Loving Yams by Cara Marks She wanted to love the things he hated – IPA, jogging, yams, Plato – as a faux facet of moving on. She stopped straightening her hair. Brushed on fat red lipstick and never shut off the espresso machine; gardened in a mauve tunic and goulashes, braless; baked cheesecakes and danced to Paul Desmond and Wu Tang in the kitchen at 3am, when he’d have been straight P.O.ed and bedheaded.