Raise your hand if you’re tired. That seems to be the current collective, universal state of things. Tiredness knows no creed, no political party, no religion. Tiredness is in the water, it runs to our marrow. And it shows no signs of abating. As the world turns increasingly dark — from here in the U.S.Continue reading “Dispatch | 11.17.19”
There’s a particular genre of food writing that I just love, that always gets me right in the feels: Odes to grocery stores. But not just regular, American-style supermarkets, with glaring lights, wide aisles and wild shoppers. Definitely not places Whole Foods, or Fairway, or Wegman’s, or even the Jewel-Oscos or Associateds of the world.Continue reading “Signs of Life Well-Lived in Columbus, Ohio”
This week has felt like a decade. Between the midterm elections (I worked election night in the newsroom), yet another mass shooting, RBG breaking some ribs and near-continuous attacks on the free press, I’ve been high-key anxious all week. There’s been some light, though: I finally got to write and publish a story about aContinue reading “Dispatch | 11.10.18”
Richard Olney’s “Simple French Food” is a beautiful book, but written in a bitingly straightforward fashion with no sympathy for your lack of skills.
When I was a freshman in college, I was a little shit. I wanted to trade my former good student, Sunday school volunteer life for something else. College was a chance to be a different person, right? But I overcorrected: I was arrogant, entitled, cocky.
In a moment of hilarious buffoonery, that changed for the better.
I’m not a gym person and I hate joining groups, but for the first time since moving back to Chicago (when I was at my heaviest, 250 lbs.), I’ve plateaued. With that in mind, I finally motivated myself to do something I’ve always wanted to do but was scared to: Signed up for a hipContinue reading “Finding center”
I’ve been taking a step back. Breathing. Calming my racing thoughts. Chilling the fuck out.
A few weeks ago, a friend of Ian’s sent him a care package of a dozen Georgia peaches. Wrapped in thin, crinkly sheafs of white paper, nestled in individual foam nooks, the bounty of summer fruit looked just like the emoji, sun-gold, fragrant and chipper in their little homes. Upon opening the package, I couldn’tContinue reading “Summer + Brown butter-poached peaches”
“Queer, tender, true. I like those things.” – Gabrielle Hamilton, Mind of a Chef
A look at the stuff that’s fueled my week.