Journal
January 1, 1970
On Potluck and the Small Luck We Share
Summer’s almost over, which felt like the perfect excuse to get friends together. Yesterday I dragged a table up to the rooftop garden — the sky looked like a fading film still, with the last bit of light falling across everyone’s faces.
April 27, 2026
Farm to Table: What Happens When You Actually Cook What You Pick
I've said "farm to table" probably a hundred times. I don't think I actually understood what it meant until I ate a tomato warm from the sun, minutes after picking it myself.