When I first moved to Chicago, I worked to create pathways for folks who found it extremely difficult to find work in our city. It boggles the mind to see how the deck was stacked against the most marginalized of us. My office sat within …
On the eve of our country’s Independence Day, I, like many other Americans, find myself reflecting on what we mean by the words independence, liberty, and freedom. Just two weeks ago, we were celebrating Juneteenth. Almost a century separates these two commemorative moments (and all …
In 2014, I invited folks to join me for an analog-digital sensation, an Instameet. Remember those? Instead of just taking photos by yourself and sharing them in those little IG squares, you’d invite anyone who’d like to meet in person, say hello in real life, and click away in the same place creating collaboratively.
Living in such a beautiful city, I chose the Chicago Cultural Center as our meeting spot for its grand spaces, excellent views inside and out, concerts, exhibitions, Chicago history, its central location, accessible public transportation, and its exquisite Tiffany Dome.
I brought Firecakes Donuts and Intelligentsia Coffee. We are in Chicago after all.
150 people said they would join my mom and me. One person showed up.
This stranger chatted, laughed, and shared her stories. We found out that we had a mutual love of hot sauce, bikes!, coffee, travel, EATING food, and our transplanted city. She described herself as an eater with less experience in the kitchen. What she still has is boundless curiosity, persistence, creativity, a commitment to equity, and the kindest heart.
Later in our friendship and then publicly, she talked about losing her corporate job and wondering what was next.
Over the years, she often asked me for advice as she explored becoming a food professional. I said then as I say now: there are so many paths open to us. Margaret Pak started learning how to cook professionally in 2015/2016.
With her husband, Vinod Kalathil, she now co-owns a Keralan restaurant called Thattu. It was a 2020 James Beard Foundation Semifinalist for Best New Restaurant in the country, 2020 Food & Wine Best New Restaurant, NYT’s Restaurant List 2023 of the 50 places in the UNITED STATES, and a 2024 The New York Times “Best Restaurants in Chicago” amongst many other accolades.
More recently, we were able to see her in action at the James Beard Chef & Restaurant Awards in 2022 where she and her team plated countless tastes of one her signature dishes.
Again, just two weeks ago, she was serving delicious seafood cakes at the 2024 JBF Media Awards. In-between, of course, there have been coffees, visits, and innumerable laughs.
Chef Pak is many things: restauranteur, small business owner, innovator, pay advocate, and storyteller. I’m pleased to say that she’s also a fantastic friend.
Here’s to pursuing our wildest dreams!
I recently spent an afternoon with a herd of bison, up close and personal, as they grazed on the grassy plain and huddled together with their small calves. It was mind-boggling to think that they were living not far from Chicago, and some compassionate people …
Today we lovingly poured our ruby-colored red drink into champagne flutes that had been purchased with my mom nearly two decades ago. We toasted our ancestors and to love as we reveled in the spiciness of sorrel. It is celebratory. We nibble on boiled peanuts …
We’ll always have Paris. Half of Onion Dip for Breakfast used to call the City of Lights home when she was a young, wide-eyed student soaking up every drop. This city has so much to offer from its aromatic markets, art in and out of buildings, ordered gardens, culinary gems to the best people-watching. Our roving reporter is there now and sending us images that have our mouths watering. Such a good eye, non? What are your favorite things to eat, drink, see, hear or do there?
We’re making more room for celebrating. There’s enough going on in the world that needs little reminding of how cruel it can be. So we’re having moments to toast to good times, blow out candles, dance here and there, and laugh. Laugh so hard that …
I am not an optimist. When I tell folks that, they rarely believe me. Surely, you jest. But, but, but you’re so happy…
I’ve always armored myself with a fair amount of pragmatism and pessimism, steeling myself as much as one can for the other shoe to drop. It’s also been a reminder of what’s in my control and what is not.
During this morning’s family book club, we zigzagged from the Harlem Renaissance, the Met’s new show, oppression, delicious food and cooking, Gaza, men and women of letters, celebrations, slavery, storytelling, undeniable brilliance, legacy, homelessness, family traveling together, music, leisure, joy, and more. This web of words is usual for us, pulling and tugging on threads to make sense of the tensions and alignments of it all.
There’s always a post-reflection for me: what an excellent point so-and-so made! How does that argument jibe with mine? What will I carry with me? I’m always buoyed. Our club is filled with those who see the sun behind the storm and spring after a dreary winter.
Not long after our rousing conversation, I stepped outside to capture some images of our beautiful magnolia tree just as a neighbor walked up with words of praise. “It’s nothing short of magnificent,” he said. I agreed and let the word flow from my lips. Magnificent. We continued, “I was worried that it wouldn’t blossom after our freezing weather and late snow. But here it is, looking more beautiful than ever.”
And out of these flowers, came this delight. Imagine a vanilla cake soaked with magnolia syrup and brightened by tart berries, tangy fig powder, cool cream, and bright basil from the kitchen garden.
When I was a kid, there was no shortage of new Easter dresses, patent leather Mary Janes with short white socks, and frilly bonnets to mark the holiday. Think pastel pink, yellow, and green linen with delicately embroidered details. Oh, and there were Easter speeches, …
