Tomatoes from the farmers’ market that look much better than they taste.

It’s August, and that means it’s officially tomato season. TBH, I’m not totally convinced. I took home a gorgeous-looking yellow heirloom from my local farmers' market last weekend, and it turned out to be an utter disappointment. In fact, it was one of the worst tomatoes I’ve ever had—somehow devoid of any moisture or flavor. Still, I remain comforted that the good good tomatoes are imminent, so I don’t mind being patient just a little longer.

Despite this very sad encounter, my husband brought home a tomato a few weeks ago that was so inexplicably good I felt like I had cheated. We ate it for dinner, along with crusty bread and a variety of dips, cheeses, and other accompaniments. You may know this meal as “Girl Dinner” thanks to the 2023 New York Times article that declared any unfussy, uncooked, and assembled collection of ingredients as such. In my house, we call this “picnic dinner,” whether it’s eaten in the living room or Prospect Park, and it’s a pretty regular occurrence. That particular evening, we had stopped at Greene Grape Provisions in Fort Greene for picnic dinner items, and—along with a loaf of bread, a container of roasted artichokes, some olives, tinned anchovies, and a hunk of goat Gouda—I picked up a container of toum, a garlicky whipped dip with Lebanese roots.

This deceptively simple condiment shares a likeness to aioli, but it’s garlic - not eggs - that creates a stable emulsion. Toum, which simply means garlic in Arabic, is nothing more than garlic, oil, lemon, salt, and a little water that have been pureed in a food processor. The key is to process the garlic first, then add the oil very slowly while the garlic continues to process. This can be a little tedious, but a slow and steady drizzle is essential for achieving the desired fluffy, whipped texture.

Back home, I slathered the toum on crusty bread and topped it with slices of fresh tomato sprinkled with a touch of flaky sea salt. The pungent garlic was mellowed by the sweetness of the fresh tomato, creating a balance of flavors that was truly sublime. Now, I’m not here to tell you I discovered the amazing combination that is garlic and tomato (shout out to the Aztecs!), but it did make me wonder why more people weren’t swapping mayonnaise for toum on summer tomato sandwiches. Mayonnaise certainly has its virtues and a tomato-mayo sandwich is undeniably delicious, but toum unlocks a whole different dimension of flavor. If you’re like me (a monster) and you are always looking for more ways to infuse brininess into everything you consume, may I suggest a toum-tomato-anchovy toast? It is not for the faint of heart, but it may be for you if you appreciate a very savory foil to any amount of sweetness.

Toum is very easy to make and requires little more than a food processor, a steady hand, a bit of patience, and four ingredients that you probably already have at home. You can buy store-bought versions at specialty grocers and at Trader Joe's, where it’s labeled as the very on-the-nose “Garlic Spread-Dip,” but if you have 20 minutes, I encourage you to try the recipe below. In Lebanon, it’s served as an accompaniment for grilled meats and eaten with warm pita. It works brilliantly anywhere you’d normally use mayonnaise: as a dip for French fries, mixed into canned tuna, as a marinade for fish, or spread onto almost any sandwich. I also love it whipped into scrambled eggs. As soon as tomatoes are truly in season, I know I’ll be eating them on repeat with crusty bread and lots of creamy, delicious toum.

Toum (adapted from Maureen Abood in Food & Wine)

1 cup peeled garlic cloves

1 tsp kosher salt

2 cups canola or vegetable oil, divided

2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice

2 tablespoons cold water

Add the garlic and salt to a food processor and process until well chopped. Pause to scrape down the sides of the processor as needed.

While the food processor is running, slowly drizzle in 1/2 cup oil. Resist the urge to pour the oil out quickly and allow a slow, thin stream to incorporate into the garlic until a creamy sauce has formed, about 5 minutes. Pause as needed to scrape down the sides of the processor.

Once again, with the processor running, slowly add the remaining 1 1/2 cups of oil to the sauce. Continue to drizzle in a slow, steady stream until all the oil is added. The sauce should get fluffier as it continues to be processed.

Add the lemon juice and water to the sauce and process for another minute or so.

Refrigerate in an airtight container for up to three weeks.

A story in four acts.

There are just two more events in the downtown Kitchen Arts & Letters series. Don’t miss out!

August 13

Where the World Eats: Food Markets in NYC moderated by Nathan Thornburgh with Jeff Feinberg, Nathalie Matos, and John Wang

August 19

Summer in the City: Hot Takes & Cool Treats moderated by Klancy Miller with Fany Gerson, Farideh Sadeghin, and Nicholas Morgenstern

It’s been a tough few weeks. ICE is killing our neighbors, the U.S. is once again bombing Iran, and wildfires in Canada turned the sky a toxic shade of orange for days. Oh, and parasitic lettuce has caused a national outbreak of explosive diarrhea. It’s really been a lot, and I think most of us are exhausted by the smoke, the heat, and the grief of more lives lost.

Needless to say, my heart has been heavy, and every time I’ve tried to sit down and write, I keep picturing Joan Sebastián Guerrero’s partner and their 3-year-old daughter. I’ve been holding my own child just a little tighter this week.

I’ve wanted to write about the Kitchen Arts & Letters summer event series I have been helping produce, which has felt nothing short of miraculous. It’s been a balm to the relentlessly bleak news cycle and a profound delight in its own right.

Two weeks ago, I experienced one of the greatest thrills of my career as I introduced a panel on New York City food history featuring food writer Ruth Reichl, chef and restaurateur Alexander Smalls, and historian and author Jane Ziegelman in conversation with New York Times food journalist Julia Moskin. The conversation traversed centuries, moving from Jewish immigrants in Lower East Side tenements during the late 1800s to the French Pavilion at the 1939 World's Fair before arriving at Café Beulah, the pioneering restaurant Alexander Smalls opened in 1994 that introduced diners to an elevated Southern African American dining experience.

“Was New York City ready for it?” one audience member asked.

Alexander turned to Ruth. “Were they, Ruth?” he asked with a sly smile, noting that the restaurant’s success was due in no small part to the rave review she wrote for The New York Times shortly after Café Beulah opened.

Ruth smiled wistfully and nodded. She paused, perhaps remembering the bread basket at Café Beulah, which she had described in her review as “the finest collection of corn bread and biscuits in the city.”

Here is the full review from The New York Times, July 22, 1994.

Cafe Beulah takes you right to the country. It is so cozy and comfortable you find yourself listening for the chirping of crickets and imagining that if you stepped outside, a friendly dog would wander up and sniff your fingers.

A basket of Beulah’s breads is the best way to prolong the illusion: this is the finest collection of corn bread and biscuits in the city. It goes well with a bottle of Voodoo beer.

Beulah’s specialty is Low Country cooking; big food with big flavors. Baked ham is drenched with praline bourbon sauce, the smoky ham edging up against a painfully sweet sauce until your mouth is vibrating. The flavors are echoed in the lemon candied yams on the side.

There is a mean fried baby chicken with barbecued red beans. Hominy grits with smothered shrimp is so soft and soothing it is like savory cereal. And who else serves an appetizer of okra and barbecued shrimp, or a salad combining cabbage and apricots?

Best of all, this food is reasonable. If you stay away from the expensive house specials, you can eat a big meal for a price that makes you especially happy that Cafe Beulah has arrived on 19th Street.

I have to admit that when I invited Alexander Smalls and Ruth Reichl to join this panel, I had no idea this review even existed. I knew Alexander as a restaurateur, chef, and culinary historian who had opened (and closed) some of the city’s most important restaurants, including The Cecil in Harlem, which Esquire named the best restaurant in America in 2014. Sadly, I never had the chance to eat there before it shuttered in 2017. As a longtime Harlem resident whose contributions are woven into the neighborhood’s culinary fabric, I knew he could speak to the evolution of dining in Harlem in the decades following the Great Migration.

Ruth, meanwhile, had spent years chronicling New York’s restaurants as The New York Times restaurant critic in the 1990s. As both a critic and a lifelong New Yorker, I knew she would bring her own perspective on the city’s evolving food culture.

That unexpected moment of connection between Ruth and Alexander was so moving because they were reflecting on a shared piece of New York City history that each had helped shape. Had Alexander not opened Café Beulah in 1994, New York might not have experienced fine-dining African American cuisine in that moment. Had Ruth not eaten there and written so enthusiastically about it, the restaurant’s trajectory may have been very different.

As an event curator, it was one of those rare moments you can’t orchestrate but feel so grateful to be part of.

There have been several moments since this series started when I have felt truly lucky just to be in the room. There are still five events left, and I'd love for you to be in the room with us before the series comes to a close.

All events are at 111 Broadway. Doors open at 6 pm, with a talk from 6:30-7:30pm, followed by a book signing.

July 23

The Space Between Tables: Third Culture Cooking and Belonging moderated by Bettina Makalintal with Stacey Mei Yan Fong, Hawa Hassan, Zaynab Issa, and Erik Kim

July 29

NYC Classics: Restaurants That Define the City moderated by Joshua David Stein with Niki Russ Federman, Vijay Kumar, and Wilson Tang

August 6

Chinatown Table: Food, Culture, and Community in New York City moderated by Grace Young with Calvin Eng, Kaitlin Leung, and Annie Shi

August 13

Where the World Eats: Food Markets in NYC moderated by Nathan Thornburgh with Jeff Feinberg and John Wang

August 19

Summer in the City: Hot Takes & Cool Treats with Fany Gerson, Nicholas Morgenstern, and Farideh Sadeghin

It’s been a busy few weeks, and I have thought many times about stopping what I’m doing to write something here. But with projects and deadlines this month, inertia kept me from slowing down. I’m not complaining; quite the opposite, in fact. I am thrilled.

It’s been almost exactly one year since I was laid off from my public programming job at The James Beard Foundation. It was a good job that let me work on something I really loved, and I got to do it with really nice people. Besides the low salary and the very hierarchical organizational structure, I didn’t have many complaints while working there.

Yet there was always this sense of uneasiness I carried around with me, something that felt like the space between indigestion and an undercurrent of dread. Maybe because it took me so many years to find my professional footing, I had this low-grade anxiety that at any moment I might lose my job. So when I did, it wasn’t that surprising. It felt in some ways like the inevitable conclusion.

Still, it sucked. Apart from losing my income and my health insurance, I really struggled with losing an important piece of my identity. After many years of working in culinary programming at the Museum of Food and Drink (MOFAD) and then at JBF, if I wasn’t doing the thing I loved at a prestigious organization, then who was I?

In the days and weeks after I (and 9 of my colleagues) were laid off, I felt tremendous support from peers I had collaborated with throughout my career. The outpouring of calls, texts, and emails helped soften the sting, and after a few weeks, I felt energized and hopeful. I was going to get another, far more exciting and lucrative job, and I would finally - FINALLY - be paid my worth.

I had many calls, coffees, and interviews. I got really close several times. I was immediately rejected only moments after getting my hopes up. I was told that it’s just a really tough market right now. I applied to jobs I couldn’t picture myself doing and felt my center of gravity shift wayward. The supportive texts and emails from former colleagues eventually stopped, and everything felt really still and quiet. I was home, sitting in my own silence, unsure of what my next move was.

I don’t want to get into too much detail about what transpired over the next several months that got to me this moment. It’s not even totally clear to me, but I know it started with a little tough love from a good friend. Over a drink one evening, he reminded me that I had plenty of skills and connections I could be proactively capitalizing on instead of —or even while — spending so much time scrolling through LinkedIn. There was also a good amount of luck and great timing that led to a few initial projects I started working on. Little by little, things started to fall into place, and sometime in April, it occurred to me that I was ready to deactivate the daily LinkedIn notifications I was subscribed to and fully embrace the freelance career I hadn't even realized I was building.

Just a few weeks ago, I ran into Matt Sartwell, the managing partner of the wonderful Upper East Side culinary bookstore, Kitchen Arts & Letters. He told me he had secured a downtown location for a pop-up satellite shop this summer, with enough space to host a programming series. I went home and put together a proposal.

The series you’ll see below is the result. It has given me the chance to reconnect with so many people I’ve admired and collaborated with throughout my career, while also introducing me to new voices I’m excited to bring into the conversation. More than anything, it reminded me why I love doing this work. I’m incredibly grateful to Matt for trusting me and giving me the freedom to build something that feels both meaningful and joyful. One year later, and I know exactly who I am. This time, I got there on my own.

I hope you’ll join me at Kitchen Arts & Letters at 111 Broadway this summer. All events start with doors opening at 6pm, a talk from 6:30-7:30pm, followed by a book signing.

July 1

What We Carry: Women Writing Food, Grief, and Memory moderated by Helen Rosner with Lisa Donovan, Youngmi Mayer, and Laurie Woolever (SOLD OUT)

July 9

New York Food City moderated by Julia Moskin with Ruth Reichl, Alexander Smalls, and Jane Ziegelman

July 16

Feeding Our People: Comfort, Care, and Home Cooking moderated by Gail Simmons with Dan Pelosi, Katherine Lewin, and Hetty McKinnon

July 23

The Space Between Tables: Third Culture Cooking and Belonging moderated by Bettina Makalintal with Stacey Mei Yan Fong, Hawa Hassan, Zaynab Issa, and Erik Kim

July 29

NYC Classics: Restaurants That Define the City moderated by Joshua David Stein with Niki Russ Federman, Chintan Pandya, and Wilson Tan

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August 6

Chinatown Table: Food, Culture, and Community in New York City moderated by Grace Young with Calvin Eng, Kaitlin Leung, and Annie Shi

August 13

Where the World Eats: Food Markets in NYC moderated by Nathan Thornburgh with Jeff Feinberg and John Wang

August 19

Summer in the City: Hot Takes & Cool Treats with Fany Gerson, Nicholas Morgenstern, and Farideh Sadeghin

A poster of the orginal Broadway production of Cats that hung in our attic throughout my childhood

I have lived at least nine lives since the last time I accompanied my now-deceased father to the Winter Garden, where he would linger by the stage door and occasionally sign Playbills for audience members who mistook him for a cast member. Last week, I celebrated my birthday by seeing Cats on Broadway once again. This revival reimagined the setting as a Jellicle Ball, inspired by the ballroom culture created by queer Black and Latinx communities, a movement with deep historical and cultural significance.

For my money, this framing makes way more sense than a colony of feral cats dancing and singing together in a junkyard. Still, the music is largely unchanged, and when the orchestra began to play the first few electric notes of the overture, I got chills. I wasn’t alone; the audience exploded into claps and screams, and waved Jellicle-branded neon yellow fans. Performers of all body types, races, genders, and expressions kicked, rolled, and vogued their way across the stage. I felt drunk with nostalgia as the familiar lyrics and notes coursed through my veins, and completely ecstatic to be in a room loudly celebrating ballroom, Black and Latinx culture, queerness, and body-ody-ody. "This is what resistance looks like,” I kept thinking to myself. In all of its perfect imperfection, this is the anti-fascist, anti-hate, anti-AI, anti-Ozempic, anti-incel, anti-billionaire incandescent joy we need to meet this moment. And it’s on Broadway, baby!

Branzino Escovitch at Honeysuckle

A few days later, I was in Philadelphia with Roads & Kingdoms at an Anti-ICE Supper Club dinner that I helped coordinate at the restaurant Honeysuckle. Chefs and co-founders Omar Tate and Cybille St. Aude Tate center the Black experience in all of their food, and each dish tells a story of ancestry and diaspora. Omar and Cybille created a lush and beautiful dinner of warm parker house rolls with cultured butter, barbecued sweet potatoes with puffed sorghum, branzino fillets with pickled scotch bonnet peppers, and roasted chicken with candied lemons. The food was delicious, but the most nourishing aspect of the dinner was that all profits went to Juntos, a community-led organization advocating for the human rights of all people, regardless of immigration status. Over heirloom corn cake topped with fresh strawberries, I chatted with the other diners at my table and sipped my cocktail. Nathan Thornburgh, co-founder of R&K, stood up to thank everyone for coming. He looked happy and full, just like the rest of us. It had been a really good night. “We will win,” he assured us, taking in the room. The Anti-ICE dinners are a chance to eat, drink, befriend a stranger, and support a critical cause in a really meaningful way. Plus, we were having fun. “They hate that,” Nathan continued, speaking to our joy. “That’s how we win.”

Upcoming work

If you’ve been paying attention, you’ve probably noticed I have a thing for cocktails and fishies, so it should come as no surprise that my next event on June 17th with The Neighborhood is a celebration of the smoked and cured fish at the heart of Ashkenazi Jewish culture — paired with cocktails. Expect ice-cold martinis and curated drinks from mixologist Pam Wiznitzer, fish from Hank’s Delicatessen and Acme Smoked Fish, a live Klezmer band, and plenty of briny chaos.

I met my husband, Patrick, in 2018. This is not a meet-cute story. The truth is, we matched on OK Cupid. I had been slogging through the apps for several years and was pretty pessimistic about ever meeting someone. Some time late April of that year, I got a really nice message from a guy named Patrick. It was thoughtful, and clear to me that he’d spent some time on it— a big departure from the usual, “what up?” messages I’d grown accustomed to. Best of all, he knew how to spell and seemed to have a firm understanding of the possessive pronoun their vs. there. I know, the bar was LOW. We met, and as I suspected, he was compassionate, smart, and funny, and most importantly, our politics and love of food aligned. I fell in love and married him for all of these reasons. But the real icing on the cake was that Patrick had a car and an Upstate Situation. Anyone who lives in New York City knows how important it is to GTFO now and then. Actual fresh air and wooded areas are a balm for the city-dweller’s frazzled nerves. Because I so wisely married into Patrick’s family, I suddenly had regular access to a spacious home tucked into the far end of a long dirt road in Saugerties, New York. The house, where Patrick’s father lives full-time, faces an ample yard and is surrounded by woods. The summer before I met him, Patrick built an impressive wooden deck with his bare hands, and on clear nights, we can sit out there and see the stars, entirely unbothered by any competing artificial sources of light.

Patrick and I share a love of exploring, and we’ve spent ample time over the years driving along dusty back roads in search of restaurants, book stores, antique shops, farm stands, and more. We’ve traversed much of the region, but certainly not all of it, which is why I present to you a very subjective guide to the Hudson Valley.

This is a list of places I’ve been to — some intentionally, but even more circumstantially. All of them, fortuitously, because these are the places that have made me fall in love with this charming, quiet, and always evolving corner of NY state. I’ll note that I’m not including any recs for Hudson or Woodstock because there's already been more than enough written.

Saugerties, NY

Nestled in the foothills of the Catskill Mountains, Saugerties is known for quirky antique shops and a very good bookstore. The commercial district is essentially two blocks: Main St and Partition St. Stroll along these streets at a leisurely pace in the afternoon, making sure to stop for ice cream and browse for antiques.

Olsen & Company - 11 Jane St, Saugerties, NY 12477/Mon-Sun (closed Wed) 9am-3pm, Friday 5-9pm

Located on a tiny side street just off Partition, this woman-owned cafe is lovely for a breakfast sandwich and a flat white or smoked salt honey latte. Open daily (except Wednesdays), it’s a solid daytime choice. If you’re in the area on a Friday, it’s worth going in for their dinner service, which is only on Fridays from 5-9pm. An all-natural wine list accompanies a tight menu of rotating pastas, weekly vegetable sides, seasonal salads, and a gluten-free breaded chicken thigh with hot honey.

Inquiring Minds Bookstore & Cafe - 200 Main St, Saugerties, NY 12477/ Daily 10am-8pm

This well-curated and welcoming store is a great place to shop as well as relax. Kids will love their cozy play area filled with toys and stuffed animals, and adults will appreciate their selection of coffee drinks and thoughtful staff picks.

Alleyway Ice Cream - 135 Partition St, Saugerties, NY 12477/Daily 1-9pm

As its name implies, this petite ice cream operation is located in a tiny alley just off of Partition Street. Flavors change frequently, but thankfully, the addictive Thai Tea Cookies & Cream and Ube Heath Bar Crunch have been mainstays.

Newberry Artisan Market - 236 Main St, Saugerties NY 12477/ Weds-Mon 11-5pm

I love perusing this local artisan market whenever I’m in need of a gift. Housed inside a former general store, the spacious market now features around 35 local vendors. Offerings are eclectic and often very well priced; I’ve purchased everything from vintage glassware to crystals to upcycled winter hats.

Windmill Wine & Spirits - 89 Partition St, Saugerties, NY 12477/ Monday 12-7pm, Tuesday-Sunday 12-8pm

Windmill Wine & Spirits is where I go when I’m in the mood to try a new bottle. This natural and organic-focused shop has introduced me to some of my favorite wines, including a Slovenian Pet-Nat from Kobal Bajta that I always look for when I’m in town. The knowledgeable and friendly staff are always happy to offer a recommendation or walk you through their well-curated selections.

Palenville, NY

Circle W - 3328 Route 23A, Palenville NY, 12463 / Sun - Fri (closed Tues) 8:30am-4pm, Saturday 8:30am-5pm

Right next to Saugerties is the tiny hamlet of Palenville, best known for its scenic hikes along the vigorous Kaaterskills Falls. Go for the impressive vistas, but make sure to stay for the sandwiches at Circle W, a bustling cafe and provisions shop along Route 23A. Fuel up before a hike with a classic egg-and-cheese, or replenish yourself with a pastrami (or tempeh!) Reuben with housemade red cabbage kraut and Thousand Island on Rye.

Leeds/Round Top

A little less than 20 minutes north of Saugerties sits Leeds, a pastoral hamlet technically located within the town of Catskill, and its neighbor, Round Top, just a few minutes to the west. This sleepy area is home to two of my favorite restaurants in the region.

Julia’s Local - 1507 Hearts Content Rd, Round Top, NY 12473/ Wed-Sun 5-9pm

At Julia’s Local, you’ll be greeted by Julia herself, who runs the small dining room with equal parts warmth and precision while her partner, Henning Nordanger, runs the kitchen. His Scandinavian background informs several of the dishes, like Juniper-cured gravlax made from local trout and traditional Norwegian meatballs. Don’t miss the seasonal produce plate with vegetables grown in the couple’s own garden, and wash it all down with an exceptional Old Fashioned. Make sure to call ahead for a reservation.

Willa’s - 230 Winter Clove Road, Round Top, NY 12473/ Wed-Sun 8am-2pm

Formerly a counter service cafe in nearby Catskill, Willa’s just expanded its daytime-only menu and moved into the charming Glen Falls House hotel in Round Top. I haven’t been to the new sit-down location yet, but if the breakfast sandwiches and pastries are as good as they were, I’m sure Willa’s is bound to be a hit.

Casa Susanna - 810 Co Rd 23B, Leeds, NY 12451/Mon-Sun (closed Wed) 5-10pm, Sat & Sun 10am -2pm

Housed within Camptown, a stylish boutique hotel, Chef Efrén Hernández celebrates regional Mexican cuisine through the lens of the Hudson Valley. With its in-house masa program and dishes that blend the region’s abundance with the flavors of Mexico, Casa Susanna has single-handedly transformed Leeds into a dining destination.

Kingston

Like many towns in the region, Kingston has experienced meaningful growth since the pandemic, when many city-dwellers packed their belongings and headed north. Kingston has always had a colorful, progressive vibe and now boasts some very good restaurants in addition to artsy cafes and quirky independent shops.

Kingston Farmers Market - 285 Wall St. Kingston, NY, 12401/Saturdays May-Nov 9am-1pm

On Saturday mornings from May to November, an impressive array of vendors assemble in the Kingston County Courthouse parking lot for the weekly farmers market. Shop for an abundance of produce plus quality cheeses, meats, breads, seafood, and much more. My kiddo is a big fan of Perry Pickles (pickle on a stick!) and all of us appreciate the live music, which often makes the already pleasant experience that much better.

Fantzye Bagels - 392 Hasbrouck Ave, Kingston, NY 12401/Tues-Sun 7:30am-2:30pm

With all the artisan bagel shops these days, it’s hard to stand out from the pack. With their hand-shaped sourdough bagels, Fantzye does. Go for a classic fried egg, cheese, and kale bagel sandwich, or mix things up with sauteed shiitakes and lemon caper schmear. No matter what, it won’t be ordinary.

Chicory Naturalist - 25 Broadway, Kingston, NY 12401/ Sun-Thurs 11am-5pm, Fri & Sat 11am-6pm

I love taking my kiddo to this nature-themed book and gift shop for their wonderful selection of children’s books. There are plenty of books for grown-ups, as well as unique and thoughtful gifts. If there are any mushroom-heads in your life, this place is a must.

Kingston Wine Co. - 65 BroadwayKingston, NY 12401/Mon-Thurs 12-7pm, Fri - Sun 11am-8pm

Just a few steps away on Broadway is Kingston Wine Co., which has an exceptional selection of low-intervention wines, New York State wines, grower champagnes, and much more. I once fortuitously stumbled into a tasting of Fundy Gin, distilled with sun-dried dulse, and discovered that it was, in fact, possible for me to love a gin.

Half Moon Rondout Cafe - 83 Broadway, Kingston, NY 12401, United States/Mon-Thurs 6am-1pm, Fri-Sun 7am-3:30pm

This little bakery is well known for its donuts, but get the cinnamon babka and thank me later.

Chleo - 288 Fair St., Kingston, NY 12401/ Tues-Thurs 5-9pm, Fri 5-10pm, Sat 4-10pm

Chleo is an elegant wine bar in Kingston’s historic Stockade district. It’s a perfect place to stop by for a glass of wine and a slice of locally made sourdough with cultured butter, or tuck in for a whole meal. The wine list is accessible and impressive without being overwhelming; several bottles clock in under $70. The dinner menu is meant to be shared. They are especially deft with vegetables, so try a few of whatever is in season; the smoked carrots are always a no-brainer.

Mirador - 636 Broadway, Kingston, NY 12401/Thurs-Mon 5-9pm

Kingston, NY, may be an unexpected place to dine on very good Andalucian-inspired tapas, but Mirador really delivers. Order a selection of tapa and a few principales, or let the kitchen curate a tasting menu for you at a very reasonable $75/pp. Have a martini mirador or go for the vermut service served with chips, olive, and orange, and you’ll be transported from Upstate New York to Southern Spain.

Kinderhook/Chatham/Ghent

To the east of the Hudson River are the charming towns of Kinderhook, Ghent, and Chatham. Close to Hudson, but removed from the hustle and bustle of weekend crowds, these gentler regions are well worth a visit.

Kinderhook

OK Pantry - 2 Hudson St, Kinderhook, NY 12106/Mon-Thurs 9am-4pm, Fri & Sat 9am-6pm, Sun 10am-4pm

I’m a sucker for a well-curated provisions shop, and OK Pantry checks all the boxes. Come early for a cardamom latte and a freshly baked pastry, leave with fancy tinned fish and good olive oil.

The Aviary - 4 Hudson St, Kinderhook, NY 12106/ Thurs-Sat 5-9pm, Sun 5-8:30pm

Located inside The Kinderhook Knitting Mill, an artfully designed community space conceived by restaurateur Yen Ngo and artist Darren Waterston, The Aviary brings an Asian sensibility to Hudson Valley produce and proteins. A meal I had at the stylish bar last fall was layered with surprising flavor combinations; complex yet unfussy and utterly delicious.

Chatham

Berry Farm Greenhouse Cidery - 2309 Route 203, Chatham, NY 12037/Thurs & Fri 5-9pm, Sat 12-9pm

Adjacent to a working farm, Greenhouse Cidery specializes in small-batch hard ciders, NY State beers, and a selection of wines and cocktails. The outdoor setting with ample seating is ideal for gathering with human and furry friends alike. If you need sustenance, Yummy Kitchen operates onsite with dishes that play well with cider and beer, such as Khao Soi, Karaage, and Panang Curry.

Ghent

Bartlett House - 2258 State Route 66Ghent, NY 12075/ Daily 8am-2pm

Bartlett House is a cozy, welcoming daytime restaurant that excels in baked goods. It’s a perfect place to have breakfast before visiting Art Omi. Get one of their delicious breakfast sandwiches made with farm eggs, but save room for a pastry or a slice of freshly baked bread with a generous shmear of housemade jam.

Art Omi - 1405 County Route 22 Ghent, NY /Wed-Mon 9am-5pm

Patrick and I were lucky enough to spend the first few months of the pandemic in Saugerties with several members of his family. Art Omi became a refuge for us when we needed to escape the confines of the house. The sprawling 120 acres of outdoor sculpture park ensured we’d never have to get too close to other people. With rotating works of art and a dog-friendly policy, it remains one of our favorite destinations. Best of all, a suggested donation of $15 makes it a uniquely affordable activity for the whole family.

Hudson Chatham Winery - 1900 State Route 66, Ghent, NY 12075/ Thurs-Sat 12-7pm, Sun 12-5pm

On a nice day, not much beats sitting outside at Hudson Chatham Winery with a flight of their sustainable wines and a nosh. Kick back and relax in an Adirondack chair with a glass of Estate Seyval Blanc. Nibble on a grazing tray while a chicken lazily saunters by. Steven will guide you through their impressive list of hybrid varietals while Justin is in the back, preparing the food. Both are graduates of The Culinary Institute of America, so you won’t find any sad slices of processed cheese here. The wine is the best in the region, and the setting couldn’t be better.

Red Hook/Tivoli

This largely agrarian land south of Hudson is a dream to drive through in late spring through the fall. Filled with rolling hills and idyllic farms, this picturesque region is full of places to stop for apple picking, wine and cider tasting, and hidden gems.

Mead Orchards - 15 Scism Rd, Tivoli, NY 12583 / Seasonal Months Fri 10am-4pm, Sat & Sun 10am-5pm

In the fall, this vast farm is where to go to pick apples and pumpkins. In the summer, come for the blueberries, strawberries, peaches, and plums. Wander through the orchards, take a hay ride, and pick up some fresh apple butter and decorative gourds on your way out.

Apple picking with Patrick and our kiddo

Fortune’s Ice Cream - 55 Broadway, Tivoli, NY 12583 / Thurs-Mon 12-10pm

It’s virtually impossible not to feel happy in this colorful shop. The seasonal flavors range from the classics (peanut butter-chocolate, mint chip, butter pecan) to creative (labne sour cherry, halva honeycomb, sakura). All the ice cream is made from scratch using Hudson Valley dairy, so whatever direction you choose, it’s going to be delicious.

Greig Farm - 227 Pitcher Lane, Red Hook, NY 12571/ May -October 9am - 7pm

Another, somewhat smaller pick-your-own farm, what Greig lacks in apple varieties, it makes up for in a wonderful market and goats. If you have kids, bring them here to pet the animals, pick some fruit, and grab a solid lunch in their market cafe.

Rose Hill Ferments - 14 Rose Hill Farm, Red Hook, NY 12571/ Fri 3-8pm, Sat & Sun 12-6pm

Made primarily from fruit grown on Rose Hill Farm, Rose Hill Ferments is the low-intervention cider and wine project featured in the farm’s attractive tasting room. Grab a glass at the bar and enjoy it outside at a picnic table right next to the apple trees. Rotating food trucks are on-site in case you get peckish, and bottles of all of their wines and ciders are available for purchase in the tasting room’s shop.

Upcoming Projects and Events:

Ceres Food Film Festival Happy Hour / May 28, 5-7 pm - BEM|books & more (Bed Stuy, Brooklyn)

To celebrate the close of the 10th season of the Ceres Food Film Festival — and the opening of submissions for Season 11 — Ceres will gather at the lovely BEM | books & more in Bed-Stuy, the nation’s first Black food bookstore, café, and culinary hub. In partnership with NYU Seed Library, the evening will feature drinks and a community seed exchange. Come for a beverage, leave with a new cookbook, a new seed variety, and hopefully a new friend.

Anti-ICE Supper Club with Roads & Kingdoms/ Monday, June 1 at Honeysuckle & Thursday, June 4 at Post Haste - Philadelphia

Presented by Roads & Kingdoms, The Anti-ICE Supper Club is a series of fundraising dinners in support of local organizations defending communities under attack. I am beyond honored to have played a small role in curating the upcoming dinners in Philadelphia. I hope that if you’re in the area, you’ll consider joining us at either or both events. Net proceeds benefit Juntos, a community-led, Latinx immigrant organization in South Philadelphia fighting for human rights as workers, parents, and youth.

Jewish Food Creators Bootcamp / Tuesdays, June 9 - July 14 @7pm - virtual

The Nosher celebrates all things Jewish food. This summer, they are launching an online Food Creators Bootcamp for anyone interested in learning more about Jewish food media and content creation. I had the pleasure of curating the truly phenomenal presenters (Leah Koenig, Jeremy Jacobowitz, Gabriella Gershnenson, etc!) and topics, and I’ll be online hosting each of the six sessions. It’s all virtual, so pants are optional!

Smoked & Stirred with The Neighborhood: A Boozy Fish Party / Wednesday, June 17, 7pm - Bushwick, Brooklyn

If you’ve been paying attention, you’ve probably noticed I have a thing for cocktails and fishies, so it should come as no surprise that my next event with The Neighborhood is a celebration of the smoked and cured fish at the heart of Ashkenazi Jewish culture — paired with cocktails. Expect ice-cold martinis, fish from Hank’s Delicatessen and Acme Smoked Fish, a live Klezmer band, and plenty of briny chaos.

Dirty anchovy martinis from a cookbook event I worked on with Fishwife.

I recently ate dinner at a restaurant that had an anchovy cocktail on the menu. The ingredients included anchovy vermouth, coconut water, and sake. I was skeptical. My sister was intrigued.

To be clear, I love anchovy cocktails. I love anchovy everything. In fact, I regularly make my own anchovy martinis with house-made anchovy-infused vodka or brine from anchovy-stuffed olives. My hesitation was due to the coconut water and the sake, which I worried were there to mitigate the anchovies' salinity. For my money, I like my anchovy cocktails to taste like anchovy.

Curious, my sister ordered the drink, which arrived in a rocks glass over a single oversized cube. I took a sip, and my suspicions were confirmed: the drink leaned sweet, with only a whisper of umami. The nuttiness of the coconut water and floral sake muted the fishy brine, unable to break through. I had warned her, but my sister—a journalist at The New York Times—was disappointed. It was 6 p.m. after a long workday, and she wanted something aggressively strong and unequivocally dirty. Would this smack the last eight hours of investigative reporting right out of her? No. This was a gentle drink with laid-back Vita Coco vibes and harmonious sake zen.

The very kind beverage director came by to talk shop. We told him that putting “anchovy” in the name of a drink suggested a stronger flavor profile to us. I mentioned I have a bottle of anchovy-infused vodka in my freezer right now. He looked at me with a mix of incredulity and sympathy and said, “No offense, but you are not the average consumer.”

Yeah, I know. I am well aware that my relationship to briny, fishy foods is not normal or “average,” and I’m good with that, thanks. Still, I happen to know there are plenty of people who, like me, think anchovies are perfectly suited for vodka or gin.

Several years ago, I was running an event at MOFAD, The Museum of Food and Drink, where I used to run programming. We had New York Times food columnist Melissa Clark there for a talk, and we bonded over our shared love of tinned fish. This was 2019—well before the tinned fish explosion. I mentioned that I make anchovy martinis at home, and she immediately wanted to know more. A few days later, Melissa shared her anchovy martini video on The New York Times social media accounts. Don’t worry—she credited me on her personal account, and besides, I’m not here to gatekeep. The comments were filled with thousands of likes and people begging for a recipe. Maybe I was onto something.

There is, in fact, context for all of this. Early in my adulthood, my father introduced me to the pleasures of a dirty martini. I was in college, but still young and impressionable, and my soft brain began associating olive juice and vodka with deliciousness. When he moved to San Diego in my early 20s, he discovered blue-cheese-stuffed olives, inexplicably standard at fine-dining restaurants there. This caused him (and me, by proxy) to level up our filthy martini game. Reader, it was a gateway garnish if there ever was one. Anchovies were the next obvious step.

This is not to say I don’t mess around. I love many martinis, as long as they are savory. Miss me with chocolate or espresso, but I still think about an herby tomato number I sipped on a balmy night at Theodora, or the infamous MSG martini at Bonnie’s with its cheeky proprietary dirty brine. There’s the stylish Shmuck Martini with Ford’s gin, shochu, and an olive oil dropper (swoon), and the OG— before it was cool—olive oil martini from Frankie’s 457. For something to put hair on your chest, may I recommend the Cigarette Martini from Tigre, with Truman vodka and a spray of black cardamom clinging to the glass like a woman of the night languishing in perfumed clove smoke—all tobacco, spice, and exotic mystery.

There have been whimsical drinks I think back on fondly: the Caesar martini from Little Water in Philadelphia, rich with Parmesan-infused vodka; the Pintxotini from Ernesto’s with Spanish gin and an elaborate Gilda drizzled with Txakoli vinegar; a Caprese martini from Maialino (RIP), skewered tomato and elastic mozzarella ball included—practically retro now. There was a hard-won table at The Corner Store where I sipped a dilly sour cream-and-onion martini shaken with cream-washed Condesa gin, and The Cousteau Martini from The Shipwright’s Daughter with oyster vodka and Stonington Kelp —as salty as the sea itself. Even foggier in my mind is the salt-and-pepper martini from Temple Bar, slightly sweet with Manzanilla sherry and warmed by piment d’Espelette. And for real martini heads, we can look back to The Mermaid Inn’s Hot & Dirty, with its kick of tobacco and Peppadew pepper. I don’t know if it ever got the publicity it deserved, but there was a time in the early aughts when a Hot & Dirty and half a dozen oysters felt like the pinnacle of New York City luxury. Twenty years later, the combo still holds up.

So tell me, am I really such an outlier? These martinis exist for a reason, and I know I alone am not that reason. Just last week, my friend Beth texted me a photo of her garlic-bread vodka dirty martini from San Sabino, saying it felt very Sari-coded. High praise, honestly, as I am an aspiring martini influencer alongside my other content lanes: Jewish food culture and motherhood. We contain multitudes, people.

So, without further ado, here are two variations on an anchovy martini that you can make at home.

Dirty Anchovy Martini

Ingredients:

• 2 1/2 oz vodka or gin (if using gin, stick with London Dry, Ford’s, or preferably Gin Mare).

• 1/2 oz of Dolin Vermouth or Fino Sherry

• 1/2 oz -1 oz brine from a can of anchovy-stuffed olives such as La Espanola Gourmet Anchoa.

Shake all ingredients together in a cocktail shaker with a few cubes of ice until the shaker feels icy cold in your hand. Strain into a martini glass and garnish with an anchovy-stuffed olive (or 7).

Variation:

Filthy Anchovy Martini

• 2 1/2 oz vodka or gin (if using gin, stick with London Dry, Ford’s, or preferably Gin Mare).

• 1/2 oz of Veso Anchovy Vermouth.

• 1/2 oz brine from a can of anchovy-stuffed olives such as La Espanola Gourmet Anchoa.

Same as above, and don’t forget to hydrate!

I’ll be announcing some exciting new work in the next newsletter, plus a guide to The Catskills/Hudson Valley. In the meantime, here are a few upcoming events.

Like Wafers in Honey /May 20 @ 7 pm - MOFAD (Dumbo, Brooklyn)

There are still a few tickets left for Wednesday’s conversation at MOFAD with Leah Eskin. We’ll be chatting about her wonderful new book, Like Wafers in Honey. Inspired by the life and recipes of the prolific Italian Jewish cookbook author Edda Servi Machlin. Machlin’s beloved cookbook, The Classic Cuisine of the Italian Jews, offers the compelling story of the Jewish community of Pitigliano, Italy.

Ceres Food Film Festival Happy Hour / May 28, 5-7 pm - BEM|books & more (Bed Stuy, Brooklyn)

To celebrate the close of the 10th season of the Ceres Food Film Festival — and the opening of submissions for Season 11 — Ceres will gather at the lovely BEM | books & more in Bed-Stuy, the nation’s first Black food bookstore, café, and culinary hub. In partnership with NYU Seed Library, the evening will feature drinks and a community seed exchange. Come for a beverage, leave with a new cookbook, a new seed variety, and hopefully a new friend.

Jewish Food Creators Bootcamp / Tuesdays, June 9 - July 14 @7pm - virtual

The Nosher celebrates all things Jewish food. This summer, they are launching an online Food Creators Bootcamp for anyone interested in learning more about Jewish food media and content creation. I had the pleasure of curating the truly phenomenal presenters (Leah Koenig, Jeremy Jacobowitz, Gabriella Gershnenson, etc!) and topics, and I’ll be online hosting each of the six sessions. It’s all virtual, so pants are optional!

In Park Slope, Brooklyn, where I live, the Magnolia trees are starting to weep petals onto the sidewalks, and the tulips are starting to wilt. Only a few weeks ago, I noticed their tenacious green stems breaking through the dirt and felt an excited sense of relief, even as I stuffed my cold hands back into the pockets of my winter coat. I wanted — needed, really — some assurance that this long, gray winter would come to an end and something would grow. I don’t remember the moment when the tulips morphed from tiny shoots into majestic clusters of color that overtook the patches of grass in my neighborhood, normally reserved for dog urine and crumpled candy wrappers. But one morning, there they were in all their starbright glory: yellow and purple and pink and white and yellow with red streaks.

This week, the tulips looked defeated, or at the very least resigned. It’s bittersweet, isn’t it? How ferociously they appear, and how quickly they recede. They are simply the welcoming committee, designed to create fanfare at almost the very moment spring arrives, and then quietly make space for what blooms next.

I ate my first artichoke of the season a few days ago. It was violet-hued and plump, and I relished each morsel of meat that I greedily scraped off each leaf with my teeth. I did quick work on the leaves, anticipating the fleshy heart that awaited me. I took my knife to the choke, discarding the fuzzy fibers with surgical precision, and dunked the freshly sheared heart in a pool of melted butter and lemon. Here is where I practiced patience—allowing the heart to languish and rest until I deemed it sufficiently marinated. It was worth it—the labor of it all, and then the exercise of waiting. It was a prize well earned and even better enjoyed. I won’t bore you with further details, but I suggest you go and find yourself an artichoke while they are ripe and heaving and ready for a luxurious butter soak or an aioli dip.

The thing is, I had no intention of writing about tulips or artichokes today, but here we are. What I wanted to say is that I’m doing a few things, and I thought it might be nice to share. I have been working on a few different projects, and if you are so inclined, I’d love you to join me at any or all of them. Regardless, I am excited about gathering and being in community again. It’s been a long winter, and a strange and isolating several months. Getting laid off is a hell of a mindfuck, among other things. There’s the whole losing your income and health insurance thing, but then there’s the whole other sense of self and identity piece that’s wrapped up into losing a job (career?) you genuinely love and take pride in. Anyway, we can talk about that some other time, or not.

Speaking of (and sorry to really bury the lede!), welcome to my newsletter of sorts. I’m calling it The Long Table because it’s a place to stay connected and share updates on events I’m working on. There will be restaurant, travel, book, and music recommendations, occasional recipes, info about my forthcoming cookbook, Honey & Schmaltz, and thoughts on other topics that impact me, such as motherhood, politics, and Jewish identity. I cannot promise any particular frequency, but I can say with confidence that as long as you are nice, you are very welcome at my table.

On that note, here are a few things I’ve been working on.

Ceres Food Film Festival /April 10th -15th - NYC

Two weeks ago, the 10th season of the Ceres Food Film Festival came to a close. I was a judge for the festival in 2024 and 2025, but this year I had the pleasure of working on the in-person events, which are the flagship of the festival. We popped up in locations all over NYC, including Union Docs and MoMI (Museum of the Moving Image) in Queens, MOFAD in Brooklyn, and NYU in Manhattan. The 2026 festival has ended, but there will be one-off events happening again soon, so watch this space!

The Central Asian Jewish Kitchen /May 7 @ 5:30pm - Williamsburg, Brooklyn

The lovely people at The Neighborhood have asked me to curate a few culinary programs. First up is The Central Asian Kitchen with Dahlia Abraham Klein. If you’ve ever wanted to learn about Jewish Afghan-Bukharan history and cuisine while hanging out with cool folks, this one is for you. There will be lots to eat and drink!

Like Wafers in Honey /May 20 @ 7 pm - MOFAD (Dumbo, Brooklyn)

I’m very excited to be in conversation at MOFAD with Leah Eskin. We’ll be chatting about her wonderful new book, Like Wafers in Honey. Inspired by the life and recipes of Edda Servi Machlin, Machlin’s beloved cookbook, The Classic Cuisine of the Italian Jews, offers the compelling story of a vanished community.

Jewish Food Creators Bootcamp / Tuesdays, June 9 - July 14 @7pm - virtual

The Nosher celebrates all things Jewish food. This summer, they are launching an online Food Creators Bootcamp for anyone interested in learning more about Jewish food media and content creation. I had the pleasure of curating the presenters and topics, and I’ll be online hosting each of the six sessions.