Life Lately
Fine dining isn’t at a crossroads because of Noma. We are.
Since the announcement of Noma closing, several articles have been written touting its accolades, innovation, and alleged toxic workplace. These discussions spawn nostalgia and clickbait headlines, but they aren’t focused on what I believe is the most important fact—Noma closing isn’t changing the food world that much.
2023 ins and outs, and some newsletter updates
"Ins" and "outs" felt less serious that resolutions and more realistic. Or maybe I just want to be Gen Z—playful with language instead of succumbing to the millennial urge to take everything very seriously.
Does wedding food matter?
What happens if wedding food isn't an experience? What if the food is just that—food? Sustaining, necessary, straightforward food. What sort of memory do guests now have about a wedding...about our wedding?
Y'all told me to watch "The Bear" so I did. Let’s talk about it.
Anyone who has worked in kitchens knows that this is not a pretty world, and this show brings that messy reality to the masses in an honest way. But a few things are missing that keep me from loving it.
In July, food radiates possibility.
💡After a hiatus to get my mental health in order, I'm back!Every summer, I remember the Electric Daisy Carnival. It’s a three-day rave that used to take place in Los Angeles but has since moved to Las Vegas, and as the name suggests, it's
A culinary wrap on 2021—with cake, of course.
This year was just as dumpster fiery as the last. But we all love a good end of year wrap so here are my reflections on food and life in 2021. I'm also giving y'all recommendations for books, podcasts, and recipes that will pique your interest
Which drawer are the forks in?
I've been back from California for a few days now and still in a funk. For the first time since I can remember, I have jet lag. I'm sleeping past 1 a.m. and spending what precious little winter daylight there is in a haze. Yesterday
Finally doin’ it: Tattoos, tarts, and a newsletter.
At the first restaurant I ever cooked at, every single cook (not an exaggeration) had a tattoo somewhere on their body that said “doin’ it.” Each person adapted the look and feel to their liking. Cooks were doin’ it in cursive, melting block letters, black ink, icy blue ink, behind