Frankly, I’m a little surprised no one has yet popularized POG as a savory salad, given the rabid love we have for the passion-orange-guava combination in the Islands.

There I was at home during these dying weeks of summer, staring at my fridge bulging with peak-season fruit. During a hot and humid week, I craved something cold and refreshing that would remind me just how lucky it is we live Hawaiʻi.

And in that brief moment of satisfaction, some crunchy guava, fragrant lilikoi (passion fruit), and sweet citrus stared out at me, and I realized I had everything I needed for POG salad. What if I took the iconic, tropical flavors we all grew up sipping as saccharine juice mix of passion fruit, orange, and guava and used fresh versions of the fruit to create a refreshing, crisp, and a little savory salad.

The secret to a successful POG salad is balancing the lush, juicy acidity of the ripe fruit with earthly red cabbage, sweet Maui onions, fresh mint, and a dressing awakened with white pepper. The white pepper is the secret key, bringing a warm, gentle lift that complements the tropical sweetness without the aggressiveness of black pepper.

The Recipe: Late-Summer POG Crunch Salad

• Prep Time: 25 minutes

• Yield: Serves 4–6

Ingredients

I think that Da Best Pho is one of my favorite kinds of restaurants.

It must be because, to get there, I found myself inching down Kapiolani Boulevard in the after-work afterglow of red brake lights. As I crawled down an alluring corridor of other Vietnamese restaurants, the edges of potential regret crept in. Pho Que Hoang 2 (GRAND OPENING!), Pho Viet, Pho Saigon, Pho 777. BUT WHY.

Opened in 2021, Da Best Pho is run by owner Diana Doan, her mom, and her cousin. Despite the name, bun rieu is my frequent order: a steaming noodle soup of tomato and seafood broth packed with crab, pork patties, tofu, shrimp, and springy, round rice noodles, then topped with crispy fried pork. The broth is clean and sweet and can be amped up, by request, with pungent shrimp paste. Their featured pho sets are exactly what I often wish for — a hot bowl and a single summer roll (two is too much!) for $23.99.

The 8-table space is white and clean to nearly the point of sterile. Wall decals with encouraging phrases cheer me on (”Bless this home with love and laughter!” “Attitude determines how well you do it! If you believe in yourself, anything is possible!” Take that, Susan).

But what I love most is the intimacy of the staff and customers, despite it being a very small restaurant.

“Beef brisket?” says the owner the moment one woman steps in. “Yes.” “Beautiful dress! See you next time.”

Another woman comes in: “Just you today? Where’s your other half?” “He stayed busy today.” “Your usual?” “Yes please. Can I also look at the menu?” “Yes, all the vegetarian stuff is in back.”

I think everyone deserves to have Their Spot – to be seen and known, even if you’re just in for a meal now and again. It’s a comforting reminder of the small but hard-won interactions that make going to a restaurant feel so great.

Da Best Pho

Market City Shopping Center

2919 Kapiolani Blvd

Spc 206D

Honolulu, HI 96826

Days after receiving a James Beard nomination for Outstanding Bar, Portland’s Scotch Lodge owner Tommy Klus opened a letter from fellow nominee Lover’s Bar in Philadelphia, challenging them to a duel.

A karaoke duel.

In the wee hours that followed this year’s Award Ceremony after gala, the two bars – still donning tuxes and sweeping floor-length gowns – met at dimly lit The Revel Room, a neighborhood cocktail den in Chicago’s Wicker Park. Both had been nominees in 2025 as well. “We are here in this physical space because we are accepting your challenge!” said Scotch Lodge bartender Nathan Beals.

One thing not many people know about me is that I always have a cabbage on hand. Sometimes two, if you count its oblong sister, the napa cabbage.

And it might be true that cabbage — who would have thunk it? — is on a national tear, a vegetable left for drab in previous decades and now in its hippest glory. It’s been called The Year of the Cabbage by multiple publications. It is in the title of a very popular IG handle. I think it might be staring at me from my fridge in barrel pants and Onitsukas.

But having kept a steady supply of cabbage in my fridge for years, I do think that this frenzy is well deserved, particularly during summer.

I try to keep a cold, chopped, assertively savory salad version on hand — perfect for mid-day snacking or even movies and parties (it was the biggest hit at my most recent New Year’s Eve bash, demolished even among a selection of vintage champagne, vintage armagnac, caviar, and special edition Harbison cheese). One of its numerous beauties is that it is charmingly crunchy out of the gate and only grows more supple and marinated over a few days in the fridge. This makes it very useful for fast vegetables for lunches and dinner all week, provided I don’t gobble it up.

I love a hot miso Caesar salad charred right on the grill or alternatively the toaster oven.

It makes for an extremely unfussy nabe, particularly for one or even two people. Forego the goose chase for a variety of vegetables and simply add a tray of sliced meat. For this recipe, I primarily keep the napa on hand, though a conventional cabbage works just as well for these purposes.

During lilikoi (passion fruit) season, I love to scoop out a whole ripe fruit into a bowl of red cabbage slaw, maui onions, and a lot of cilantro. I squeeze a heavy dousing of lime, balsamic vinegar, extra virgin olive oil, agave syrup, garlic powder, and Tajin — then finish with a bit of Sichuan pepper oil and ground Sichuan pepper for a kick.

I even went through a time in my 20s when I was really into “cabbage steaks” — whole, handsome quarters of cabbages slow simmered, ideally in a donabe, with sweet sukiyaki sauce. Serve alongside a tousle of noodles or a seared steak or grilled fish.

More recipes to come, but to get you started, you can check out my recipe for Cold, Addicting Cabbage Salad below:

Cold, Addicting Japanese Cabbage

This is a dish inspired by the intersection of growing up in Hawaiʻi surrounded by Japanese culture, hot summer days, and my love for chicken bouillon. I made this at my last New Year’s Eve party and even sitting alongside vintage armagnac, very expensive French cheese, and caviar, this was the dish that was gobbled up seemingly instantly by my guests (so either it’s pretty good – or my guests were just severely iron deficient. So it goes).

The bones of this Japanese-style cabbage dish are pretty common – but what makes mine a little different is the inclusion of the bouillon, which gives it that hyper-addictive, umami quality. I also favor a kind of coarse sea salt for a sharp, meaty flavor that really draws out the water of the cabbage over time. Lastly, many people call for a heavy dousing of sesame oil; I find that overpowering, which prevents me from eating the salad with abandon. I solve this by splitting the base with olive oil, introducing a softer nuttiness and a little bit of healthy fats to boot.

It takes five minutes to throw together and is just as good eaten straight out of the bowl on movie night as it is served alongside dinner. I’m also fond of using it for meal prep. You can store the cabbage in the fridge and eat it over the course of days. It starts as delightfully crunchy and becomes satisfyingly supple over time. Then before you know it, it’s Friday.

Ingredients

The Base

• 1 head green cabbage chopped into ~1-inch squares

The Seasoning & Dressing

• 1 tbsp coarse sea salt (preferably French sel gris)

• 1 to 1½ tbsp chicken bouillon powder

• 1 tbsp toasted sesame oil

• 1 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil

• 2 tbsp sushi vinegar (see notes below for options)

• 1–2 tbsp furikake (nori & sesame seed flavor)

Directions

1. Prep the cabbage: Chop the cabbage into rough 1-inch squares. Place the pieces into a large mixing bowl, gently separating any tightly layered leaves so the seasoning hits every surface.

2. Add the salt & umami: Sprinkle the coarse sea salt and chicken bouillon powder directly over the cabbage.

3. Drizzle the liquids & furikake: Pour in the toasted sesame oil, extra-virgin olive oil, and sushi vinegar. Top with a generous shake of furikake.

4. Massage and coat: Using your hands, toss and gently massage the cabbage until every piece is glossy and coated in the dressing and spices.

Notes & Substitutions

• No sushi vinegar? Use 1 tablespoon of plain white vinegar plus 1 teaspoon of agave nectar or simple syrup to balance the acidity.

• Furikake variations: Mix up the salad with the furikake of your choosing. Classic Nori Goma (seaweed and sesame) is great here, but mostly anything on the furikake shelf that interests you should work well. Ume Shiso (plum and perilla) or Katsuokai (bonito flake) are fun options. If you don’t have furikake, you can use strips of nori, sesame seeds, and a tiny pinch of MSG.

People ask me how I travel so much and take overnight flights without getting muscle cramps. The answer is: I don’t — my neck still hurts a lot from passing out whiplash style in the window seat. This is the harsh reality of not splurging thousands of dollars on a seat. However, there ARE small things I have found over the years that help, while still maintaining a reasonably priced ticket.

Here are eight items that I’ve found helpful in maximizing my airplane comfort — all for the price of less than a seat upgrade.

1. Neck pillow: Pluto POD 2.0

Neck pillows go a bit high tech with the Pluto POD 2.0, and while I have had dozens of different neck pillows in my life given my recurring desperation to save myself from long-haul neck cramps, this neck pillow has been one that actually works.

The design – which includes a velcro neck brace, built-in hood, and eye masks — is intentional enough to actually land it in the MoMa store. Luckily, it not only looks cool, but generally works. The thick padding prevents your neck from falling into uncomfortable positions while knocked out. The eye mask creates an airy, but dark-enough environment to sleep or relax. The hood not only protects the back of your head from the oft-used head rest — it also creates some sound deafening for a bit of extra peace.

My one gripe is that the zipper for the pillow cover is not easy to open and shut, and often gets frustratingly stuck. The neck pillow is also supposed to roll up to protect it from getting dirty and make it easier to jam into your bag. In new condition, however, it proved difficult to actually roll tight enough to fasten the buttons, though that has changed over time.

The Pluto Pod is not cheap. It will set you back $145 – however, this was much cheaper in the end than an economy plus upgrade and worth the higher quality sleep over time. And, fascinatingly, it looks like some people may be able to use pre-tax FSA dollars to purchase their neck pillow, based on the website.

Runner up: Muji Neck Pillow

For a less expensive option, I suggest the Muji Neck Pillow ($24.95), which is extremely soft and fastens necklace style around your neck. This enables you to actually flip the pillow around like fluffy necklace or forward scarf – or even position it on one shoulder. Your head can use your seat’s head rest without being pushed forward, and when you inevitably roll forward or to the side, your Muji Pillow is there for you.

Items I have tried that were not helpful or practical: Airplane slings, blowup pillows with blankets, blow up neck pillows, memory foam neck pillows, and most other neck pillows.

2. Foot sling

I first saw a flight attendant next to me use a foot sling, so I thought I’d try and I was, well, hooked. With models like the one I’ve linked less than $10, it’s an inexpensive piece of equipment that simply slings over the arms of the table. To secure it, you just shut the table with the straps draped on the arms.

Realistically, the foot sling will not provide a single magical position that you can keep all flight. But the idea behind the sling is to provide a variety of ways to sit in your chair and provide different types of relief to different muscle groups, particularly for your all-important lower back. This means you can combine it with not using anything or even propping your feet up on a backpack below. Adding the sling to my repertoire has enabled me to feel much less stiff and achy on long flights. On many, I am actually able to sleep.

3. Magnesium Glycinate

Magnesium Glycinate is a growingly popular supplement that many people are taking before bedtime or after workouts. It calms people’s nervous systems and relaxes muscle groups to lessen cramping and feelings of fatigue. And I have really found it helpful to take a dose right after or before takeoff. It prevents me from tensing up while sitting in the seat for a long time and makes it easier to relax into sleep, despite loud or cold conditions.

4. Muji down jacket (This jacket currently seems out of stock for summer, but typically returns to shelves every year)

I used to carry a travel blanket with me to warm me in cold airplanes, but bringing my own blanket was annoyingly bulky and then would slip off my body while sitting upright, making it impossible to be warm enough to rest and sleep. Enter the long Muji Down Jacket. The down balances warmth with breathability, and using a long jacket zipped up ensures it wouldn’t slip off, trapping your own body heat. The jacket also comes with a compact pouch, and it is exceedingly easy to smash down into my backpack.

5. Compression socks

I started wearing compression socks just after the pandemic and now whenever I forget to wear them on the plane, my feet and calves feel swollen and slightly unsteady. Diligently wearing compression socks has enabled me to literally hit the ground running on arrival. Importantly, compression also deters thrombosis, which is a life-threatening blood clot that — when sitting still for long periods of time — can start in your legs and travel to your heart. As an extra plus: I always find planes very grimy, and I love wearing socks that go all the way up to my knees on the plane.

6. Face Moisturizer: Summer Fridays hydration face mist

People ask me, how do you get such supple, moist, porcelain skin? In actuality, nobody has actually ever asked me that (though my family has made fun of me for being pale and sun-avoidant). However, I have found a plane moisturizer that I love and makes me feel great, lack of complimentary questions notwithstanding. The Summer Fridays Jet Lag Skin Soothing Hydration Face Mist (yes, that appears to be the whole name) comes in a bottle that’s small enough to take through TSA and tuck into a backpack front pocket. A few pumps of the spray mid-flight and even after makes you feel refreshed and human again, so your skin is not pulled so tight.

7. Ear plugs: Loops Quiet 2

I’ve come to realize that the loud, constant, chaotic roar of the airplane is a large contributor of stress and discomfort on the plane for me. Who would, after all, choose to dip their ears into the sound bath equivalent of Highway 101 for hours on end? Noise cancelling earbuds like Pixel Buds or Apple Airpods have certainly been a savior, but they work best for me when playing music or podcasts, and I don’t want to expose my hearing to so much sound for hours. Instead, I grab a pair of Loop Earplugs, which are small and light enough to stash on a keychain.

Loops has actually become quite trendy on the concert and musical festival circuit, manufacturing a variety of models that work for different environments, including ones for hearing conversations even in noisy places, some for just lowering the overall volume of life to focus a bit more, and ones that provide ear protection without blocking out music. They’ve even produced Tomorrowland and F1 collab versions and generally come in a whole slew of fun colors.

For me, I throw the Quiet 2 model into my bag (color: mint green!), which they say blocks out 24dB of noise. In addition, I put a handful of inexpensive, disposable soft earplugs in my bag, just in case I leave my earplugs anywhere or forget to pack them.

8. (Optional) Blow up foot stool

If you know you may be able to snag a bulkhead or exit row seat on a red eye, I have at times brought with me an inflatable foot rest. It is a little annoying to blow up and fold down when done, but assuming you avoid any hyper ventilation, using this tool is the closest thing you’ll get to your own personal Eames chair at 30,000 feet. For short people or children, you may even have a chance at creating a tiny bed set up in a premium economy seat – but your mileage may vary there on what is most comfortable for you.

My first trip to Italy as an adult was in my mid-20s, and on the very first morning — eager to experience the wonders of Italian coffee — I found the closest cafe to our Airbnb in Milan.

I don’t know what I expected: Maybe a frothy cinnamon-topped cappuccino that I could savor quietly at a table on the streets of Milan.

But I quickly found that the classic Italian coffee experience was not that — and certainly not anything close to the jazzy American free-wifi-and-linger Starbucks cafe concepts. There were no tables or chairs or benches to laze on. We were swept into a long, narrow, and aggressively white, glossy-paneled cafe whose main feature was a long bar with dusty looking Italian men shouting (or was it simply talking?) over the counter.

That’s how I learned that, in Italy, coffee is a fast encounter, not a stretched-out affair. Espresso means “expressed” or “pressed” in Italian — referring to the method of forcing hot water through a compressed puck to create a concentrated coffee — but, with the way people drink it, I would not have been surprised if it also meant EXPRESS! And pronto.

We observed once and then went for it. Order your coffee (you can raise your voice a little, if you like) — “un caffè, per favore!” (one coffee please!) should suffice at the cash register. Then grab a standing space at the counter and pass your receipt to the barista (they may be kind, gruff, hurried, exasperated, or maternal – you’ll see). Your espresso appears miraculously quickly, at which point your job is to simply drop in a packet of sugar, give it a good stir, down the tiny cup in a go or two, tell the staff grazie, and then be on your way.

Though second-wave American coffees, like Starbucks and Peet’s, were modeled after Italian roasts, the cups in Italy will still surprise you. They are rich, creamy, and syrupy with less acid and sometimes less bitterness, by comparison. It’s also very different from what characterizes now-trending specialty coffee espresso pulls: The Italian originals are even lower in acid and fruitiness, more viscous, and creamier still with bigger emphasis on the frothy bit on top (the crema). You are essentially getting a taste of what it’s like to sip velvet.

Inspired by a recent “trip” to Rome — which was really a dreadful 8-hour layover in FCO, made fun with as many visits to different airport espresso counters as possible followed by a huge plate of pasta — I have decided: I am bringing back the Italian-style espresso into my life! Truth be told, it will be at home, drinking it quickly at my desk, instead of a counter, and shouting at no one in particular. And I’ll be using my own espresso machine, which saves me enough money every morning for a proper bout of gloating.

But none of this is a detraction: The quick, hot, sweet sip is a delight in the middle of a hurried work morning or desperate afternoon post-lunch – a fleeting moment of velvety richness, before life fades back in. And who doesn’t like a little 5-minute mental trip to Rome?

The spirit of a shot like this is certainly possible with the commonly found Nespresso machine, though the beans Nespresso uses are too bitter and will not have quite the same viscosity.

For those who have an espresso machine at home (and God bless you for that!), it’s useful to know that while common specialty coffee in the U.S. today straps in a double basket using 16-20 grams of coffee with 30-40 grams of espresso pulled out, the everyday version in Italy is a succinct 7 grams of very fine coffee in a single basket at a ratio of about 1:3 (that’s about 21 grams of espresso).

And the beans, of course, matter. With a whole nation rabidly enthused about this drink, the Italian darkly roasted coffee is naturally mass produced, but very consistent. They commonly use a blend of mostly Arabica (for the fruit and chocolate) and a percentage of Robusta, which gives the espresso the body and the crema. Here are a few easily accessible beans I’ve tried that remind me most of Italy:

• Caffè Vergnano (they had a Caffè Vergnano bar in the Rome airport, actually, and I used to frequent one in London that has since closed) - My personal favorite of the three. Chocolatey with a little dark fruit.

• Lavazza - They have a lot of different varieties, many of which pull good crema are easy to dial in on an espresso machine. I like the Gran Espresso best — it’s chocolatey and elegant.

• Kimbo - Intensely dark Neapolitan style and the most bitter of the three.

As they say: Prego.

This was a dish conceived by putting together a few of Side A Chef Parker Brown's favorite things. Inspired by a little extra hot sauce in the kitchen, he threw together a braised confit duck leg with buffalo sauce for a tender, indulgent dish that is full-time delight. That is, everything we love about buffalo wings, but bigger, meatier, and richer. The low key opulence is charming, and he casually adds some perfectly minced pickled mirepoix on the side with a miniature bushel of Little Gem as a play on a wedge salad.

It’s a little bit of a snapshot of the whole Side A concept in SF which is gratifyingly based on the stuff that Parker and his wife Caroline Brown love most, smooshed into restaurant form for The People. Where you’d usually find a host stand is a DJ pulpit of turntables and production knobs. Most nights, Caroline — also a co-owner and professional DJ — takes command of the room with live sets. (Tonight, we’re just going to play love songs, says Parker, happily).

On the kitchen side, Parker comes from Michelin cloth. He used to work at Aphotic, a seafood tasting menu spot in SoMa, and when it closed, he made Side A the new home for the crew.

And it all starts to make sense. The casual perfection in these plates, freed from Michelin tie-downs, composed of self-delights from the staff that feel generous and not self-indulgent. The short, but well-curated, wine list full of fun glasses that taste like Froot Loops and Jelly Beans (”It’s just the glasses my wife and I like!” said Parker.) The attentive and chipper servers who seem to check in at just the right time. And when the server, whom I just met, drops the check, he sends me on my way with a simple farewell: “Thanks, boo!”

Thanks to you guys, too!

Side A

2814 19th St.

San Francisco, CA 94110

(415) 231-4969