Bittersweet

Today I'm cooking with mixed emotions.

My friend Kathleen died on Monday. I found out this morning (alongside almost everyone) she had been battling pancreatic cancer for 2.5 years. She was Nashville’s only cheesemonger in my early days of food writing, truly a force of nature in laying the groundwork for what our restaurant scene looks like today and an incredible source of education for people like me who wanted to learn about all things dairy. Her passing has been a shock to say the least. And so it is with a heavy heart that I tell you about tonight’s unusually joyous meal:

I am, for the first time in 2025, hosting a dinner party. Not just any dinner party, but one for my best friend of 30 years and her family, WHICH IS EXISTS BECAUSE OF ME. No really, I introduced her to her husband and as the joke goes, cast a spell to bring about the birth of their first born son— who came into this world exactly five years after my words were spoken. An enormous amount of boysenberries from our yard and strawberries from Jessie’s are currently in the oven with sugar and flour under a buttery oat topping spiked with chai masala. Honestly? That’s the main event, warm with vanilla ice cream obviously. The rest of dinner is just a prelude.

There will be bowls of white rice to go with heavily seasoned refried santa maria pinquito beans, shaved red cabbage tossed in a tamarind, brown sugar and lime vinaigrette, FAT slices of heirloom tomatoes, and toppings like Greek yogurt, shredded cheese, Cholula, cilantro, etc. I think we will drink beer and I will pour one out for Kathleen, may she rest easy.