The Table Still Holds: A Storm in Lahaina and the Work of Beginning Again
After days of relentless rain in Lahaina, we found ourselves sitting outside again, propping a handheld on the table and making do. Not everyone on the island had that option. But sometimes, even imperfectly, the table is the one thing that still holds.
On the Daily: Should We Stop for Wine?
A storm on Maui, a flashback to the fires, and the bottle of Tignanello that made the night better.
On the Daily: The Occasional Whopper
By the time we reached the airport for the flight back to Maui, I was a little hungry and a little restless. So I did something I almost never do.I bought a Whopper Jr. with cheese.
On the Daily: March 3, 2026: Midweek, We Feast
Wildly excessive for a Tuesday. And exactly right. The seven-day rhythm of restaurant life doesn’t always leave room for family dinners. Last night, we reclaimed one.
On the Daily: March 2, 2026
I eat at Sale Pepe almost every single day. A forkful at the pass. A bowl before service. A slice after. So when a new menu still makes me excited, it’s a real thing. And in a world that feels unstable, there is something grounding about building a table aligned with season, intention, and restraint.
Day 5: Okra (or Love as Invention)
What does it mean to belong to a food you do not love? For me, that food is okra.
Day 4: Salt Pork (or Love as Preservation)
Before refrigeration, there was smoke. Before abundance, there was salt. Preservation meant survival.
Day 3: Greens (or Love as Restraint)
The work of tending them cannot be rushed. This is love as restraint.
Day 2: Cornbread (or Love as Grounding)
Cornbread as we know it emerged at the intersection of Indigenous knowledge, African ingenuity, and brutal necessity. For some it was accompaniment. For others, survival.
Day 1: Rice (or Love as Survival)
Rice did not arrive in America by accident. It arrived intentionally—carried as knowledge, memory, and a wager on survival.
How To Love: 28 Days of Black Food, Memory and Practice
February is a map. Already plotted. Already planned. This month, I’m setting the table for 28 days of Black food, memory, and practice—one food at a time.
How To Begin, Gently: Day 31- How You Begin, Now
You are no longer at the beginning of the year. You are standing squarely inside of it now.
How To Begin, Gently: Day 30- What You Owe
You may owe love. But you get to choose how to love.
How To Begin, Gently: Day 24- What You Hold
Some days you ask how to begin. Others, you wonder how to hold. How to hold your own life together while showing up for the people, places, and responsibilities that depend on you.
How To Begin, Gently: Day 18, What You Reach For
Before hunger. Before clarity. Before the day asks anything of you, there is the first thing you reach for. This is a meditation on readiness, ritual, and beginning—gently.
How To Begin, Gently: Day 9, Eat Something Warm
This is not advice. This is a baseline.
When the weather shifts, your appetite knows before your mind does. You start reaching for warmth — not aspirational food, not “healthy” food, just something that steadies you. Across cultures and climates, people turn to soups, broths, and stews when things feel cold or uncertain, not out of nostalgia, but necessity. Warm food slows the day down. It settles the nervous system. It reminds you that you are still here, still feeding yourself, still paying attention. Sometimes, that’s enough.
How To Begin, Gently: Day 10, Fine, Good, Enough
You’re good. That’s the word most people use. It sounds capable. Contained. It keeps the day moving without inviting concern. But good has a texture. You can feel it in the way you eat standing up even when there’s a chair right there, in the constant management of yourself so nothing spills over. Being good keeps things running — but it isn’t the same as being fed. Sometimes the work is simply to stop long enough to sit down, use both hands, and take the edge off.
How To Begin, Gently: Day 4- What You Reach For
What you reach for is shaped by the life you’re living.
How To Begin Gently, Day 3: What’s In Your Pantry?
The table is already set- for a good year, a good moment, a good meal- if you use what you have on hand.
How to Begin Again, Gently: Day 2- The Table Is Already Set: Using What You Already Have For a Good Year, Meal, and Life
An essay on using what you already have- at the table, in work, and in life- plus a simple lentil dish for the new year.