

Every year on the day my father died, I get my car washed at a beloved Bay Area spot. Turning off El Camino Real in Mountain View, I pull into Lozano Brushless Car Wash. When we used to enter the forest green girders of this mid-century modern space-agey car wash, my father was present, wholly mine for a magical half hour. As an adult, I kept this ritual: I drive up to the attendant and ask for a full-service wash and vacuum.

Jul 21, 2024 | yahoo.com | Natalie Jabbar

Every year on the day my father died, I get my car washed at a beloved Bay Area spot. Turning off El Camino Real in Mountain View, I pull into Lozano Brushless Car Wash. When we used to enter the forest green girders of this mid-century modern space-agey car wash, my father was present, wholly mine for a magical half hour. As an adult, I kept this ritual: I drive up to the attendant and ask for a full-service wash and vacuum.

Jul 8, 2023 | salon.com | Natalie Jabbar

In every small Middle Eastern store or international grocery we walk into at home in the San Francisco Bay Area or anywhere across the country, my mother and I search for Saboun Nabulsi. We weave through narrow aisles packed with cans of fava beans and jars of pickled eggplant, past the giant plastic tubs brimming with olives, the bags of pita bread spilling from the bottom shelves.

Mar 24, 2023 | wellandgood.com | Natalie Jabbar

Ten years ago I received an email from a friend that read: “Any interest in coming to vegan philosophy brunch at my house? It’ll be fun! :)” I was wary. Although I had been a vegetarian since my first year of college, I hadn’t gone all the way yet. I still considered dairy a close friend. As a frequent baker, I had recently gone through a choux pastry (aka cream puff) stage, piping my profiteroles and eclairs full of vanilla bean cream.