I regularly contribute original stories to print and digital magazines. Explore my recent work below.
On the Rise: Three SF Bay Area Breadmakers Talk About the Relationship Between Their Breads and Their Home, in Ambrosia
Volume 5 takes us to the San Francisco Bay Area, the 49-square-mile dining capital of the west coast known on the surface for gold rushes, Silicon Valley, cable cars, and coastal fog. This issue unearths the history of the region’s eating culture, from the origins of the fortune cookie to the impeccably manicured gardens of its most eccentric chefs and the reason slices of sourdough bread sell for $8 a pop.
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In a Sea of Sameness, Vancouver's Kissa Tanto Dares To Dismantle Your Comfort Zone, in Chefsfeed
Chinatown, Vancouver. A lilac neon sign marks the spot on an otherwise dim block. Venture upstairs, and it’s as if you’ve crossed over into a Murakami novel (the homage is, in fact, intentional), with an undercurrent of jazz among the voices in the dining room, a bar perfectly suited to imagining lonely characters nursing a mournful whiskey or two, pondering their vanished true love. Read more
The Best Things About Dining Alone, in Chefsfeed
Restaurants allow travelers and transplants to find a home in a new city, to be among people, take shelter from the rain, be cared for, to be fed. After a decade spent living in three major American cities and traveling to a handful of European ones, I have fallen in love with dining in all of them — alone. The practice of wandering a city solo, witnessing the spectacle of urban life, free of social constraints and obligations, has a name: it goes by the French term flânerie. It’s a neutral activity, in which you are an impartial onlooker. But as you get to know a city, the practice evolves into letting yourself be intentionally drawn into a place. Read more
Making the Case for Danish Dessert, in Chefsfeed
The days and nights of wintertime Copenhagen aren't terribly different -- days are gray, nights are black. Days are cold, nights are colder. The real difference lies in what you eat. During the day, Copenhagen aligns with the rest of the world: there’s avocado toast, pastries, smoked fish and cured meat. There are even tacos. Nights are different: nights are for Nordic food. Nights taste like earth; deep and chalky, rich, gamey. Nights are for a minimum of four courses. Nights mean bread and hefty servings of protein. Nights — especially in the dead of winter — mean dessert. Read more