Opinion Smoking was my peace. Now, cooking is.

Many of my favorite childhood memories are smoke-filled. Whether it was a special Sunday dinner at a steakhouse chain or eavesdropping on grown folks’ conversation at cookouts, cigarettes and pipes were there. These were the days when you could light up inside restaurants instead of being banished outside. The years when smoking in an airplane got you a designated section on it not a police escort off of it. Children wedged candy cigarettes between their fingers and tried to blow smoke with the powdered sugar. Different times.