Hello! I am Sylvie’s Virginia-bred, Brooklyn-based friend from grad school with a travel guide to Mid-Coast Maine. I went to college at Bowdoin in Brunswick in the mid 2000s, and after three cold, dark Maine winters (and a junior year abroad), I couldn’t wait to get out of New England. But the joke was on me, since I missed the payoff of suffering through so much snow–nothing is more glorious than summer in Maine, especially once you get on Route 1 north of Brunswick and head towards Penobscot Bay. I’ve been going up in late spring, summer, and early fall every year or so for the last seven or eight years, healing my formerly fraught relationship with the state as I go.

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Brunswick & North

• Fort Andross is an old decommissioned mill turned home to many antique dealers. The prices are great–as a college student, I skipped the Ikea desk set-up for a beat-up old kitchen table and a gorgeous hand-carved antique dining chair I kept with me for years until it finally broke from clambering on it too many times, oops. I’ve found fantastic vintage jewelry, maps, books, and clothes here, too.

• Big Top Deli has the best deli sandwiches around. The Avocadowich got me through college and single-handedly ended my decade-long post-College boycott of Maine.

• Fat Boy Drive In: A Maine institution. Burgers, frappes, onion rings, fried haddock all brought out to your car window on a tray. Feels like it hasn’t changed in decades.

• My alma mater, Bowdoin College, has a solid Art Museum with a small but very good art collection. They also offer an Arctic Museum if you prefer.

• Popham Beach: Rare sand beach (Maine coast is rocky!) with an island you can walk out to at low tide. But keep an eye on it so you don’t get stuck out there!

Wiscasset

I find Wiscasset a bit overly manicured and precious–it’s the most Hamptons-slash-Nantucket-adjacent town in the mid-Coast–but it’s also beautiful and worth a stop.

• Widener Company: Decorator/influencer Alexander Widener took over the old Marston House space a few years ago and sells a mix of new decor and antiques–I got some sweet little teacups when I stopped there this May, and the prices were not bad! I’m glad we have a Gen Z answer to Martha Stewart, honestly. Somebody has to keep WASP design principles alive!

• Red’s Lobster: Voted #1 In New England, the line often stretches halfway across the bridge. I am not a super lobster gal, sadly, but friends who are attest that Reds is best.

Damariscotta and Around

• Glidden Point Oyster Farm has great fresh oysters you can eat on picnic tables while watching bald eagles circle overhead, down on one of the little finger-like islands between Brunswick and Rockland. I think the eagles are competing with you for food.

• Moody’s Diner is a real Route 1 classic. I don’t love the food, but I’d stop for a slice of blueberry pie or an ice cream cone.

• Pemaquid Point Lighthouse is worth a detour for ocean views, large (and dangerous!) rocks, and a quirky little museum of maritime lore.

• Maine State Prison Gift Shop: My mom “discovered” this place coming up to Maine in the ‘90s to go to an artists’ residency on Great Spruce Head Island (the artist Fairfield Porter’s family’s island). It’s actually hard to miss–right on Route 1 in Thomaston–and a great spot for anything wooden. I have a bunch of cutting boards, and my mom got these nifty wood things you can stick in your windows to help prop them open. Doesn’t hurt that it’s a good cause. Also, speaking of Maine prisons, Shawshank Redemption, though set in Maine, was actually filmed in Ohio. So don’t get any ideas.

Rockland & Around

This is where Penobscot Bay starts, and where the real Maine, to me anyway, begins.

• Home Kitchen Cafe: My platonic ideal of an unpretentious New England diner/breakfast spot. You could get eggs or home fries, or you could ditch it all for yeasty cinnamon buns the size of your head and a mug of coffee–that’s what I would do.

• St George Pizza: I stopped here for pizza in May, not long after it opened, and ate the most delicious food on the deck overlooking this abundant wildflower field with forget-me-nots all over. And they’ve since opened a used bookstore, Upstairs Books, which seems perfect. I’d eat here all the time

• Oyster River Wine Growers: I haven’t actually been here because they’re always closed when I’m passing by, but I like the vibes, and they sell the wine in wine shops around the midcoast and beyond.

• Arctic Tern Books is the great indie bookstore of mid-coast Maine.

• Luce Spirits is the hip spirits manufacturer in Rockland. And apparently they now host dance parties?

Vinalhaven

For just a few dollars, you can take the Vinalhaven Ferry–poor man’s version of sailing in Penobscot Bay–and spend the day exploring this sweet and beautiful island. Walk through the town and turn right to end up at a lovely rocky beach and trails.

• Marston House, which used to be in Wiscasset, moved to Vinalhaven several years ago and sells incredibly expensive but also very beautiful French antique furniture and fabrics. It’s worth peeking in, but also worth checking ahead since it’s been closed on and off for the past few years.

Camden

In college, during the winter, I loved escaping up to Camden once in a while, but now it’s kind of touristy in a very yacht-forward way. That said, Villager Cafe is worth a stop to support Midcoast Villager,a rare recent success story for local news.

Points Beyond

• Fernald’s Neck Preserve - Most magical place in the world to swim, hear loons calling, see Jurassic ferns and tiny bright red mushrooms, walk through endless spongy pine forest. This is my number one spot for a secluded and lovely hike.

• Chase’s Daily–I spent a week in Belfast a few summers ago working on my book and ate all my lunches at this wonderful bakery/restaurant. Delicious bread, smoothies, fresh produce… I got a big jar of local buckwheat honey here to bring home, and it was a delight.

• 44 North Coffee in Stonington is pretty excellent if you’re down that way or about to catch the Isle au Haut ferry. Great baked goods, too.

• Isle au Haut– If you drive down to the end of Deer Isle, to Stonington, you can catch the mail boat to Isle Au Haut, which is technically part of Acadia but reached totally separately. Beautiful, remote, rocky, with wild raspberries and blueberries growing all over. Great for a day hike.

Artists Residencies

I don’t have any hotels to recommend, unfortunately, mostly because I’m cheap and also because there aren’t that many outside of the main tourist areas. I’ve stayed at a bunch of weird Airbnbs in the past, and this spring I was at Salty Quill Artists’ Residency. Others I’ve heard of and have my eye on, but can’t totally vouch for, include Monson Arts, Millay House, Hewnoaks, and Haystack for visual arts. This part of the world has drawn artists and writers from all over the world, and especially from New York, for many decades.

What to Read

• Blueberries for Sal: Kerplunk! Kerplunk!

• Essays of E.B. White, unless you’re a kid, in which case you can read Charlotte’s Web (also, why are you reading this if you’re a kid). If you’re a grown-up, “Once More to the Lake” is White’s great Maine essay on summer, time, and death, with a wild digression on motorboats.

• Directions to Myself is Heidi Julavits’s dedicated Maine memoir, but I like The Folded Clock even better, and it’s also partly about Maine. She is so chic.

What I Would Pack

• This spring, I bought these Norda sneakers for a more packable alternative to hiking boots and didn’t regret it for a second.

• Long underwear–maybe not in peak summer, but in May, it came in handy!

• L.L. Bean fleece. Or you could just pick one up at the outlet in Freeport on your way up?

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You already know I love a matchbook. I’ve been collecting them since college, throughout travels and many, many evenings dining out in NYC. I’d argue we’re in a matchbook renaissance, which I credit to The Match Group. Matchbooks are no longer just memories of a good meal or adventure; they’re tiny pieces of art you can bring home, and, increasingly, they’re almost too beautiful to use. As restaurants especially take more creative liberties with their designs, it feels almost like a crime to tear them apart to light my occasional candle.

When reporting on the rise of communal arts & craft activities, I kept getting advertisements for a “Matchbook Shadowbox Workshop” in NYC. During the $90 experience, you are invited to dig through buckets of matchbooks and affix them inside a shadow box frame (provided) amongst friends and strangers. Cute in theory, maybe even fun in practice, but also quite expensive and, I thought, a little tacky for my taste. Plus, why would I want art made of ephemera from places I’d never been?

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Still, I kept staring at the bowl of matchbooks in my living room, collecting dusk and taking up so much space, never to be used; they deserved better.

Turns out it’s extremely simple, pretty cheap, and highly satisfying to make your matchbox clutter into art. So what if it’s a little cheugy, that’s what bathroom walls are for!

Here’s how I did it:

Supplies:

• A shadow box frame in your size of choice1

• A tube of Gorilla Glue

• Lots of matchbooks collected during a life well lived

• TV show of choice (for background noise, of course)

Steps:

1. Dump all your matchbooks on the table; be sure to open them up to see if any are more beautiful on the inside than outside

2. Pick ~20 of your favorites in different shapes, sizes, and colors (it’s hard, I know!)

3. Lay them out on the mat of the frame. Play around here. Open them up, look at the back, etc. The key is not to put things too in line with one another and to play with height. Don’t clump every shape or design or color in one area. Let the matchbooks intermingle.

4. Once you have them laid out in a way you’re generally happy with, start gluing them down. It’s not an exact science; it’s not too serious; it’s matchbook art. (Note: you might want to glue some shut or glue some of the matches together if gravity might pull them out of place.)

5. Finally, hang it and wait for the compliments!

One of the best parts of being a travel journalist is getting to write about places I love. My recent guide to Shelter Island for Vogue was particularly special to me. I’ve been going to Shelter Island since I met Matt. I’d just turned 20, and he had just graduated from Oberlin; we were making the scary decision to stay together and do long-distance, and he took me to his favorite place on earth: the little island between the forks that create the end of Long Island. We’ve been going frequently ever since, lived there for nine months during the pandemic, and spent most of our summer weekends (and weeks) sneaking off early from summer internships to beat the traffic on the long Jitney ride. It’s a magical and enchanting place.

Even though it’s changed even in the last 10 years that I’ve been going (the ferries are more crowded, Sunset Beach has been TikTokified, everything’s more expensive), it’s still known for being blissfully quieter than its South Fork counterparts, and I hope it stays that way.

Now, with any good guide, you have to make choices and cuts. You have to think about the audience. I stand by every recommendation in that Vogue guide, but if you’re looking for a weekend that’s a little less refined, here is the Not-So-Vogue 36 Hours on Shelter Island:

Friday afternoon: Arrive mid-afternoon, having taken an early leave from work to catch a 12 pm Jitney to Greenport. There’s a 3 pm Bucks Game (the Shelter Island collegiate baseball team that plays other small leagues across the Hamptons). Pick up some tacos from Maria’s Kitchen and head to the field for the most idyllic, New England summer scene. Straight out of a Rockwell painting, it’s summer baseball. The games are short, so go home afterward and take an outdoor shower with your drink of choice.

Friday eve: Throw some burgers on the grill and enjoy a quiet night at home. If the weather is good, s’mores are encouraged. Nothing too rowdy; you have an early morning ahead of you.

Saturday Morning: The alarm goes off at 3:30 am. Yes, you read that right. Get up, drink some coffee, and be on the boat by 4 am, we’re going tuna fishing. It’s still dark out, so sleep for the first 30 minutes. By the time you wake up, it’ll be sunrise, and you’ll be greeted with pods of dolphins and maybe even a whale. It takes about an hour to get off the coast of Montauk, where you drop in some lines and immediately catch a tuna. It takes some time to wrestle it onto the boat, but it’s a beauty around 100 lbs. Now you can head back to shore. Eat your snacks and enjoy the ocean air.

Saturday Afternoon: Upon arriving home, there’s a bounty from Sylvester Manor and Havens Farmers Market, including the world’s best pickles – half sour preferred – to make some lunch with. Then you’ll take a nap on a hammock; you did get up at 3:30 am. When you wake up, call Commander Cody’s and order some fried chicken with sides to pick up around 6:30. Cut up some vegetables or make a simple summer salad and add it to a cooler with drinks of choice, lots of napkins, and some utensils.

Saturday Eve: Throw the cooler, a blanket and a couple of beach chairs in the trunk and make your first stop for a 5 pm martini at The Rams Head Inn. The bar will probably be a bit of a vibe, and sometimes there is live music. Then pick up that fried chicken and head to Crescent or Wades Beach for a sandy picnic. On the way home, stop at The Tuck Shop, it’s a non-negotiable. The soft-serve twist is always safe; the Moosetracks is also delicious.

Sunday Morning: Head out early for 9 holes at the (very) local golf course, Goat Hill. The fairways are dirt, and you can’t see the markers, but that’s the fun of it. Afterward, stop at Eccentric Bagel and get a Jalapeño and Cheddar bagel. No need to get any crazy toppings; stick with the simple stuff.

Sunday Afternoon: For lunch, enjoy the fruits of your labor with fresh tuna in tartar and Niçoise style. Have a glass or two of rosé if you’re trying to nap on the Jitney back. You might be able to sneak one more Tuck Shop in before crossing back over and catching that evening bus.

It’s hard to leave, but there’s always next weekend.

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I told myself I wouldn’t write too much about pregnancy (or motherhood), but it turns out it’s taking up a whole lot of my brain space, especially as I approach the end. Growing a human and watching the body change physically is magical and mind-boggling all at the same time. I feel insanely lucky that I’ve loved watching my body evolve, but it would be a lie if I said getting dressed every day wasn’t a struggle.

I’ve resisted buying traditional maternity clothes. Partially because I think it’s a waste of money, but also because, largely, maternity wear seems to no longer be a thing. The bumps are out from both a style and a practical perspective. Read all about it in this great article I wish I’d written. I’ve caved on a few necessary items, including leggings and tight t-shirts that cover the entire circumference of my growing body. But, for the most part, I’ve been blessed with being pregnant in a time when drawstring pants and elastic waistbands are mainstream.

Here are some of my favorite pairs that have been keeping me sane during pregnancy, plus a few honorable mentions that I’ve resisted the urge to press purchase on because I will, eventually, be able to put jeans back on my body…right? And no, not a single one of these is official “maternity,” so go wild!

The Forgiving Pant Matrix!

1. Roucha Pace Light Cotton - I’ve had an eye on these extremely light, partially sheer cotton poplin pants all summer. They’re meant for the beach, but you can wear them anywhere… if you dare. They’re pretty expensive for such a casual look, but the material and quality are high.

2. Leset Kyoto Carpenter Pant - these were my favorite pair of pants pre-pregnancy, and they remained a favorite until about 6 months, when they could no longer contain my booty. But that’s ok! I’ll be happy to wear them often post-partum.

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When Noma was “canceled” (even if ever so briefly) this spring, I wasn’t surprised or even that disappointed. While I’ve never been to Noma, and I’m not above it – if someone wants to fly me to Copenhagen with a booked seat (that they were paying for), I certainly won’t say no – it’s never been a table I’ve wanted to plan an entire trip around. I’ve been to Copenhagen a few times, had incredible food, and no regrets about my lack of Noma experience. Look, I’m sure it’s amazing, maybe even transcendent, but something about the theatrics of the experience, and the high-stakes innovation in small, disguised bites just doesn’t really appeal to me.

I’ve always much preferred experiences rooted in their place; those guided by the feeling of an environment, and that simple couldn’t exist anywhere else. I’ve also learned throughout my travels that the best meals often aren’t the ones that require a reservation 6 months in advance, but the ones that come from hunger, discovery, and good timing. Even so, I continue to plan trips around exceptional bites.

Here is a collection of spots I’d book a whole trip to experience. Some I’ve had the pleasure of dining at already, others I simply continue to dream about. It’s a real mix of high and low, proof I have range. Enjoy!

Hiša Franko (Slovenia)

The restaurant that inspired this whole list. I planned an entire trip around making it to this many Michelin-starred spot in the Slovenian countryside, and I have zero regrets. In fact, I’ve since convinced not one, but two friends to plan their own trips to Slovenia, stopping at this very same place. Yes, it’s expensive; yes, it’s out of the way; and the dining experience has a whole host of theatrics that go alongside your meal — potatoes roasted underground and stinky cheese fermented under the kitchen for an ungodly amount of time — but it’s also deeply rooted in the environement and the setting is part of the fun. It’s a little country house, truly nothing fancy in the best way. It’s all about the ingredients grown nearby and the careful preparation. Book a room and spend the night because breakfast the next morning (which is included) was almost as good as dinner.

(P.S. Slovenia is also a magical trip, where we barely ran into a single other American tourist, which is always something to be proud of. Want our full Slovenia itinerary?!)

Casa Lawa (Italy)

I can’t believe I went to Catania and didn’t know about Casa Lawa. The vibrant guesthouse near Mt. Etna is all about seasonal retreats and culinary experiences that are very coastal and Italian. The cherry festival or watermelon retreat is really calling my name right now. Tack on a few extra days in Taormina or head south towards Ortigia, bellissimo!

Rondo (Copenhagen)

I may not plan a trip to Denmark for Noma, but I will for their pastries, and I’ve had my eye on Rondo. I was particularly captured by this pastry with fresh strawberries, goat’s milk cream, and rhubarb & strawberry jam. It’s topped with woodruff. I don’t know what that is, but I don’t care. They also have sourdough loaves larger than the average person’s head. I would happily find a park to devour the entire thing with some cheese and orange wine on a bright summer night.

Son Blanc Farmhouse (Spain)

I can’t resist a good farm-to-table experience, and Menorca is on my short list for a variety of reasons, so this spot has got to be a number one driver. Set on a regenerative farm, Son Blanc is part restaurant, part hotel, part farm. They have zero-waste practices and long communal dining tables. It looks like a dreamy getaway.

Mac Shack in Wellfleet (Cape Cod)

I grew up going to Cape Cod, and I can confidently say you will not find better fried clam bellies. It’s about the only reason I’ll sit in Cape Cod traffic. Extra tarter sauce, please.

D’une Île (France)

From the team behind Septime in Paris, a countryside stone estate focused on fresh vegetation and local provisions. The three-course prix-fixe changes daily. You can probably sense a theme here that I’m a sucker for a beautiful farm setting paired with perfect food.

Eongteoli Fried Chicken (South Korea)

After a couple of drinks at a microbrewery, I had the best fried chicken of my life at this fairly well-known hole-in-the-wall spot in South Korea. It came with copious amounts of diakon radishes and more beer. We ate at Mingles the evening before (a consistently top-50 restaurant in the world), and this is the meal I’d make a trip back to Seoul for.

Cheers!

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I just wrote a piece for Vogue all about the new wave of fake florals, so good they could maybe defy the faux-floral stigma, inspired by the newest addition to the space, Apartment387.

In the original pitch, I’d proposed including faux flowers made from a range of materials, including those less concerned with fooling the eye and more interested in treating the flower as a form to be played with across medias. What I love so much about these faux and fake flowers is that they’re examples of ephemeral beauty. They capture the precious elements we love about real flowers — color, texture, movement — while adding an additional element of whimsy. They’re turning naturally occurring patterns and designs on their heads in new and creative ways. Plus, they won’t die a week after you spend (too much) money on them. ALSO, they’re way better for the environment.

Nothing will ever be able to replace the art and skill of a true, natural floral bouquet, and I’m not suggesting these should. But, a home where live flowers live amongst faux and sculptural varieties is what a home filled with art is all about.

My editor (rightfully) felt the piece would be stronger with a focus on fool-worthy faux florals, but that left me with a collection of talented makers I’d saved and studied who are playing with floral forms and shapes. So, I’m going to share them all with you here!

Special call out: How to Make a Floral Arrangement That Will Last All Summer

In my mind, T Magazine can do almost no wrong. If you feel inspired to try to make some handmade paper poppies yourself, this seems like a pretty (intense) step-by-step. I commend anyone who tries it. I’m more of a Paper Source paper flower kit kind of girl — although those seem to have gone extinct. Long live the crafts corner of Paper Source. (video by By David Chow c/o T Mag)

Here are some of my favorite not-too-real flowers I saw this spring:

Kate Friedler and Paperlene’s German-made paper arrangements would be great in a little girl’s room.

Handmade beaded florals a la Danish designer and artist Katrine Roug, full beaded bouquets by Henri Purnell (if you’re in Berlin, he offers workshops), and ornate arrangements from leMETIÉR for a nightstand.

Crystal flowers by Lucie Claudia will never wilt, or perhaps you’re more into funky, fairylike glass flowers by Clara Schweers.

Ceramic calla lilies by Cosa Ceramics could rest forever on a mantle, and colorful, hand-formed, sculptural flower lights by Ashley Zabarte could hang on a wall. A poppy light made from recycled plastic by Lidwien would light up a living room in a new way, and these textural tabletop silver and copper flowers by jewelry designer Wette Mille add a whole new dimension to dinner.

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Last year, I put together an adorably fun decision flowchart to help you find your perfect Upstate hotel, and then shared over 100 recommendations for places to visit during your Upstate adventure.

Here’s an update to that massive recommendation list with new spots that opened this year and replacements for favorites that closed.

You might ask: What makes me an expert? Well, I’ve spent my whole life going up to the area, then lived in Hudson full-time and spent a lot of time in my car reporting pieces about restaurants and folks up here for Vogue, T Mag, Times Union, and more. Now, I am obsessive about staying up to date on the happenings. Plus, I like to think I have pretty good taste. So, while I’m not the expert to end all experts, I definitely know a little more than someone who just got back from their first weekend up the Amtrak line.

Note: Some of the best things are behind the paywall — including the list of all my Hudson favorites. There are some real insider goodies in there, if I do say so myself.

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CATSKILL

Stay/

• Camptown - motorside inn turned stylish boutique hotel with pool

Eat & Drink/

• Phos - Greek food with Hudson Valley ingredients

• Hemlock - named one of the best bars in the country for good reason

• Casa Susanna - elevated Mexican at Camptown with homemade masa

• Julia’s Local - seasonal dishes in a homey environment with ingredients grown down the road. call to reserve!

• Willa’s - now in Glen Fall’s house with the same in-house pastries and more

• Cafe 27 - vibey, cafe with a listening room in the back, great matcha

• Subversive Malting & Brewing - big burgers and brews with plenty of outdoor seating

• Gracie’s Diner - classic diner featuring homemade donuts

See & Do/

• Foreland - collection of galleries and shops like the new Grains of Paradise

• Cole House - Hudson River School artists’ house

• Hoe Bowl - down and dirty bowling alley

• Hi Way Drive In - drive-in theater with ultimate nostalgia factor

Shop/

• Toko - Japanese provisions in a tiny market

• Kaaterskill Market - the spot for woven baskets

• The Little Art Shop - just as it sounds, small but mighty

• Catskill Collectibles - for Rip Van Wink-o-philes like myself

• Catskill Chocolate - women-owned chocolate shop that’s just… outstanding

• Hartland Shop - roadside shop for stationary and coffee

• A. Therien - vintage design books and high-end ceramics

Windham/Hunter & Tannersville

Stay/

• The Henson - sweet little hotel that feels like staying in a friend’s stylish house

• Scribner’s (specifically in The Rounds) - cottages with Japanese soaking tubs, enough said

• Hotel Lilien - 1890s estate turned boutique hotel in a very not-haunted way

Eat/

• Deer Mountain Inn - classic Americana menu in mountain lodge setting

• Lucky Catskills - Chinese-inspired dishes like dumplings and amazing mapo tofu

• Tanners Boathouse - bar on the lake with bbq

• Fred’s Coffee & Donuts - drive-through apple cider donuts

• Matilda - jaw-droppingly good dinner inside The Henson

• Fellow - a coffee and cinnamon bun stop (if you get there early enough)

See & Do/

• Rip Van Winkle Hike - hike up to the rock that Rip “fell asleep” at

• Fly fishing - take a fly fishing lesson if the season permits

Shop/

• Paracasa - shoppy-shop / cafe owned by The Henson guys

• Idler Books - petit bookstore

• PIDGIN & N O R M A N — H A S S E L R I I S - detour for two impeccable design stores

  ---

Accord, Rosendale and High Falls:

Stay/

• Inness - Scandi-vibes in the Catskills

• Six Bells Inn - almost creepy storybook-vibes in the Catskills

Eat/

• Darlings - fun, fish-forward, has a disco ball

• Westwind - cidery in a barn setting with good food

• Ollies - top-notch pizza with family-friendly vibes

• The Big Cheese - classic hippy town cafe with great smelling lentil patties and, yes, coffee

• Restaurant at Inness - farm-to-table in gorgeous modern-farm-Inness setting

• Bkyn Sour - new sourdough bakery with interiors by Amalia Graziani of Callisto Farms

See & Do/

• Skate Time - skate rink owned by BjornQorn

• Woodstock Farm Sanctuary - touch some cows, goats, and pigs

• Saunderkill Farms - U-pick, the most satisfying scam of them all

Shop/

• Good.good.shop - curated vintage and womens clothing

• Postmark Books - well-curated bookstore

• Clubhouse Vintage - excellent selection of vintage (jeans, jeans, jeans)

Hudson & its close surroundings

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This is a post about The Babymoon, that strange, popular, funny trip that pregnant women are “supposed” to take with their partners sometime before travel is off limits. It’s become a kind of last hurrah trip for expecting couples before everything changes, and it’s no longer just two at the table.

The original term “Babymoon” was coined by the British author Sheila Kitzinger and actually referred to the time after the baby arrived, when the new parents were meant to cocoon with the newest familial addition, without work or distractions — a time for just the three of them. Sometime around the 2000’s, though, the term was repurposed into a trip akin to a honeymoon, but instead of celebrating the beginning of something (i.e., a marriage), a babymoon, interestingly, marks the end of something.

I’ll take any excuse to go on a trip, so when the opportunity came to visit Guana Island, I decided to treat it like our babymoon. It ticked most of the boxes I would’ve looked for anyway: warm weather, a beach to lounge at, very few decisions to make, not too long a flight. I was just around 16 weeks, feeling good, and felt like I was “popping,” looking absolutely adorable in my little one-piece. (Note to reader, I didn’t know what real “popping” had in store for me).

It’s a trip with a surprising number of parameters. Here are some things to consider:

• Timing: There’s a sweet spot of being pregnant, feeling pregnant, and then being too pregnant. Most doctors advise you to stop air travel around 36 weeks. Based on my little experience, I think that 20ish weeks is a perfect time for this trip. You’re starting to show, but your energy is back, yet you can still justify a prenatal massage.

• Distance: There are a few things to consider:

  • Do you want to drive or are you comfortable flying? If you’re flying, how far are you willing to go?

  • Consider the distance you’re willing to be from your hospital (or a good hospital) if, God forbid, something goes wrong.

  • Either way, please wear compression socks.

• Activity: How much do you want to move your body? Are you someone who enjoys walking endlessly and popping into coffee shops for relief? Or do you want to sit on a beach with mind-numbingly limited things to do? What’s your tolerance for boredom? Are you in the mood to be distracted or to only see your partner for a few days?

• Interaction: Do you want people asking you how far along you are? Do you want to make small talk? Are you ok with children playing in the pool? What if there’s a bachelorette trip at your hotel?

If I were planning another one (hint, hint, Matt), I might do a little Portuguese road trip…

The flight isn’t too long, the cities aren’t overwhelmingly big, and tinned fish is an excellent source of brain food for my little fetus…

I would start off with a few days in Lisbon, maybe stay somewhere luxe like Hotel das Amoreiras or Torel Palace. We’d spend a couple of days walking the streets, stopping into little cafes and adorable children’s clothing shops, and finding fresh seafood spots.

Then, we’d rent a car and go to one of the standout farm hotels near the beach, like Casas da Quinta de Cima or Amaria, where we could relax, wander, do some ~light~ physical activity, and enjoy farm-to-table produce and just be in each other’s company.

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For further inspo, I asked some cool moms and moms-to-be what they did for their babymoons & where they’d go if they could do it all over again:

Helen Nguyen of Preserve Travel

We actually took two!

The first one was to Tokyo and Vietnam. We started our trip at Bvlgari Tokyo before going to Amanoi. When I was planning our babymoon, I envisioned a familiar, comforting place. My partner and I try to go to SE Asia at least 1 or 2 a year to eat and work. We figured it would be our last trip to SE Asia for at least 2-3 years, so why not?

I went around 16 weeks and would do it again! I timed it around the second trimester to ensure I felt well enough to be active and comfortable. I was very flexible with our itinerary, and most of the trip was booked at the last minute in case I wasn’t feeling 100%. I didn’t make a single dinner reservation and was perfectly content going with the flow.

The only thing I booked was a photographer from Saigon. I found the photographer on Instagram after researching and messaging numerous fashion pages lol. I convinced the photographer to fly to Quy Nhon for my maternity shoot. In hindsight, it sounds a bit nuts, but I have zero regrets. I will cherish these photos for the rest of my life!

The second “babymoon” was to Four Seasons Naviva. It was a last-minute getaway. I loved the hotel and fully took advantage of their wellness program. Also, it’s an adults-only property, which was important to me!

If the next babymoon allows, I’m going to Paris in late spring or early fall and spending 4 nights in Paris and 6 nights in the South of France, split between Villa La Coste and Colombe d’Or. If my son was coming, I’d swap Villas La Coste for Four Seasons Cap Ferrat. Mainly because they have a phenomenal kids’ club.

Otherwise, I’d opt for an easy staycation at Rosewood Miramar. Nothing beats their beach setup or fish tacos.

Gavin Runzel

We picked Jamaica because we were just like, “okay, what’s close, what’s beach, where have we not already been?” Everyone was recommending Rockhouse, which was so sweet and great and really relaxing. It’s definitely for the more adventurous because there are ladders down into the ocean, you know what I mean?

They have their sister resort called Skylark, which is probably where someone else on a babymoon might prefer, only because it’s like right on the stretch of Seven Mile Beach, with calm blue waters, and you can just lay out in the beach chair all day.

It’s not all-inclusive, but I appreciate that the food was very good, and I thought, by hotel standards, it was reasonably priced. It’s definitely more of a bohemian, rustic hotel vibe. If you’re a bougie traveler, you might prefer Goldeneye or Round Hill, which are ritzier. I think this [Rockhouse] is definitely more if you’re the type of person who loves boutique hotels, loves a little bit more of an authentic vibe— it’s a happy medium of feeling a certain level of luxury, but it’s not a super high-end resort.

Jordan Rose of Atelier Le Monde Travel & on Substack

I didn’t take a single traditional babymoon; instead, I did a series of “mini babymoons.” Last year was incredibly travel-heavy with friends’ weddings falling throughout nearly my entire pregnancy, so we layered in personal time wherever we could. It actually ended up being a really special way to experience different places.

One of my favorites was traveling a bit throughout the South of France: We stayed two nights in each spot: Hôtel du Couvent in Nice, Cap d’Antibes Beach Hotel in Antibes, Château de Théoule in Théoule-sur-Mer, and Les Roches Rouges in Saint-Raphaël.

My final babymoon was in Paris, where I was about six months pregnant. We stayed at Château Voltaire, which was the perfect balance. I still had so much energy, so I leaned into the city—one of my favorite cities. So much shopping, galleries, museums, food! At the same time, the hotel had a small spa, which gave us moments to decompress and reset when needed. That combination of movement and stillness really worked for me.

That said, if I were planning a babymoon again, I might take a slightly different approach and opt for a more traditional, full resort experience. Somewhere warm, by the water, where the pace is inherently slower—days spent reading, napping, swimming, and having easy access to treatments and wellness. I think there’s something to be said for fully leaning into rest during that time, especially as you get further along. A place like Amanyara in Turks and Caicos would be at the top of that list.

Krissy Jones of SKY TING & Krissy Jones PR on Substack

We went to Japan while I was pregnant: Tokyo, Kyoto, Izu, and then back to Tokyo. It wasn’t exactly planned as a traditional “babymoon,” but it became the most special trip.

Kyoto was the heart of it for me. The temples, the gardens, the history, the quiet beauty. It felt so spiritual and meaningful to experience while pregnant. We hired a guide for the temples, which I really recommend, because it made everything feel deeper and more connected. And then Tokyo gave me my city, sexy fix. Amazing food, design, shopping, energy, and that feeling of being out in the world with my man, making memories before everything changes. I loved having both: the sacred, slower Kyoto side and the fun, stylish, alive Tokyo side.

We also went to Izu, which was quiet and restorative and close to nature. At that point in pregnancy, I didn’t want a packed itinerary every day. I wanted beauty, comfort, great food, a soft bed, a little adventure, and space to just be together.

My biggest babymoon advice would be to choose a place that feels nourishing but still fun. Pregnancy is such a tender, in-between time, but you still want to feel like yourself. For me, the dream combination was a little culture, a little nature, a little romance, and a little glamour. I loved my babymoon!

It was perfect for February. If I were planning one right now and had to go somewhere else, I would go to Greece.

(sidecar note: read Krissy’s full itinerary here).

Alexis Benveniste of Extra Credit

We actually didn’t do a [official] babymoon. I feel like we traveled a lot together. But we went to Anguilla with my in-laws for my mother-in-law’s birthday, and it was fantastic. It was great to have family time, and really relaxing, and just drink virgin piña coladas and sleep. We sat on the beach. It ended up being the dream accidental babymoon.

When we first found out I was pregnant very, very early, we went to the Berkshires and stayed at Tourists.

I’m also a firm believer in not forcing yourself to do a babymoon. If you feel like you’ve already traveled to really incredible places with your partner (especially depending on how the pregnancy experience is going for you, because I think if you were uncomfortable and tired, you just wanna be at home and be comfortable), there’s no need to push yourself to do a babymoon. Maybe instead, do a great trip before your baby crawls — something just the three of you.

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Let’s dive in…

In the early 20th century, Jews weren’t allowed to stay at many hotels in the Catskills (or anywhere for that matter). But they still wanted a place to escape the hot city. So they started opening their own hotels. The Catskills was a popular tourist spot for a couple of reasons: one being the romantic American landscape, another being the rise of interest in activities like fly-fishing, and the third (perhaps most importantly), there was a railway system that took passengers up to the Western Catskills.

From the 1920s to the 60s, family hotels and resorts sprang up across Sullivan & Ulster Counties. Some of the most famous names included Browns, a nearly 500-room resort with a slogan “There’s More of Everything”. Grossinger, which many say inspired Dirty Dancing, had its own post office and airstrip, and was the first resort in the world to feature artificial snow for skiing. The most well-known and longest-running Kutchers Resort was infamous for its entertainment and sports programming. They hosted boxers like Muhammad Ali, and basketball tournaments with NBA players (star Wilt Chamberlain worked there as a bellhop, and they had to specially make him a bed and a uniform).

Not only were these hotels sites of overflowing kosher dining rooms, multiple swimming pools, golf courses, on-site shops and salons, but also hotbeds for entertaining and credited as the starting stage for many famous Jewish comedians, from Jerry Lewis to Mel Brooks. All activities, entertainment, and food were included! At its peak in the ‘50s and ‘60s, there were over 500 resorts and 50,000 bungalows in the area.

Then, for several reasons, it all came crashing down. As the next gen of Jews started assimilating and as the antisemitic policies that forced them to go to the Catskills faded away, people started to go elsewhere, like the Hamptons. Some took to airplanes, an increasingly popular and affordable mode of travel, to visit farther-flung places. Slowly, the train lines that brought visitors back and forth from the city to the Catskills stopped running as frequently. Plus, more women went to work full-time, so they could no longer afford to spend entire weeks in the Upstate air.

By the 1970s, there was virtually no regular train service to the Borscht Belt, and most of the smaller bungalow-style hotels and casual getaways had closed. Big players like Kutchers attempted to hold on, some appealing to non-Jewish demographics and the conference circuit (according to Welcome to Kutcher’s, a quirky – and free! – documentary about the hotel). But even they eventually had to close.

It’s a completely fascinating history; I can’t look away, I can’t stop reading, I can’t stop looking through dramatic photographs of moss-covered pools and dining rooms stuck in time: there one August day and never returned to the summer after.

It sounds nice to me — the idea of a family-friendly vacation with activities for everyone, both together and separately. The type of place where you see the same people every year, they know your name, and you’re familiar with the hallways. You’ve seen that episode of The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, right? It looks pretty fabulous. I always wanted vacation friends!

Now, most of these resorts have been destroyed, many have been bought up by developers, and some have been turned into condos. The Concord Resort Hotel is now the site of Resort World Catskills 🤢. A few of those old Bungalow camps have been repurposed into Orthodox summer camps.

The Borscht Belt in its glory is certainly gone, and in this day and age (and economy), it would be nearly impossible to replicate. There’s no way to build a resort of this scale and keep it affordable enough for entire families to stay for weeks in the summer. The cost of food and entertainment alone would be astronomical. But, probably more importantly, the way we vacation has changed. Most folks don’t want to go to the same place over and over again. It’s never been easier to go away, and discovering new hotels, even in the Catskills, is an equally easy feat. Also, very few families travel as multi-generational units. While wonderful, new hotels and spas are popping up in Ulster and Sullivan Counties, unlike the resorts that existed there in the heyday of the Borscht Belt, these places, for the most part, lack a sense of community. Most people want to escape the city to get away from people, not to be surrounded by loud crowds of chattering multi-generational families and kids running around. I get it. I feel it. That doesn’t make it any less sad.

A dedicated group of historians won’t let this region’s history be forgotten, though. In 2023, the Borscht Belt Museum opened in Ellenville, NY. It’s a quiet, kind of rundown town, but the museum is phenomenal. It’s small, filled with ephemera and replicas of the bungalows. There’s also an ongoing project to install historical markers across the region where these iconic spaces once stood. While markers might feel like a kind of silly gesture, they make a difference.

It’s easy to drive around the Catskills, to pull up to the beautiful, fancy hotels and feel like you’re somewhere new, somewhere untouched, the great outdoors. But if you look hard enough (or even do the tiniest bit of research), you’ll remember everywhere has a past.

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Sometime over the last couple of years, all the best cafés started to look like homes. I find myself snapping photos and sourcing furniture inspiration inside latte spots, asking who makes the lights in tea shops, and looking under mugs to find the ceramicists that I want to fill my own cabinets with.

At this year’s Salone del Mobile Milano, everything was a cafe.

I keep coming back to Marimekko’s whimsical floral installation alongside a Finnish-inspired aperitivo bar showcasing bright tablecloths in a casual Italian bistro backdrop. It was sweet and youthful in a refreshing way, serious production without serious feeling.

I liked that Bitossi Home was a fresh bakery with lots of bread and olive oil throughout. The premiere of La DoubleJ’s new headquarters revealed a first-floor dining area that looked like a chic dining hall or casual bistro. Alessi also went heavy on the bread and even heavier on the butter. Marni went all in with the full espresso counter experience, branded espresso cups, and martinis served.

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You can’t have a fashion or design event without food these days. I learned this lesson years ago at Care of Chan, but the sentiment has only grown as branded butter and over-the-top grazing tables are the new norm. When executed properly, it’s a masterful way to engage attendees directly in the product and a full sensory experience. I also like that it often gets people off their phones and encourages moments of tactile connection.

I loved seeing that Marni’s sweet little cafe featured metal roll-top sugar bowls, similar to the ones I’ve been using as catchalls in my home for years.

I first spotted them behind the bar at a local Brooklyn brewery. They were lined up, holding sliced lemons and limes and stacked olives. I watched as the bartender gracefully lifted the lid and grabbed a lemon wedge for my iced tea, and I thought: That’s a creative way to hide things. I could do that… with my keys, matchbooks in the bathroom, laundry quarters, and other change… and after some searching, I realized it would be a relatively cheap experiment for my apartment. Less than $15 a bowl, these spheres are sleek, simple, and cost less than most catch-all dishes I’ve had. I’ve since found a use for them in every single room.

So yes, a sugar bowl can be a keyholder, and a messy tablescape might be the ultimate artform. Everything wants to be a café, and I understand why. They’re the ultimate salon, the perfect place. They’re for smoking a cigarette and drinking a cappuccino along some European canal midday on a Wednesday. It’s the dream, no? If a tiny sugar bowl or a bright tablecloth gets me closer to that dream, I’m willing to give it a try.

We began planning our trip to Japan a year in advance. It was a lot of hypothetical conversations and afternoons spent in front of the computer staring at Chrome with endless tiny tabs of hotels, restaurants, and blog posts; pages that I’d eventually just close from decision paralysis and overwhelm. Then came the recommendations from friends — the shared phone notes, the Google docs, the spreadsheets filled with people’s own research, the maps they marked up — many fed by the same lists I was reading and the same TikTok videos I was seeing. I got emails full of recommendations from experts who said we’d need an introduction to get into certain restaurants, a reservation a year in advance. It can’t possibly be this difficult… can it?

After choosing our route and booking our hotels, it felt like I blinked and we were at the airport preparing to board our 14-hour flight to Tokyo. It just then dawned on me that despite all the research, the saved posts, the Google map absolutely drowning in stars, I’d made virtually zero reservations. I immediately went to work, only to find that, of course, all the places I wanted to go — the spots I was told you “must” go to — were booked, probably by more responsible travelers who’d actually pressed reserve 3 months ago instead of leaving the tab open day after day.

I felt like a failure. The trip was ruined. Or so the nauseating number of videos I’d been served over the last 5 months explaining all the things I had to book before going to Japan would have me think.

Of course, the trip was not a failure; of course, nothing was ruined, but instead of letting food be our guide, as it so often does on my travels, I found other destinations to inform our days — shops. Lots and lots of shops. From there, the food came, often from unexpected places, better than we could’ve ever imagined. And in not being tied to a schedule of reservations and seated amongst slews of other Americans who’d seen the same lists and videos as I, we found our days were long in a good way, we wandered through quiet neighborhoods and stumbled upon true treasures, ate way too many pastries, had the best fried chicken out of closet sized restaurants, showstopping onigiri from streetside windows and stopped in lots of 7/11s. Yes, not every meal was the best food I’ve had in my entire life, but most were better than we’d ever get stateside.

While I won’t call it a guide (we don’t need another one of those, especially for Japan), here is some Japan travel inspiration in the form of shops, objects, and stumble-upons that made an underbaked trip still exceptional.

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Tokyo

1. Starving and walking around one morning in Nezu, we couldn’t resist this tiny sandwich shop. We didn’t really know what we were eating, but we knew it was good.

2. Nobori was a magical homeware store we found on the way to Kappabashi Street (aka Kitchen Street). Gorgeous shelves of glassware, lots of Japanese-made steel accessories, tons of incense and accessories (2b). I wanted to take everything home with me.

3. Rich, deep hot chocolate served with fresh churros in a hidden courtyard on a windy street on our way to Yanaka Ginza.

4. Kakimori was just one of the many stationary stores I made us detour for. This one is filled with smooth pens and custom notebooks.

5. Ifuji is a closet-sized store filled with handmade shaker-inspired wooden boxes. The kind of thing from the type of expert that could only exist in Japan.

6. This Australian-inspired cafe also had the most giftable hot sauce.

7. Despite being late to the game, we did manage to snag a reservation at Udatsu Sushi (on the infatuation’s list from Kiera Wright-Ruiz, which was filled with excellent recommendations). It was certainly modern and definitely caters to tourists, but that’s ok, it was still delightful bites over 15+ courses.

Kyoto

1. Hikiniku to Come was the one reservation I made months in advance, and I am so freaking happy I did. Just three melt-in-your-mouth beef patties served over rice with all sorts of fixins. I wish I could go there again right now.

2. We walked into this coffee shop to escape the rain, only to discover they were the producers of these gorgeous stainless steel coffee, tea, and candy containers. Of course, I had to buy one, with a matching tiny brass spoon that fits perfectly under its top.

3. This corner store, Poj Studio, had all the homeware it promised, plus some of the world’s softest towels that I didn’t see coming, see 3b.

4. After a peaceful tasting at Tearoom Toka, we bought the hojicha, which I’m yet to use but promise I will break into soon.

5. Japan is known for jeans. I bought an indigo-dyed pair from Monotaro Jeans, and I’m extremely happy about it.

6. Before dinner one night, in need of a snack and a beer, we found ourselves at Before9, when it suddenly dawned on me I’d been here 10 years before, the last time I was in Kyoto.

7. We did something I’ve never done before: left a hotel early. And instead, we checked into the Ace Kyoto. It was worth it. Sometimes, you need something a little familiar.

Kanazawa

1. We couldn’t leave Japan without bringing back miso and soy sauce; these Yamato varieties are made locally in Kanzawa.

2. The one thing Matt wanted from our trip to Japan was a knife, so we got one (not pictured) and beautiful kitchen scissors at Byakko, a well-curated and serene knife shop (unlike the Kyoto ones that have gone viral and had lines around the block).

3. I found these beautiful little rice bran wax candles from Takazawa in a calm store on a random street. You can find Takazawa in the states, and if you do, jump on it for the perfect burn.

4. Had the best night sleep of our life at Kurumiya Kanazawa, which I found on BOOKING.COM. Yes, you read that right. The tiny boutique hotel has serene rooms with private onsen baths in each, it was true heaven.

5. We queued up with all the neighborhood on Saturday morning for treats from f.bakery, and the chestnut-stuffed bread situation blew my mind.

6. Upon arriving in Kanazawa, we were starving, and the most perfect, completely under-the-radar lunch spot appeared around the corner, Yamazatono No Sho. Just onigiri and miso soup, what could be better?

7. We had to go to Nonstop Coffee Stand & Roastery twice because the first time we didn’t understand that you do indeed have to crouch down and walk through the half-sized door to access the closet-sized roastery with the best coffee in town.

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P.S. You like my new branding?! Courtesy of the always talented Ilana Curtis.

I first pitched this piece back in April, but it wasn’t until August that I finally found the right hook with the right editor, and the wheels were set in motion. The overall thesis for the piece was based on the growth of what I like to call “community craft spaces.” These are places in which the sole purpose is to gather with people and do some arts and crafts. My theory was that the changing economy (we’re all too poor to go out and eat), evolving habits around drinking (everyone is sober now), and the way social media and technology make us all want to revert to more “primitive,” DIY activities (my TikTok feed constantly makes me believe I could knit a scarf… I can’t), were all driving the growth of this new craft trend. A recent market report stated that the Arts & Crafts scene is rising, projected to increase by billions by 2030, despite this year’s tragic bankruptcy announcement from Joanne Fabrics.

When I began reporting the piece, I spent a couple of early fall nights doing arts and crafts with friends in these spaces. This included doodling with watercolors at Happy Medium in Greenpoint and thumbing through old magazines to collage in the Navy Yard with RecCreate. Unfortunately, I am not a very skilled crafter and walked away from both evenings with works of art that’ll do nothing but sit in my desk drawer, but that wasn’t really the point. Spending those evenings reinforced something I’d been feeling for a while… as adults, we should really be having more playdates.

I’ve been thinking about this a lot, especially since I moved to a place where I knew almost no one. Going out for drinks is fun, gathering for dinner is lovely, but you know what’s really fun? Going for a hike! Going to a cake decorating class! Taking a sewing course! Inviting friends over to make holiday cards!

In NYC especially, “hanging out” as adults almost always means getting together over a meal. But many of my richest friendships were made as a kid when I would invite friends over to play with stamps and my embossing machine, to create stickers, or bake cookies. The foundations were laid in a good old-fashioned playdate, not drinks at the newest LES bar.

When the arts and crafts movement originated in the mid-19th century in England, it was a reaction to industrial life — people wanted to make beautiful, decorative things to create environments that countered the effects of technological advancements (which enabled mass production). In Europe, this mentality expanded into society itself, inviting individuals to examine their labor and the modern work systems they’d become newly accustomed to. Many of the designers in the movement this time were socialist, but that’s getting a little off-topic…

The desire for alternative modes of socializing now — in the form of these community craft spaces, for example — feels undeniably linked to our growing intolerance for long work hours and our ever-increasing mind-numbing phone addictions. Art is one antidote, but so is play.

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Once we switched our focus to a New York City wedding, more specifically a Brooklyn wedding, everything fell into place. A restaurant felt natural to our characters and couple-story, and Rule of Thirds hit all the marks. I don’t regret one thing about this decision… in fact, let me be clear early on:

I really don’t regret anything about my wedding. But, if I had to do it again, here are a few things I might consider:

Phone a friend: Some of the weddings we’ve since attended really lovely touches of family and friends who helped make that day happen — from designing menus or invitations to hand-embroidering initials on a napkin. It would’ve been fun to engage some talented people in more official ways. Though I think there’s a fine line between asking your friends to help and expecting them to do labor without pay, in hindsight, it would’ve been nice to work with some friends (or even some more unique vendors like Papir by Hannah) to do some of the delicate details and unique things.

Ditch the white: I had an impossible time finding an outfit for my rehearsal dinner / welcome drinks. I also left it till the last minute, which had me panicking in Soho. I like what I landed on, a pair of white trousers that made my legs look many miles long and a feathery crop top, but it wasn’t cheap. I told myself I’d wear the white again and that it was like an investment. It wasn’t. I was lying to myself. If I could do it all again, I’d take that money and spend it on something epic and colorful. Don’t worry, no one else is going to be wearing what you are.

Let them speak: We very intentionally limited the speeches at the wedding itself because we wanted to get onto the dance floor, and because I was nervous about asking friends to talk about us. I wish more of my friends had spoken at our welcome drinks. I wish someone had reminded me that this day is supposed to be about me (well, and Matt), and that it’s ok to want the spotlight this one time.

Let the night end: Our Welcome Drinks ended at 9pm, which was very appropriate. But when the lights came on, people wanted more, and my father-in-law graciously put his card down and extended the open bar by an hour. Everything worked out fine, but I would’ve loved that extra hour of sleep. So, remember always to leave the people wanting more.

Test the dress: This is simple. The pictures where you can see an underwear line or worse…will haunt me forever. I should’ve tested the dress for all emotions and elements.

A few things I don’t regret at all, and the secret behind my most sacred — and complimented — thing from our wedding: the matchbooks.

Two is better than one: Having our two best friends co-officiate our wedding is, without a doubt, one of the best decisions we made. They did such an excellent job, and it was unique and fun. I didn’t want anything to feel too serious; I wanted it to be intentional. And while I’m not saying we started a trend… I am saying I’ve seen a few people also do it since.

Nothing but the dance floor: We wanted people on the dance floor, so we put it in an entirely separate room. After dinner service was over, we gave people no option other than to get on it or leave. The real key to a packed dancefloor and an excellent night: stay on it yourself. Matt and I were on the dance floor from the moment the band started until it ended, and everyone else followed suit. (My hot take: a band will always get more people dancing, because there is a social obligation not to let the band sing to an empty room. With a DJ, the same rules just don’t apply.)

Get bartenders who know what they’re doing: As far as we could tell (and as far as we’re told), there was very little waiting for a drink at our wedding. I hate a line, and I didn’t want people stuck trying to get their tequila sodas. Well, people were throwing back complicated orders, including my friends who spent the whole night drinking whiskey sodas, without issue. People still remind us of how drunk they got at our wedding.

Feed the people: Every time someone brings up our wedding, they always say it’s the best food they’ve ever had at a wedding. We can’t take any credit for that, but we did make sure to have lots of food throughout the entire event and end with pizza at Paulie Gee’s sliceshop down the street for all you can eat slices + beer and wine (but let me tell you, by the end of the night people just want a place to debrief, sit down, and stuff their faces).

Those matchbooks: I was determined to find a particular type I’d seen at my favorite restaurants and made by the coolest brands. It was not a simple matchbook with an illustration on the outside, but a special variety in which the matchsticks themselves have individual illustrations (different on the front and back). The problem was, there’s only one place that does this — they have a patent on the technology — and they’re used to dealing with large businesses with many hundreds of people coming in and out every night, not a 200-person wedding. So, the minimum order was 1500 matchbooks. I did it anyway. Because life is too short, and when you want something, you want something, and I don’t regret it. We’ll have matchbooks forever! Heck, it was my wedding.

TLDR: Weddings are great and your own wedding is always going to be the best, and the regrets are never worth the sweat.

xx

Tell me a little about what you do?

I light fires for a living. Ha! But really, that is one of my jobs. I am the founder/owner/operator of Big Towel Spa, a sauna and community spa project in the Hudson Valley. I do everything from actually stoking the fires, to fetching the water, scrubbing the floors, to also managing our website, marketing, our new substack, The Hot Room, our zine, etc! I guess you could say, as of right now, “I wear many hats.” But of course, nothing could happen without my amazing staff, who also help shepherd the space alongside me.

What does your typical day look like?

I have to have coffee immediately. I recently was given a MoccaMaster, which has kind of changed my life because it’s so fast. So I really can have coffee very quickly. I must have half n half. I am a milk person, and I honestly get annoyed with people who aren’t. It just doesn’t make sense to me that you would drink black coffee.

I am known for packing a lot into a day, so I go to CrossFit at 6:30am 3x a week lately. I’m with all the old people, it’s amazing. Then I text/call anyone whoever I know is up before 9. Usually have meetings or computer work. I like to co-work with friends at their house or go to a cafe. I cook a lot, read, watch movies, or go on walks with friends and our dogs. I usually have plans in the evening up to 6x a week! So yeah, I’m an extreme extrovert.

Tell me about the story behind creating Big Towel.

I’ve always made jokes that I am a peasant…because I have a thick torso and large boobs, but also it is actually true that my family were potato farmers, and I guess I share this because I think in some ways I feel drawn to ancient technologies of community/nourishment, and I definitely felt that way when I started to go to Saunas in NYC in 2014. I was like, Why is this so hard to find? Why is this hidden from us? Simultaneously, as I was visiting more and more bathhouses, I was struck by how they were all gendered, so a lot of my queer friends could not go with me. I wanted to make a space that was BIG enough for everyone and felt like a cross between a bathhouse/YMCA/rec hall. Leisure should not be elite, and you don’t need a lot to feel relaxed. I went from writing a business plan for a 1.2 million dollar building to being like, wait, I can start small and still have an impact. That’s when I started thinking of a smaller, pop-up style in public space.

Where have you recently found inspiration?

I recently finished the book The Wall by Marlen Haushofer. It’s about a woman who gets stuck behind a wall that appears when she is on vacation in the countryside in the Alps at a cottage. She has to survive with just a cow, a dog, and a cat. I loved it.

What’s something that’s brought you joy as of late?

My oldest friend from childhood, whom I have known since I was in pre-school, came to visit. We still talk daily, but just lounging on the sofa with her, my body always feels so relaxed when she’s here, and I always feel more like myself.

What’s your favorite bathing memory/experience?

I think one of the most poignant memories was visiting Olympic Spa in LA in 2016. Mostly because that was the women-only Korean spa my mom went to when we lived in LA during high school. I refused to go with her. At that point, my mom had been dead for 8 years, but being in the space and imagining her being there, imagining us being there together. And of course, she was right, it is still one of my favorite places to bathe in the world.

How do you consider building Big Towel amongst all the various bathing spaces offered these days?

Ya know, I have been thinking about this a lot as I see saunas popping up everywhere, but not small ones, like huge ones in NYC, etc. It’s really fascinating to me that almost all of the larger bathing spaces (Othership, Bathhouse, Sund) are all founded and run by men. Then, alternatively, some of the smaller-scale sauna projects or more community-based ones are all run by women. I think the scale says it all: I am not trying to be a billionaire from my sauna project. I don’t want it to feel anonymous or soulless, and I do think that after a certain scale, you lose that. I do think the public space usage and the scale allow people to feel like they are getting something that they usually don’t get.

What do you say to anyone unfamiliar/scared of a sauna experience like Big Towel?

I would say, that’s ok. I am not here to convince you that a sauna is gonna make everything in your life better or “biohack” your way to longevity. But I would say that if you are looking for more recreational activities during the colder months (although sauna all the time), or want a way to peacefully socialize, then why not go to the sauna and see how it feels? It’s like being at a pool, or a hot tub, it usually feels good and makes you feel different than when you came in.

Rapid Fire…

Hot or cold? Both?

What’s your favorite late-night snack? Tea with a cookie

Morning or night? Morning

What’s your coffee order? Drip Hot with Half n Half always even if it’s 98 degrees.

Favorite way to stay warm? Ummm, sauna of course, but with all my clothes on while I’m working haha!

In the Passenger Seat is a new interview series where I let someone else’s voice drive the letter. I’ll be sharing conversations with fascinating people, some of whom I have had the chance to work with on stories or in research, and others I am simply intrigued by. Have someone who might make an interesting subject? Reply!

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In case you missed it, earlier this week I shared thoughts and an itinerary from my weekend in Dubai. The trip included 24 hours in the desert (just 45 minutes from Dubai), at the Bab Al Shams resort. After staying there, I have many feelings about the place, which is why I hadn’t planned to pitch it for a publication post-trip. BUT, I had reached out to an editor before I went ( I was so sure it would exceed all expectations), and they just let me know they’re interested in a review of the hotel. So, as always, I’ll be keeping it honest for them, and I’ll share that with you soon. In the meantime, here is a more brutally honest review revealing my truest feelings about the place.

Lay of the land: First and foremost, it must be said that Bab Al Shams is objectively a very nice hotel. It is a five-star luxury resort where the rooms hover around $500 a night. It was built a little over 20 years ago, in a sort of Arabian desert style architecture, with sandy earth tone exteriors and very palace-like features, with gate-like structures. It just got a nice aesthetic facelift. It really does feel like you are in the middle of the desert somewhere, except for when you look out and realize you can see power plants of some kind in the Dubai distance.

There are multiple pools, restaurants, a spa, and desert activities. It’s not some boutique hotel in the middle of the desert. It’s a corporate 100+ room resort less than an hour from Dubai. We didn’t totally realize what that would mean when we booked it, and that was likely our first mistake.

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I did almost no research before departure. As I boarded the plane, I texted my friend to ask about the time difference. As the one usually planning the trips, going in with so little preparation felt unnatural. I didn’t have a single dinner reservation at a restaurant whose menu I already memorized or any starred bakeries or shops on my map. Unnatural as it may have felt, it was also refreshing to travel to a place and let someone else be my guide.

It also left me constantly surprised in Dubai. I was surprised that it wasn’t as religiously conservative as I thought it would be, excited by the very hip gallery district and coffee shops we found, and impressed and overly satisfied by all the delicious food.

This way of travel relieved some of the pressure and expectations. With resources like Instagram, guide apps, and articles full of photos and timestamps that I often reference when planning a trip, it can feel like I’ve already taken the journey before I step on the plane. I already know what everything will look like, what the menu will contain, and what to purchase at the store — it takes some fun out of it. In a way, this very unplanned (on my part) trip restored the spark of discoverability that travel is all about.

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All that aside, if you are looking for some recommendations or inspiration, here is how we spent a wonderful whirlwind weekend in Dubai:

Thursday:

• Early morning arrival

• Coffee at the colorful  St. Regis Dubai, where the place settings are Ginori 1735.

• Eat delicious Lebanese food for lunch at Em Sherif

• Sleep (jetlag, ever heard of it?)

• Go to the mall!

  • Patchi Chocolate, where we tried very expensive, precious chocolate under the guise that we may buy some

  • Ajmal, at the recommendation of a chic Upstate friend, to luxuriate in fragrances and oils. We each walked away with a tiny vial of gold-colored musky-rose scent.

• Drinks at Ce La Vie, which was an absolute scene with a view of the Burj Khalifa (the tallest building in the world), all lit up

• Take the metro to Old Dubai for delicious Al Ustad Special Kebab (Iranian food)

Friday:

• Head to The Palms

• Breakfast at Jones the Grocer

• Alserkal Avenue

  • Walk around exploring contemporary art galleries and unknowingly stumble upon this insane, chic, and viral bakery, Bkry. Proceed to walk away with some very delicious spreads and jams (if you come over, I’ll feed you some)

  • Head to bookstore Zerzura, which had an impressive collection of old and rare books and prints

• Coffee & work at Le Nena Coffee

[Then, we were supposed to explore old Dubai with/ Dubai Museum, Coffee Museum, Grand Souk, and the Gold Souk, but we were tight on time and energy, and Dubai is full of traffic, so I guess it’s a reason to go back?]

• Head to Jumeirah for Bar Buci, to try some Shisha and drinks under the shadow of the 7-star hotel where the Russians are probably staying.

• Mansaf wa Kunafa for Manaf and Kunafa. (Pro tip: if you can’t make it to Dubai, I have on good record that al Badawi in NYC has a good Mansaf, and T Mag just said that the Knafeh at Ayat is an essential pastry in the city.)

Saturday:

• Head to the desert for a night at Babs Al Sham

• Babs Al Sham is a hotel just 45 minutes from Dubai. We wanted a desert refuge, and opted for a nice hotel in hopes that I might be able to pitch it / cover it somewhere else. In some ways, it met expectations; in others, it was like a corporate monster.

  Full review coming on Friday for paid subscribers!

  

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Sunday:

• After a leisurely morning at the hotel, head back to Dubai and then, you guessed it, back to the mall.

  • Go to Patchi, buy a little box of chocolates I’ve been slowly eating

  • Try camel milk chocolate at Al-Nassma, which is also a great souvenir

  • Make a 4 p.m. reservation to go to the top of the Burj. It is worth it to make the reservation and skip the lines. It’s not as scary as it seems to go up 148 floors.

    

• For the final dinner, try Emirati Food at Al Fanar (inside another mall…)

• Go to the airport at 12a for 230a flight home and wake up in NYC.

@jake_amazingBallad for UAE #uae

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See you Friday for the hotel review!

As always, thanks for being here. If you want to share this post or any, I would be so so grateful!

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Here are a few of my favorite things that make my long-haul travel a little easier. None of these are novel or even original, but sometimes the simple things make all the difference…

In The Overhead Compartment:

• Away Carry-On Bag: Since the early days of Away, it’s been my tried-and-true. It fits in all the overhead compartments, and it’s surprisingly large. Their lifetime warranty has saved me on more than one occasion. I’ve been tempted by other D2C luggage brands, but none have given me a good enough reason to stray.

• Packing Cubes: There are a billion different types of packing cubes, but I like this set from Amazon because it comes in many different sizes so that I can mix and match within the bag.

• Hanging Toiletry Bag: Growing up, my mom had the most epic toiletry bag from Kate Spade. It opened up flat and had a billion compartments that could fit everything. This is my far inferior version, but I like that you can see everything, and it hangs for easy access.

• Ries: I’m not disappointed by the little bottles everyone on Instagram seems to have. I will say the large ones are a bit big, so I’d recommend leaning heavily on the small size, but I never realized what a difference it makes to have your own shampoo everywhere you go.*1

• Silk Sleeping Bag: I’ve been called a brat for this one, but I’ve never regretted having a little silk sleeping bag liner when I go to Airbnbs that aren’t my first choice. This isn’t the exact one I have, but it would do.

For My Personal Item:

• The Everywhere Tote: I copied Tori Simokov of Window Seat and got the Away tote bag. It’s by no means my favorite from a style perspective, but it’s hella functional, with lots of pockets and keeps its shape. Plus, it slips over the handle of my suitcase so I can drag everything through the airport in one piece.

• Loop Earplugs: I’m completely obsessed with this little accessory that somehow blocks out the scary background hum of airplanes while letting the movie soundtrack through my over-the-earphones.*

• Eye Mask: This one is cheap, but that’s okay because I will inevitably lose it. I like that it’s “silk,” and the compression along the eyes offers some relief, I think.

• Trtl Pillow: You will look stupid with a neck pillow, no matter what… at least this one is good. Also, it comes in a little bag because nothing is more disgusting to me than people’s loose neck pillows dragging along the floor in security.*

• Counterpart Charger: no more tangled cords with this little charger.*

• Document folder: I like to have everything in one place when I travel, separate from my wallet, because I don’t want to lose everything all at once (knock on wood). This little rubber envelope-type pouch is the perfect size for a passport and any loose travel docs.

On My Person:

• Compression Socks: If you know me, then you know I always have a pair of Bomba compression socks on every flight, no matter the length. This is for comfort and peace of mind.

• Leset Pants: I’ve finally found it: the perfect travel pant. They’re 100% cotton, comfortable like PJs, but chic enough to wear during your trip. AND, since they’re slightly cropped and barrelled, they don’t touch the ground when you use the bathroom.

• Peanut m&m’s: this needs no explanation.

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Next week, my guide to Dubai!

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All the restaurants have compelling stories (and insane photo spreads to match), but there are a couple of restaurants that I can’t get out of my mind:

The first is Acropolis, a spot in Portland that’s equal parts strip club and steakhouse. The laws in Portland have set the stage for establishments like this not only to exist but to thrive. The reason is two-fold:

1) Legally, strip clubs are nearly untouchable in PDX. After the 1987 State vs. Henry ruling that the First Amendment protects all-nude stripping, strip clubs do as they want. Portland has the highest number of strip clubs per capita in the US, with over 50 in the city alone (for comparison, most sources say there are around 30 in Las Vegas).1

2) Oregon requires that all establishments that sell liquor must also serve food. This results in a variety of strip clubs that serve some of the best meals in the city, from pulled pork to all-vegan food; there are even food guides for strip clubs.

At Acropolis, there’s a full-on salad bar, and rumor has it the beef used to come from the owner’s farm just south of PDX in Estacada, OR. In the morning, you can get steak and eggs and eat them right on the stage’s ring as bare inner thighs flash your face. What a way to wake up!

On the other end of the spectrum, there’s a big old Texas-style, Jesus-loving, God-fearing, family-centric, bigger-is-better place I’ve become obsessed with. Welcome to Taste of Texas. I’m fascinated by this place because of the family lore. It reads like Succession meets Righteous Gemstones but at a steakhouse (please, no one else is allowed to turn this into a TV show, because that’s part of my plan… shhhhh… hold me to it).

Taste of Texas is a giant steakhouse in Houston that consistently defies the numbers. They’re often in the list of top-grossing restaurants, making over 25 million in a single year and serving over 400,000 meals2. It’s the Epcot of steakhouses, with menus translated into 13 languages and a full-on museum of Texas memorabilia, including the Alamo doors, that children come to visit as a museum-type field trip. You heard that right, in Texas, your history class field trip could be to this steakhouse. They were the first steakhouse in TX to serve Angus steak, and their cuts are MASSIVE.

But I’m less interested in the meat than fascinated by the family behind this institution. Nina and Edd Hendee founded Taste of Texas in 1977. They are native Texans and met while working at Steak and Ale, a Dallas chain. They married young and opened a casual restaurant in 1975. Then, in 1984, it transitioned into more of a steakhouse, beginning to take the shape of what it is today.

Nina and Edd seem like Texas personified. They are “everything’s-fine Christians.” They do a prayer walk every morning. They’re controversial in all the expected ways. Once, Edd said: “In the restaurant business, I was taught a long time ago that there are two things you never talk about: One is religion, one is politics. Well, those are two subjects that are near and dear to our hearts. Religion, of course, our faith, being our first and foremost.”3 He’s gotten into some trouble for some not-so-great comments.

Like all good protagonists, they have a peppered past, and though I’m not one to gossip, it’s public knowledge that Nina got pregnant at 17 and put her son up for adoption. In the last 10 years, he’s come back into their life and the families have embraced him (no surprise). They had another son who died in a freakish ski accident in Stowe, VT., and then, in 2015, Edd crashed his small plane onto the highway after someone had loaded it with the wrong fuel (apparently an accident?). Luckily, no one was hurt, but this is what I’m saying — the family is chaos and Christianity, and I can see the sizzle reel already.

If you’re interested in the wacky characters that make up the fascinating fabric of the American steak house, I suggest getting your hands on this new book. It’s funny, it’s kooky, it’s greasy, and it’s fatty in taste and story. It’ll make you nauseous and hungry all at the same time.

In addition to a collection of wild photos, stories, and interviews with restaurant owners, waiters, and somms, Steak House features over 40 recipes from these US institutions. Should we have a Steak House Party with Parker House Rolls, thin onion rings, t-bones, and espresso martini baked Alaska? Reply and I’ll send you an invite.

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Inside the sauna, the first thing to heat up is usually my ears, followed by the top of my head. So, when I went to Finland this last summer and Matt requested a sauna hat as his souvenir, I thought: what a great idea!

I was shocked when they told me that sauna hats are, in fact, not really a Finnish thing. Although the Finns invented the sauna (never let anyone tell you it was the Swedes), they’re more likely to wear a towel or wrap over their heads versus the (increasingly popular) sauna hat. In fact, one of the women hosting us during our time in Lappeenranta, the tiny country town just a few dozen miles from the Russian border, told us she’ll often wash her hair and put in leave-in conditioner and wrap it up in a towel before sitting in the sauna, to let the steam and heat really penetrate the product. The hats more likely originated from Russian banya culture, but the global expansion of bathing culture and the amalgamation of all sorts of bathing traditions (especially in the US spaces) means that these sauna hats have become more commonplace regardless of where you’re sweating.

That’s why, despite not necessarily being the “traditional” practices, I was able to find a couple of perfect sauna hats in a little shop of Finnish handmade goods attached to a tiny cafe. They’re not like the felt ones that you might’ve seen around (those are the traditional Russian varieties, and I think they hold a little too much heat to my head and start to feel a little soggy), but rather, made of woven linen loops, plus it’s striped and cute.

Yes, I look like an absolute dufus with this hat on my head, and yes, it actually makes a difference. It protects my ears from the harsh steam; it extends the time I can stay in the sauna by regulating my internal temperature, or so it seems; and it’s even been a conversation starter when others ask about the accessory and seemingly stare with envy. Sometimes, I also feel smug, knowing I’m dedicated enough to own such “insider” accessories as this.

Even since I wrote about saunas less than a year ago, I’ve witnessed an explosion of public saunas that already have or plan to open in NYC and beyond. T Magazine featured a short piece this week about the rise of public floating saunas, which included Kos, a new one opening in Saratoga, and the first public floating sauna in New York. Months ago, I spoke to one of the many folks behind the soon-to-be-opened Sund, an outdoor bathhouse inspired by Icelandic baths, which has plans to do a pop-up in Domino Park (more on that soon). There’s the very chic Lore that everyone seems to be getting exquisite PR boxes from (they had custom classique sauna hats at a recent weekend upstate). Overall, they’re a great lesson in branding.

Anyways, what I’m trying to say is if you plan to frequent any of these saunas and want to impress your fellow sweaters, maybe you should get yourself a stupidly great hat like this.

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Some extra delights as of late:

Happy Organic petit fruit candles have a chokehold on me. If you’re invited to my next birthday, expect a whole fruit salad on my cake.

These pearl napkin rings give me “I can make these myself” syndrome, but check back in 6 months to see.

One of my guilty pleasures is peeking inside other people’s fridges. (That’s why I love Katie Stone’s series Into the Fridge.) I just ordered a bunch of Weck jars, and they make storing produce a deeply satisfying experience.

This is a fun read for anyone who loves printed matter.

Wms & Co is my grown-up version of back-to-school shopping. I’m pleased with this weekly planner I got (and it’s on sale!).

A couple of weekends ago, we saw the Icelandic band Múm, and I haven’t stopped thinking about the lead singer who wore high heels and played the cello with soft, vocal sounds — it was a real trip.

Thanks for reading. Let me know if you want to go check out one of these new saunas soon or come to the floating sauna with me! See you again next week.

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General Stores emerged in America in the 1700s, popping up along trading routes and serving American farmers and rural communities. It provided what people in the town needed, often stocking merchandise from local farmers and makers. It was, as it sounds, a generalized store which acted as a sort of equalizer; everyone across age and economic class would need to come for one thing or another, mainly because at the time the majority of these stores also served as the post office. It was a true conduit between the community and the outside world. Lots had porches and woodstoves, places for people to gather and chat about the town's goings on.

By the 1950s, general stores had died out. People moved to cities, and big chain/box stores provided cheaper goods and food for faraway places.

But over the last few years, I’ve noticed a resurrection of the general store in a new form across America, an uptick of these historic stores in concept but with a contemporary angle through practice. I first saw this at Russell’s General, the one-room store in Bovina, NY run by the couple behind Brushland Eating House (a hotspot for Brooklyn-ites on a weekend in the mountains). They served hot breakfast sandwiches and sold packaged goods like Heinz ketchup in the glass bottle and Bazzini’s nuts in their retro waxed bags, leaning into the old-school vibes. We were staying above their restaurant down the street when we went in there for breakfast. One long table ran down the shop, and as we ate our little sandwiches, we conversed with a charming salt-and-pepper-haired man, probably in his late-60s. He corrected my pronunciation of Bovina (bOH-vEYEna, not bOHv-EEna, like bovine, the cow), and invited us to his house later that afternoon. We tried to stop by, but he wasn’t home. Still, that whole “community gathering” thing is real!

Others have caught my eye recently, like Dukes General inside an autowash in Nashville, cxe General in NY, Brooklin General Store in Maine, and Hamden General, also in Upstate NY. Saganopack General Store was the hottest opening in the Hamptons this summer.

The products offered at these spots are like they were 150 years ago… but now the penny candy is imported and Swedish, the olive oil is Graza, and the merch is plentiful. Still, the concept is as it’s always been: a one-stop shop for essentials, but above all, a place for gathering. Many of these new general stores also host chef pop-ups, making space for food far beyond the small town palate’s expectations.

There’s something romantic about the idea of a General Store, just as there is about living in a small town. The feeling of returning to a “simpler” time, one where you know your neighbor and you have time to linger over a morning drip. For the last few years, we’ve seen an increase in younger folks moving from the city to more rural communities because of the flexibility provided by remote work and the increased cost of living in places like NYC. We’re late-phase adopters of this in Hudson.

The way I see it, these emerging General Stores are a good indicator of the “new American small town.” There may be growing interest in life outside the city, but not outside the city’s luxuries.

Over beef stew on the first chilly day of September, I sat down with Caroline Jaquiss, the owner of Old Chatham Country Store, a part-general-store-part-restaurant in Old Chatham, NY. Jaquiss took over the space in early 2023. It’s a café-style general store that offers full-service dinner on the weekends. The restaurant was recently renovated with the help of Studio Becky Carter. They sell sandwiches, coffee, ceramics from nearby makers, pantry staples, and frozen goods. The dining room is oriented around a large wood-burning stove — it really is quite charming. They also partner with incredible chefs around the area to showcase a variety of cuisines and concepts. Just read on and you’ll hear more…

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Please note: this interview has been edited and condensed for clarity and space.

SF: So tell me a little about this place.

CJ: This store has been around, well, they don’t even know the exact date, some local historians have dated it around 1760. It’s operated as a general store since then. There’s actually an old safe in the basement, which is hundreds of years old. It’s so heavy you can’t open it, it doesn’t work, but it’s really cool.

SF: That’s a great artifact.

CJ: Yeah, it’s super fun. Even the walk-in is like a wooden walk-in that’s been around for a long time. Anyway, I grew up primarily in Northern Michigan, and my grandparents had a small cafe and restaurant. So I grew up in that world — summers, when you’re 10 meant wiping tables. I always really liked that. I always just really liked how these small spaces became kind of community epicenters. That was kind of what my grandparents’ restaurants were like. It was very much where the locals hung out. You knew everybody. I really liked that. I was always drawn to the food businesses.

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