Abe Opincar's life in California, Kyoto, Jerusalem, Paris, Istanbul and Tijuana, is called up by flavors that bring back the moments and places and people he broke bread with and loved. He remembers leaving his wife the night he baked chicken, being criticized by French hosts for not properly eating ripe peaches with a knife and fork, eggs sunny side up and first sex, cornmeal mush and his dotty aunt, garlic and his father's love. We might look at a photograph or a memento. Opincar's recollections are summoned by food.