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 …
During a recent visit to New York City, we stayed at the 122-year old Algonquin Hotel. We’ve stayed at the hotel once before, however, this time, the hotel revealed its historical past through the Blue Bar menu and a chance meeting with Hamlet, the cat. …
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.
“Nature, time, and patience are three great physicians.” – Henry George Bohn On a recent evening, I had the pleasure of going to the Atlanta Botanical Gardens. I always forget what makes me come back, time and time again. I have been a member for …
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, …
It turns out that this year’s color is peach fuzz. We at ODB have always liked this range of colors- peach, salmon, rose, blush… You can see it throughout our website. Unlike oranges, peaches come in a rainbow of flavors. What’s your favorite?
Everything’s been just peachy 👈🏿 Take a look.
Each visit to New York has always included popping into a sweet shop for a little bit of chocolate, pastry or cookie. So much so that I’ve contemplated writing a little black book on sweets alone in NYC. Some desserts trend so much that there …
Last spring, I was honored to be an artist in residence in the Pullman neighborhood in our beautiful city of Chicago. I initially had made plans to map the many blocks around my space as I considered the ravages of the built environment in the …
Ăn Quả Nhớ Kẻ Trồng Cây (When eating a fruit, think of the person who planted the tree)
a Vietnamese proverb
Seeds of curiosity were vigorously planted by my parents. While their curiosities often take different forms, I grew up in a home filled with questions: Wonder where they’re going? How can we make tempura at home right now (pre-internet)? What are the effects on cultures based on proximity to the equator? What do you think that is on that woman’s plate? If we walk down this narrow street, where will it take us? What do you think we just ate?
This special sauce of adventure, curiosity, and enthusiasm was evident when we whisked off to DC two years ago because a show on Afro-Atlantic art of the Americas was closing that very weekend. Or flashback to yesterday when my mom decided at 2am to come to Chicago later that day so we could see the Faith Ringgold show before it closes next week. Did I mention that she was here for 24 hours? It was glorious.
We did many things that day. We saw art. We had tea. We dreamt.
We ate.
Dish after dish served family-style warmed our bodies and fed our memories. My mom shared what she ate during her trip in Vietnam and we responded with fond throwbacks of culinary adventures in Oakland where I worked for several years. Phở of all types redolent of lime, culantro, lemongrass, basil, and rich broth came up over and over. And talk of the heady combinations of sweet-and-sour eggplant, pork and seafood, and bánh mì energized the conversation.
We just returned from an eight day trip to El Salvador. There was so much to see and do in this Central American country which we’ve never visited before, but are already making plans to return. This post will concentrate on our time in San …
