Hello lovely readers! The month of November was…a lot, and with the ramp up to December holidays and end of year crush, the busyness and chaos of life show no signs of slowing. That’s what makes this latest word choice so meaningful to me; it’s like a persistent reminder to find my footing and do things for myself that make me feel rooted to the moment. I wish moments of grounding for each of you today and everyday. Thank you for being here!
GROUNDED: Mentally and emotionally stable: admirably sensible, realistic, and unpretentious. (Source: Merriam-Webster)
I’ve been returning to the words grounding and grounded a lot lately. In the days leading up to the U.S. presidential election and in the aftermath of it. The days awaiting the scan results from my dad’s latest MRI, which miraculously showed that he is in complete remission from brain cancer. You could insert any number of other personal and political and global events here. Daily life as a human being requires us to navigate an ever-changing landscape, one that often feels as if it is shifting beneath our feet. How then, can we find a sense of stability among the chaos?
A few things have offered me a sense of grounding, including more literally, like going for a walk or a hike and feeling the damp earth beneath my feet, the jagged edge of a rock poking my shoe or the gnarled root of a tree stubbing my toes. Moving my body through the outdoors and feeling gratitude for mobility and fresh air helps me feel more at home in my body and in this world.
I also have a new appreciation for the power of words. I am delighted to have discovered the work of poet James Crews, especially his poem The Only Prayer, shared by Anna Sproul-Latimer in her excellent newsletter How to Glow in the Dark. His words brought me into the moment, anchoring me in place so as to feel the weight of each word, clutching my heart and gasping at times when a particular string of words landed with a heady combination of force and beauty and resonance.
I feel a renewed sense of purpose to my own relationship with words. The day after the election, I sat down in a booth at A1 Afghan Restaurant and Grocery to interview the owner, an Afghan immigrant named Hussain. He served me a fragrant black tea, poured from a lovely glass teapot, and his wife brought us a platter of Afghan cookies and sweets, like jalebi, coils of syrupy-sweet fried dough and awb e dundawn, pistachio cookies with a crumbly texture that dissolved in my mouth like a magic trick. I became emotional at one point during the interview, listening to his story and what brought him to the U.S., how he still believes that America is a land of opportunity and a place where he can raise his family and dream of even better things for his children. It renewed my faith in the power of telling stories and amplifying voices.
Food has always offered me a sense of grounding. As a kid who lived in six countries before the age of 15, food has been a way to understand the world around me and to connect with others, and a way to satiate my physical hunger and nourish my tender heart. No matter where I lived in the world or places I visited, I found a sense of peace at the table (or food stall or street cart or picnic blanket). It is a privilege and blessing that I do not take for granted. Preparing simple meals at home have offered a sense of grounding lately too: a Thai red curry inspired chicken and rice soup that fed and warmed us for days. A chicken-avocado salad enjoyed on the porch with my mom, the early November sun streaming through the last leaves clinging to branches. A perfectly jammy, golden yolk speckled with black pepper and flake sea salt on toast. Obliging Ava’s request to make chocolate chip muffins and seeing her eyes sparkle as the muffins emerged puffed up and golden, their domes crested with a rogue mohawk of chocolate chips.
This notion of being fed and taken care of is perhaps why I am so drawn to the experience of eating in restaurants. One of my earliest restaurant memories is with my dad at our neighborhood bistro in Paris, Café Mozart, which Dad adored especially because of the surly yet charming waiters. We each ordered a croque monsieur, the melted cheese sinking into slices of ham as I bit into the sandwich, the toasty bread buttering my fingertips with each bite. Dad let me have the window seat so I could twist around to peek through the bunched-up white lace curtains and wave to passersby. Each outing together to check out a café or restaurant or try something new to eat was our special time together. It laid the foundation for our relationship and sustained me until our next dining adventure when he’d return from his work travels to service oil rigs off-shore or work late at his office in La Défense.
I love taking Ava to restaurants too, and together with my mom we recently checked out Noodle Factory in our neck of Roanoke. A heaping mound of springy ramen for Ava, beef pho for my mom, and creamy tonkotsu ramen for me, plus fried chicken bao to share with Ava. I can think of perhaps no better remedy to swirling emotions and turbulence than a bowl of brothy noodles, leaning into the fragrant steam and slurping till our hearts’ and bellies’ content.
Memoir Updates
Between writing holiday gift guides and welcoming a new puppy (meet Luna!) into our lives, I’ve been left with sparse time for working on my memoir. I’m grateful for my writing group, whose consistent touchpoint and constant cheerleading helps keep my manuscript simmering on my mental stove, even if it is on the back burner.
Published Articles & Media Appearances
Where We’re Shopping on Small Business Saturday This Year
For Food Network, I updated my guide to independent food, drink, home, and kitchen brands to support this holiday season and beyond. There are so many incredible businesses who are grounded in their own purpose and passion, from intentionally sourced teas from India to small-batch salts harvested from a family farm on a tiny island in South Korea.
For delightful and delicious gifts from local artisans and small-batch food businesses, check out my annual holiday foodie gift guide for The Roanoker. You’ll find out which local brewery has a can’t-miss bottle club subscription, beautiful homewares, and the foodie collaborations that you’ll want to shop to treat yourself.
Books, Bites & Beverages
Books:
I’ve got two new recommendations on the fiction front, including The Life Impossible by Matt Haig (who also wrote The Midnight Library), which blends natural beauty, intrigue, mysticism, and life lessons into a deftly woven tale in which a retired English math teacher unexpectedly inherits a house on Ibiza. The other is Olga Dies Dreaming by Xochitl Gonzalez, which was recommended to me by a favorite librarian who shares the author’s Puerto Rican heritage. It represents one of my favorite types of novels: a compelling story line, beautiful writing, and an exploration of cultural identity. On my book wish list are Ina Garten’s long-awaited memoir Be Ready When the Luck Happens and James Crews’ latest, Unlocking the Heart: Writing for Mindfulness, Courage, and Self-Compassion.
Bites:
Last week my friend Becky (of Biscuits and Bubbly) invited me to attend a cookbook event to celebrate the release of Turkuaz Kitchen: Traditional and Modern Dough Recipes for Sweet and Savory Bakes. I’m a big fan of author, recipe creator, and food photographer Betül Tunç and adore the soothing, gorgeous cooking videos she posts on Turkuaz Kitchen’s Instagram. It was such a treat to toast Betül and to sample some of her cookbook recipes recreated by the talented team at Roanoke restaurant bloom, including simit (twisted Turkish bread sprinkled with sesame seeds) with whipped chevre, tender feta handpies, zucchini biscuits with smoked trout salad, and my favorite of the desserts, this craquelin cream puff with berries and a plush cardamom pastry cream filling.
Beverages:
At the Turkuaz Kitchen event, I sipped the signature cocktail called Sunset in Istanbul, in which the earthy sweetness of apricot was offset by lemon, which paired wonderfully with the citrusy notes of London dry gin. It glowed in the glass and on my palate, making for a sipping experience I truly savored with good company and food.
This issue made my heart swell. Thanks Layla!
This was so NOURISHING Layla! Grateful to see Becky with you ❤️ xo Carla