on may 2025.
a month of migraines, memories, and making things that matter (a LOT of lasagna).
This month dragged.
Maybe it was the news — relentless, punishing, loud.
Maybe it was the migraine that set up camp in my skull for fifteen straight days.1
Hard to say.
We went to Philly for my nephew’s naming ceremony. It was sweet. Warm.
A good reminder that life barrels forward, even when your own feels stuck in neutral.
Since Jacob was born, I’ve been thinking a lot about the world he’ll inherit.
He’ll grow up — of a generation — in a time when AI is table stakes. Where the unbelievable becomes the everyday.
But what about the smaller stuff?
What will his music sound like?
What will he wear?
What kind of buildings will he walk into?
And of course, what will he eat — and what will he crave?
What will feel like home?
I don’t have the answers. But I hope, when he finds them, they come with good music, better food, and a seat at the table that’s always waiting for him.
where i’ve been eating.
Like April, this month skewed homebound.
Lots of meals at home — mostly for testing, sometimes for comfort, always shared with people I love. No complaints there.
But it did mean fewer culinary adventures out in the wild.
Fewer reservations, fewer revelations.
C’est la vie. The stove was on, the table was full. That counts for something.
Middle Child (Tied for Favorite) — While we were in Philly, we ordered from Middle Child. A lot. Like… a lot a lot. Pretty sure it wins this month by sheer DoorDash volume alone. In my defense, the menu is stacked: The Shopsin. The Court Street’s corned beef. The breakfast burrito that could cure most ailments. I could go on — and did, meal after meal. If you find yourself in Philadelphia, go. Or order. Just know there’ll be a wait. (And it’ll be worth it.)
Wake & Late (Tied for Favorite) — Currently holding the crown for best breakfast burrito in LA. After much deliberation (and many, many burritos), I’m calling it: Wake & Late takes the top spot — dethroning my longtime favorite, Cofax. I know others swear by Sobuneh or Dialog — and fair enough. But Wake & Late is consistent, satisfying, and crucially, won’t knock you into a mid-morning food coma. Bonus points: the bagels are also excellent.
Ggiata — I love Ggiata. I fully subscribe to the belief that everyone needs a go-to neighborhood deli — and a go-to neighborhood deli order (a la Bourdain and his mortadella sandwich). Mine just happens to be better than yours. Sorry not sorry. Pretty much everything on their (relatively simple) menu is dialed in — from classic deli staples to inventive, mouthwatering specials. There’s a reason this place is a Postmates staple. This month? They dropped their take on a pastrami Reuben, with sauerkraut and cherry pepper relish.
And I gotta tell ya: it’s sooooo good.
Stereoscope — We stumbled into Stereoscope on a random Tuesday afternoon — and what a gem. Stylish, vibe-y, and effortlessly cool. Great coffee (a non-negotiable in my book) and plenty of seating. Check, check, and check.
How’s It Going to End? — A coffee shop in a mid-century modern laundromat? Yes, please. “How’s It Going to End?” had been on my list ever since it went viral on Instagram (mock me if you must). And honestly? Worth the hype. We made the trek out to Glendale — for the espresso, for the view, for the vibe. Zero regrets.
what i’ve been making.
I spent a lot of time in the kitchen this month. More than usual.
And yet — I’m still terrible at documenting it.
Which is ironic, considering that’s the whole premise of “mise en place”.
What I’m making. How I’m making it. Why I’m bothering to make it from scratch when takeout is faster, easier, and just a few taps away.
But that’s the thing about cooking: it’s rarely about the plate. It’s about the process. The ritual. The quiet war against entropy.
And sometimes — just sometimes — it’s about chasing a flavor you only half remember from childhood. (Which, let’s be honest, is probably the real premise of “mise en place”.)
So here’s to doing better next month.
To writing things down. (Especially my mom’s infamous butter chicken…)
To snapping the photo before I take the bite.
To remembering why I started all this in the first place.
In the meantime, here’s some highlights of dishes that came out of the kitchen this month:
L’Entrecote Sauce — Every time I make this sauce, I get asked for the recipe. And I can’t take full credit — it’s a riff on the sauce served with steak frites at L’Entrecôte in Paris, filtered through the brilliant minds at Fallow, and then bastardized (lovingly) by yours truly. I promise I’ll write up my take soon.2 But for now, just know this: it’s ridiculous.
Part au poivre, part Caesar, all rich, umami-soaked decadence. The kind of sauce that makes everything on the plate taste better — meat, veg, bread, a spoon. Unf.
Rolo’s Lasagna — This month, my mother-in-law and I tackled a take on Rolo’s famed two-sheet lasagna. Spinach pasta, beef bolognese, béchamel — all from scratch. And not just a little of each. We made a lot. It was fun. It was a labor of love. And it yielded enough lasagna to feed a small village. Can you ever have too much lasagna? Possibly.
Mussels — Another recipe I’ve been workshopping. I didn’t grow up eating mussels. Or much seafood, really. Fresh catch wasn’t exactly abundant in Dallas, and my mom wasn’t what you’d call a seafood enthusiast. That all changed when I met my wife. Sushi. Smoked salmon. Mussels — one of her favorites, now one of mine. For years, I didn’t dare make them at home. They felt too fussy, too high-stakes. But somewhere along the way, curiosity won out. First I followed a recipe. Then I stopped. Now I chase flavor. The latest version? Spanish-style mussels: Chorizo. Anchovy. Calabrian chili. White wine. A little heat, a lot of depth, and sauce so good you’ll regret not buying bread. I’m close to calling this one done. (And if your mouth isn’t watering yet, check your pulse.)
I also cooked a lot of fish (see above) and made a lot of salads this month. Great meals, but not highlight-reel worthy.
grab bag, potpourri.
Ok, a few other favorites from May:
There’s always music playing in my kitchen. Always.
It’s as essential as salt, heat, and a sharp knife.
This month? Blame the Hermanos Gutiérrez feature. Or all the Spanish flavors flying around the stove. But Natalia Lafourcade’s “Luna Creciente” took over.
It’s moody. Smoky. The kind of track that makes a pan sauce feel cinematic.
It played on loop while I stirred mussels into submission and wiped chorizo oil off the counter. And somehow, it never got old.
Also in heavy rotation this month:
My Leica M11-P — As part of this “mise en place” journey, I’ve been making an effort to shoot — and actually share — more of my photos with you all. It’s been… lovely. The Leica M11-P with a Summilux-M 35mm f/1.4 ASPH is my daily driver. It’s not the fastest. It’s not the easiest. But damn, it sees the world the way I want to remember it. The clicks are slower. The framing’s more deliberate. But that’s the point. Like cooking, it makes you pay attention.
The Russ & Daughters LOX Hoodie — This will shock absolutely no one: I’m extremely picky about fit. So when Russ & Daughters (one of my favorite NYC institutions, no less) dropped a collab with Jake Gyllenhaal during peak COVID — a monochromatic hoodie that somehow manages to be oversized and perfectly tailored — I didn’t hesitate. I bought two. One to wear into the ground. One in cryogenic reserve. It’s my go-to for workouts, dog walks, long edits, existential spirals. It’s soft. It’s weirdly elegant. It says: I care about hot-smoke-cold-smoke, and also fashion. What more could you want?
My Chef’s Knives — I’ve got two go-tos. Both workhorses. Both beloved. First, a 6.5” carbon steel santoku from Masamoto — hand-forged in Tokyo by artisans who’ve been at it for generations. It’s light, razor-sharp, and demands respect. Leave it wet and it’ll rust. Use it right and it’ll slice through anything like it owes you money. Then there’s my 7” forged steel chef’s knife by Global — stainless, balanced, and sleek in that unmistakable Global way. It feels like something from the future. I’ve had it for years, and it’s still the knife I reach for when I want to move fast and clean. I’ll probably do a full gear write-up soon — knives, pans, the unsung heroes in the drawer. But for now, just know: these two get the job done. And they do it beautifully.
Truly Lemon — Dehydrated lemon. In a packet. Add it to water, Diet Coke, a cocktail — whatever needs a hit of citrus and a little personality. No slicing, no juicing, no cleanup. It’s bright. It’s efficient. It’s honestly kind of brilliant. Refreshing, in every sense.
en place.
Two months in, I’m starting to get the hang of this ritual. Maybe by next month, it’ll feel like second nature.
I cook, I write, I reflect. Sometimes in that order. Sometimes not.
There are still dishes I forget to photograph. Moments I forget to write down. But that’s okay.
This — the sitting down, the sifting through, the sharing — is the point.
So thank you for being here. For reading. For asking about the sauce. For reminding me why I started.
June’s already shaping up to be a good one. More recipes. More gear. More good food, cooked slowly, and savored fully.
See you then.
If only I’d written about pain recently…
In the meantime, if you’re looking for a more immediate fix, check out Fallow’s YouTube video or one of the many recipes floating around on the internet.