T CO F O O D
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L I F E S T Y L E
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T R A V E L
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THE SACRED ART OF
STORYTELLING THE POWER OF JOY
A SUMMER OF PROTEST
Que Sera, Sera
NEW ORLEANS SUMMER
ISSUE | JULY 2022
T+CO ISSUE 11 SUMMER 2022 COVER IMAGE PAULETTE WOOTEN EDITORIAL PAULETTE WOOTEN EDITOR KIM HILL EXECUTIVE EDITOR CONTRIBUTORS AMY CLIFFORD, KIM HILL, PENNY HUNTER, EMILY SUTHERLAND, AND PAULETTE WOOTEN MARKETING + ADVERTISING THETREEHOUSEANDCO@GMAIL.COM SUBSCRIPTIONS VISIT WWW.TCOMAGAZINE.COM WRITE TO: 100 CLUB DR, SUITE 210, BURNSVILLE, NC 28714
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www.tcomagazine.com thetreehouseandco@gmail.com Published Quarterly by the treehouse + Co All Rights Reserved. A FOOD + LIFESTYLE + TRAVEL ONLINE MAGAZINE
SUMMER
ISSUE | JULY 2022
EDITORIAL PAULETTE WOOTEN, EDITOR-IN-CHIEF
W
hen it comes to travel, my leading tour guide is "Que Sera, Sera." Not a passive attitude but rather a relinquishment of control and certainty about how things will turn out. Simply put, be present and enjoy the present moment. So, when our close friend called to ask us to sing at her father's funeral, we quickly decided to drive instead of fly from North Carolina to Texas. Opting to drive instead of flying gave us the freedom to see family and friends and experience something new. We haven't been on the road much since March 2020, so we found it an exhilarating excursion. The first spontaneous stop was outside Memphis to meet Ms. Helen of Ms. Helen's BBQ. We highlighted her in last year's Grill Issue (view here), and I promised myself that one day I would meet her and try her legendary barbecue. (p.8) We spent a week in Texas visiting relatives, a great friend, and some work for one of our design clients. The next spur-of-the-moment stop was in New Orleans. We share our Magazine Street experience staying at the Eliza Jane Hotel (p.66) enjoying local cuisine and art, roaming the streets and admiring the architecture, and finding the best Sazerac, the state drink of Louisiana. We wished we could have stayed longer, but we had plans to visit family in Mississippi before returning home.
Ms. Helen, Famous Female Pitmaster
Grill Issue, June 2021
Best Sazerac, Pêche
SUMMER
ISSUE | JULY 2022
Mũthoni Kiarie, Our New Friend
While "Que Sera, Sera" works great for the flow of travel. I believe it can work for both major and small issues in our lives, it is critical to remain active and interested in causes that will benefit all humans and the planet, realizing our choices have a ripple effect on the world beyond our own neck of the woods. Penny Hunter, shares insight into how to recapture some of the joy that has been robbed from us by the unrelenting stress, chaos, and pain of the past two years in A Summer of Protest (p.41). Emily Sutherland, encourages you to engage with your story… learn from it… grow through it… grieve it… and even laugh about it in The Sacred Art of Storytelling (p.46). Recipes are sprinkled throughout the issue. Kim shares being a sous chef at her nephew's wedding reception, where she made salads for 6 hours (p.18). Some of our contributors sent us their favorite summer dishes, which we tested, tried, and liked. In A Taste of Summer (p.53), Amy Clifford writes about some of the traditional foods that her family makes. One of my favorite pieces in this issue is Pêche (p.75) which is about a chance meeting with a stranger on our first night in New Orleans. Check out our friend, Mũthoni Kiarie, no longer a stranger in Top It Off (p.104)
Que Sera, Sera May your summer be filled with the spirit of Que Sera, Sera sweetness.
Pêche
Contributors
PENNY HUNTER Penny Hunter loves to help connect business, entertainment, and non-profit leaders to find like-minded partners. Invigorated by helping build brands and launch products in competitive environments. Her eyes are always open to helping make a change when she sees injustice. She lives in beautiful Colorado with her husband. They have raised two amazing men who have made their lives richer. Have two wonderful daughters-in-law and grandchild. Their home is part zoo, part foodie haven (join them for one of their open house curry nights!)
Mũthoni Kiarie Raised in Nairobi where she originally discovered her penchant for spinning dark tales about life around her. She has since been published in The Porter House Review, Narrative Magazine, Dismantle An Anthology, The Weeklings, Generations Literature Magazine, among others. Mũthoni is a Mills College MFA graduate and an alumna of the Voices of Our Nations Arts Foundation and the Las Dos Brujas Writers’ Workshops. She lives and loves her adopted home in Oakland, CA while constantly pining for her original home, Kenya.
AMY CLIFFORD While her southern roots run deep, Amy Clifford currently calls Denver, Colorado home. Two of her favorite things are tracking down the best local coffee spots in any city and enjoying a long, lingering meal around her table with friends.
EMILY SUTHERLAND A career writer, storyteller, and creator of a self-paced story writing masterclass launching on June 17, 2022.
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MEETING MS. HELEN Legendary
BBQ
Female Pitmaster by Paulette Wooten
It's a rare opportunity to meet a true female pitmaster. So in March, from Nashville to Little Rock, we hopped off I-40, took a short detour, and headed to Brownsville, TN, hoping to meet Ms. Helen and sample some of her famous openpit barbecue sandwiches. She and her world-renowned BBQ is everything you'd expect. A true rockstar vibe. Waking up early and taking care of red hot BBQ business. She's pleasant, down-to-earth, and a bit reserved. Her demeanor is so ambiguous that I can't tell whether she's bashful or just intent on returning to work. Over the last 25 years, she's been running a worldrenowned business independently. She provides the most incredible nourishment for the spirit and body to everyone who comes to her. Treating all customers as though they were part of the family. She's the real deal.
If you were to drive through Brownsville's downtown area without being aware of Helen's BBQ's legacy, you might overlook the modest establishment. There's nothing showy or sparkly about the place, just one of the country's most well-known smoking female pitmasters.
We arrive eager to check if Ms. Helen is around. At the counter outside, someone is placing an order. The 6-foot Covid rule is still in effect, so we wait. We glance at the short menu of oak and hickory smokehouse meats and quickly realize that Kim cannot eat anything. Pork makes her sick, and she is a never-Bologna believer. Chicken must be ordered one to two days in advance. I placed my order for a giant pulled pork sandwich and saw Ms. Helen preparing food in the back. I can't wait to meet her. The CASH ONLY checkout man knows we're not local and asks where we are from; when we start telling him, Ms. Helen comes over to introduce herself. I request a photo. She graciously accepts the proposal. Indeed a legit bucket list moment for me.
The order is ready. I eat in the car because we have to get back on the road. I rip open my brown paper bag and take my first bite into the famed sandwich. Immediately transported back to my South Georgia roots. The finely chopped cabbage resembles my mother's coleslaw recipe, except she used her sweet pickles. It's a little more vinegar-based than mayo, but it compliments the spicy sauce and smokey meat. The pulled pork is delicious and perfectly cooked. I wished Ms. Helen, and I could have sat down to admire this piece of art together. Next time, perhaps, we can place a chicken order in advance and do a formal interview with the legendary Ms. Helen. I'll definitely be trying the bologna sandwich.
SUMMER SALADS
by kim hill
My nephew, Drew, and his new bride Olivia married in Colorado in May. They returned to celebrate with family and friends at the retreat property my sister Lacey and her husband, Andrew, have managed for over 25 years just outside Memphis in Moscow, Tennessee. My niece, Millie, fresh out of culinary school, is now the chef for the events and weddings they host. Millie enlisted us to help, so Paulette had a boss for the day, and I played sous chef.
ER SALADS IN MEMPHIS
MEMPHIS SOUS CHEF
The only problem was that it was almost 100 degrees the day before (the humidity was 98% even indoors!), and there was a downpour in the forecast. So the night before, we came up with Plan A, B, and C, depending on the weather.
with her cool-as-acucumber chill attitude like the ones you want in your fresh gin + tonic.
Millie gave us our marching orders. Our job was making three different incredible salads created by Tiegard Gerard from Half-Baked Harvest for 125 reception guests. We spent the day in her proper commercial kitchen and witnessed the new chef handle every curve ball imaginable like a pro. Millie defies her age and experience
Everything came together like a dream! There were tables indoors for folks who preferred air conditioning and to be near the dessert station full of various choices, from tiramisu to rosemary lemon shortbread cookies (P.26). Drew's tables looked perfect on the patio alongside open fire grills were full of chicken kabobs and pork tenderloin, fire pits for s'mores, and the most beautiful salad bar we've ever seen. In addition, there was a giant charcuterie section, not just a few boards, but a whole bar full of everything from pickled veggies to wonderful cheeses, delicious salmon, and more.
The rain held off until the very end of the evening, and due to the sudden shift in the weather, it was so unseasonably cool we all felt like we were in Colorado instead of Tennessee. + Making a salad may sound easy, but due to the complexity of the salads and the amount we were making, it took us 6 hours! Hopefully, it won’t take you as long.
Tomato, Peach, and Burrata Salad INGREDIENTS Vinegarette 1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil 1/4 cup balsamic or champagne vinegar 1 tablespoon honey 1/2 shallot, finely chopped 1 clove garlic, grated 1 teaspoon lemon zest 1/4 cup chopped fresh basil 2 tablespoons chopped fresh oregano 1 tablespoon chopped fresh dill 1 tablespoon chopped fresh thyme red pepper flakes kosher salt and black pepper
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RECIPE CREATOR
Tieghan Gerard HALF-BAKED HARVEST
Salad 1 1/2 -2 cups cherry tomatoes, halved if large 2-3 peaches, sliced into wedges 1 cup pitted fresh cherries 8 ounces burrata cheese, at room temperature 1/4 cup toasted pumpkin seeds (or other nut/seed) (or other nut/seed)
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FOR DIRECTIONS:
Sweet Potato Kale Salad with Creamy Honey Mustard Dressing INGREDIENTS
▢ 2 sweet potatoes, cut into match sticks ▢ 1 cans chickpeas, drained and patted dry ▢ 3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil ▢ 2 tablespoons sesame seeds ▢ 1-2 teaspoons chipotle chili powder ▢ 2 teaspoons smoked paprika ▢ 1 teaspoon onion powder ▢ 1 teaspoon cumin ▢ kosher salt and black pepper ▢ 5-6 cups shredded kale ▢ 1 cup mixed herbs: basil, dill, parsley ▢ 2 Persian cucumbers, chopped ▢ 1 avocado, sliced ▢ 3/4 cup crumbled feta cheese FOR DIRECTIONS
RECIPE CREATOR
Tieghan Gerard HALF-BAKED HARVEST
Rosemary-Lemon Shortbread Cookies INGREDIENTS 1 cup butter, softened 3/4 cup confectioners' sugar 2 cups all-purpose flour 4 teaspoons minced fresh rosemary 1/4 teaspoon salt 1/2 cup lemon curd Optional: Additional fresh rosemary and confectioners' sugar
FOR DIRECTIONS:
What's Summer without
ICE CREAM?
am c re i ce te ori fav ur O
Loaf Pan Ice Cream
Choose your favorite flavor(s) of ice cream. Ours is Halo in any flavor. Soften the ice cream till it becomes creamy and smooth. See tips below. Add one layer to the bottom of the pan and top with one or more of your favorite toppings. Repeat until the ice cream is gone or the pan is full. Cover with saran wrap and freeze for at least 6 hours. Tips: Thaw in the refrigerator for 15-20 minutes. Use microwave 15-30 second intervals. Bring to room temperature for 30 mins. Toppings - Anything you want. Sweet, Salty, Savory.
Loaf Pan There is something magical and delicious about a summer dessert that appeals to all ages. This easy loaf pan ice cream treat is charming and fantastic. Both cute and cool for summertime. To make it even more fun, look for an old-fashioned metal refrigerator box pan or an enamelware loaf pan to layer your ice cream and toppings.
Ice Cream
Cream
any combo works
ANY TOPPING WORKS
SUMMER OF PROTEST
R OF JOY
SUMMER OF PR
SUMMER OF PROTEST
SUMMER OF JOY
A Summer of Protest
By Penny Hunter
Remember childhood summer days, playing hard until dark? Running, through the sprinkler in the heat of the day with freshly mown grass sticking to your feet? Skin that smelled of sunshine and minds full of the new games you made up and played with friends? Voices hoarse from laughing while running in the yard and yelling “you’re it!” Dropping into bed with sleep meeting you before you pulled the crisp sheets up over your suntanned legs. Summer. The stuff vibrant memories are made of. Most of us have defining moments from our summers past. It might be the quintessential summer song that you and your friends would sing at the top of your lungs with the car windows rolled down. It might be the summer blockbuster you piled into the theater to watch with a tub of hot popcorn on your lap. It could be a week at summer camp. A summer romance. Taking time to watch the clouds ease across the sky as though they weren’t there the rest of the year.
I wonder what we could unearth in our imaginations if we tapped into the childlike wonder of summer again. What new ideas could be birthed if we made time to play in the carefree way of a child? Might it be possible to recapture some of the joy that has been robbed from us by the unrelenting stress, chaos and pain the past two years? A friend of mine who lived through Apartheid has said that joy is part of a potent protest. I’ve thought a lot about that these last two years. As grief has piled up to my neck, I have wondered how we keep from suffocating from it all. As a justice-lover, an advocate and one who is determined to be an effective ally, I know my actions and my words matter. I know my privilege is inextricably woven into the fabric of my life and that awareness should move me to speak and to act and to sacrifice for others. I wonder if simultaneously finding joy in the midst of the chaos – or while we recover from it – is also a potent protest. Ridiculous, within reach, simple joys, stacking up like the coins you saved for something special.
I wonder if simultaneously finding joy in the midst of the chaos – or while we recover from it – is also a potent protest. Ridiculous, within reach, simple joys, stacking up like the coins you saved for something special.
Joy, Joy, Joy The joy of splitting a twin popsicle with a kid. The joy of hearing someone you love laugh out loud. The joy of a water balloon splashing at your feet. The joy of playing hard, turning the music up louder, dancing in your car at the stop light and buying yourself a little bottle of bubbles at the dollar store. The joy of seeing the deepening lines on your face and knowing they come with a story. A very good story. Your story. The joy of taking a beat and really seeing the person across the counter from you at the coffee shop, the bakery, the doctor’s office and letting them know they matter.
The joy of offering a genuine compliment to someone who needs it and seeing how your words have power.
Friends, life is hard. Summerscorched-earthhard. So, play and find that the joy that flows from it is not frivolous.
May your full presence in the moments of this summer bring wonder. May you embrace joy. And may it be the elusive lifeline you’re looking for in these weary days.
This summer, may this be our protest.
ST SUMMER OF PROTE
Summer of joy F PROT O R E EST M M SU
SUM MER OF JOY
Y SUMMER OF JOOF PROTEST SUMMER
Grilled Everything Salad
OR T U B I R CONT IPE REC D+ E T S E T BY D E V O APPR +Co e s u o reeh T e h T
by Penny Hunter
In Colorado, it is too hot to cook inside so we grill everything! This is one of our favorites. It’s perfect as a salad entrée with warm tortillas.
INGREDIENTS 2 small zucchini and crooked neck squash sliced about 1/8 inch thick, lengthwise. Grill until you have nice grill marks on the flesh. Dice. 4 ears of sweet corn. Fire roast on the grill until at least one side has been blackened. Cut the kernels off the cob. 1 sweet red pepper, grilled to fiery perfection. Dice. Toss and chill all of the above. Then add: 1 diced sweet onion (do not grill – the crunch adds some nice texture) ½ cup fresh chopped cilantro 1 can drained black beans Juice from 1 fresh lime ½ teaspoon of Tajine ½ cup crumbled cojita cheese ½ chopped jalepeno
OD O F Y M M YU F O R E M SUM
UTOR B I R T CON E RECIP + D TESTE D BY OVE R P P o A use + C
Nashville Fruit Tea
reeh The T
o
by Penny Hunter
SOGOOD,Y'ALL!
I used to visit a place called Bread and Company in Nashville just so I could have the fruit tea. It was worth the trip! Brew 1 gallon of the best black tea you can find. Make it extra strong – we like Luzianne and often use the decaf. Also use one bag of peppermint tea as you’re brewing. Cool the tea. Add: ½ can of frozen orange juice ½ can of frozen pineapple juice 1/2 can of frozen lemonade You can add sugar if you really need to. Get it icy cold and garnish with mint.
The Sacred Art of Storytelling BY Emily Sutherland Storytelling is baked into my DNA. My family memories of evening meals, rides in the car, vacations, and even bedtimes were always accompanied by stories: what happened that day, what was happening around us, what had happened in the past, and whatever funny, strange or appalling stories we’d heard and couldn’t keep to ourselves.
We didn’t just tell stories to one another, we acted them out, imitated voices and used each other as props. We spilled our drinks and flipped our forks across the table in reckless abandon, reenacting scenes and communicating every meticulous detail. In our enthusiasm, we often found ourselves interrupting and talking over one another, so we didn’t forget to say what we were burning to share.
We learned to deliver punch lines and choose enough detail to keep one another engaged without getting into the weeds. (Or we tried, anyway. Some of us were more prone to rabbit trailing than others.) Our Dad was the most animated of us all. His voice was 100 times louder than Mom’s, and 50 times louder than my sister’s or mine. He was six foot and six inches tall and weighed 245 pounds, although he would tell you he had lost 25 pounds that year, pausing for effect before adding that it was the same five pounds he had lost and regained five times. He loved making people laugh.
I laugh and cry at the same time recalling the countless family storytelling sessions that were as much a part of our daily life as eating, drinking tea, and brushing our teeth. These memories come with mixed emotions now.
In October of 2018, I woke up to a call from my sister who, still in shock herself, calmly told me that dad had suffered a massive heart attack that morning. Then she paused. I waited, ready to hear something more, such as, “And he’s in surgery,” or “They think he will be okay.” But there was only silence. “Mel, is he gone?!” I eeked out shakily. “He is, Em.” I gasped. We both went quiet. I sat on the edge of the bathtub still in my PJs and stared at the floor. Within what seemed like minutes, our family and a growing group of friends were gathered in the waiting room of the heart hospital. Mom had tried to drive him there in time to save him but he was gone by the time they arrived.
Storytelling as a full contact experience lives on, as does the spirit of those we love and miss so much.
After a brief pause, my sister commented how unusual it was to see him in shorts with no shoes on. He wouldn’t have been happy about it. A third-generation pastor, he always wore suits. He even took Sunday naps in dress pants and a shirt and tie. Mel pointed out that he had the most beautiful feet of any of us, but never went barefoot. I reminded her how lucky she was that inherited his feet because I had inherited our grandmother’s feet, complete with bunions. Each recollection prompted other recollections. My brother-in-law chimed in with a storyline Dad loved to repeat, then my husband added another. Without even trying, stories resuscitated the essence of him that was distinctly missing for the first time in our lives. There, in our rawest moments of shock and grief, the sacred art of storytelling put just enough air back into our lungs to breathe again. Our pastor later mentioned that he’d never experienced anything like it. But to us, stories are survival. They are the proverbial raft we use to stay afloat.
in our rawest moments of shock and grief, the sacred art of storytelling put just enough air back into our lungs to breathe again. On New Year’s Eve of this year, just over three years after losing Dad, Mel and I, along with our husbands, were once again gathered around a bed where Mom was approaching her final hours. We were joined by our kids and family members of choice. And once again, we began to recall stories of her feisty moments, stories of when she was clear-headed and full of life. This time some of her grandchildren were witnesses to the gift of our family story, even contributing some stories of their own, once again bringing a measure of comfort in the middle of our monumental sense of loss.
There is no story on earth just like yours, and no other voice who can tell it as you can.
Mel and I have realized this year, in increasing measure, that our family story is ours to tell now. We are the ones who will not only keep it alive but also build on it and create new stories that our kids will tell someday. My daughter marries the love of her life on June 26. There will be empty seats where my parents would have sat and we would do anything to have them back for even one more day. But I had to smile the other night when I shared a story with her fiancé and used him as a prop. Storytelling as a full-contact experience lives on, as does the spirit of those we love and miss so much.
I guess it’s no small wonder that I write stories for a living. I’m not sure what else I would do with myself having been immersed in storytelling as a way of life since wayyyyy before it was considered on-trend. I have helped women tell their survival stories, and men tell stories of their broken dreams, and every single time someone engages in the brave and vulnerable act of sharing how they’ve overcome the odds, they fan the flame of hope for others who are perhaps wondering how they’ll ever make sense of whatever they’re going through. We live our lives forward, but we understand backward. As an awkward kid with a love for words, I had no idea how my storytelling roots would shape me, my future, or the way my family has survived our darkest moments. I have no choice but to tell the stories that made me who I am – the joy and the pain, trivial and the funny, all work together like the colors in an artist’s palate.
We live our lives forward, but we understand backward. As an awkward kid with a love for words, I had no idea how my storytelling roots would shape me, my future, or the way my family has survived our darkest moments. I have no choice but to tell the stories that made me who I am – the joy and the pain, trivial and the funny, all work together like the colors in an artist’s palate. Not only does a tapestry of colorful stories define my family’s legacy, they define every family’s story… whether or not they’ve been written or told. They define the history of the world and the way future generations navigate the best and worst of times. But most importantly, stories help us remember to mine for diamonds when all we can see is cavernous darkness.
I hope, dear reader, that you might dare to catch just a glimpse of the power available to you when you engage with your story… learn from it… grow through it…grieve it… and even laugh about it. There is no story on earth just like yours, and no other voice who can tell it as you can.
A TASTE OFFamily Recipes SUMMER by Amy Clifford
Fresh Strawberry Pie Strawberry Pie This tastes like summer. I love that this one’s in my mom‘s handwriting and that the author of it is (her) mother. This is probably the desert that makes me think of summer the most. (Although not sure I could enjoy that much sugar in it now.) My mom was not a canner, but froze tons of fruits and vegetables. As a kid I often thought I unfairly spent way more time that I actually did shucking corn, stringing beans, shelling peas and capping strawberries and the like. Strawberries usually ended up being made into freezer jam, or crushed and frozen in cartons. Perhaps part of the draw of the strawberry pie – besides it being beautiful if the berries were placed in the pie shell in an orderly fashion – is that the window of time for fresh strawberry pie is very small.
“The night is a strawberry.”
– Louise Penny
Watermelon sugar high Watermelon sugar high Watermelon sugar high Watermelon sugar high Watermelon sugar – Harry Styles
Watermelon was a thing in and of itself. Perhaps not a weekly ritual for my grandparents but not far off in the summer. It wasn’t uncommon for my grandmother to call our house and say, “we’re going to cut a watermelon about two,” and just hang up the phone. The same message would go out to her neighbors. Come 2 o’clock, people would gather in the side yard at the picnic table, spread with old issues of the Memphis Commercial Appeal, and a watermelon, salt shaker, and gigantic butcher knife would be at the ready. Everyone would eat a piece of watermelon and then be on their way. Sometimes my grandmother would fashion fake teeth out of the rinds for my brothers and I. If I cut a watermelon today, I’m hardpressed to not eat half of it standing over the kitchen sink.
Family Watermelon Watermelon
Recipe Baked Beans
I am sure everybody in the world has their own baked bean recipe but this to me is the gold standard. It was a recipe from my Aunt Betty and anything that she made was always a crowd pleaser. My mom always heralded her as a gourmet cook. There is also a potato dish that always went with the baked beans and burgers on a charcoal grill. We had great next-door neighbors and often shared meals with them. A common summer thing was burgers and corn on the grill, baked beans, and a dish of potatoes that seemed like liquid gold. Turns out the liquid gold was butter and paprika. Potatoes peeled and cubed and doused in butter and paprika and cooked in the oven until done. I wouldn’t be mad about them right now.
"I come from a food family, so you would think that I would be great at making baked beans or something, but I'm not."
– Kristian Bush
Fancy like, oh Fancy like, oh Fancy like, oh – Walker Hayes
It’s not that fancy to me, but this is still my basic chicken salad recipe. I guess the curry powder in the south in the 70s/80s made it fancy?
Fancy Chicken Salad Salad Chicken
Que Sera, Sera NEW
DISCOVERING THE BIG EASY
ORLEANS
It's important to note that this is not a standard travel guide or a comprehensive New Orleans itinerary but rather an account of Kim's and my experience of spontaneously stopping in New Orleans while on a road trip from North Carolina to Texas. In addition, I'd like to share some of our travel preferences with you. When it comes down to it, we're "experiential travelers." We want to try something new, engage with locals in meaningful ways, connect with culture through cuisine, and learn about a city's history through art and architecture. We'd never qualify as harried tourists out to see the city's top ten must-see attractions to check them off their list. So FOMO isn't an issue for us. It was a bittersweet reason for our first road trip. A dear friend's father died, and she asked us to sing at the funeral. Despite the sadness of the occasion, the wide-open road provided a much-needed life-giving experience. We haven't traveled since March of 2020 for obvious reasons. We felt driving, rather than flying, provided us with more opportunities to see family and friends. The trip was quickly set up. The arrangements for the trip were made in an instant. Simply make plans to drive, spend time with people we knew we wanted to see along the way and leave the rest to Que Sera, Sera. At the top of our wish list when traveling, if possible, is to stay in a luxury hotel. Preferably a boutique hotel. As much as I appreciate Airbnb, I can't shake the feeling that a welldesigned hotel room has a certain allure that usually doesn't happen in a house.
ELIZA JANE HOTEL The lobby's doorway is like a mystical gateway to a divine nirvana, and the attention to detail is apparent in every aspect of the foyer, from the doorway to the ceiling. This is a sign that something fantastic is about to happen. I'm immediately wondering who has this keen eye for design. When the floor tile brings you joy, something good is happening. I wouldn't mind spending the night in the hotel lobby. The sofa is like a divine slice of velvet cake. As we make our way to our room, I quickly Google who is responsible for the exposed beams and walls because the features are something of historical presence that only a senior designer would choose. Of course, none other than Stonehill Taylor.
I begin to hum "Heaven, I'm in Heaven" by Fred Astaire. This hotel was a perfect choice. Everything else could be downhill from here, and I'd be happy, but it gets better.
We enter the hotel room, and I'm raptured by the glorious bathroom. The clawfoot tub tucked in the back of the black-white tile shower with gold trimmings. The sway-able curtains from the 12-foot ceiling. I can't wait to soak and observe the folks on the street while sipping a refreshing beverage.
I wasn't aware of the history of the building when we decided to stay, yet you can still feel its presence in the walls and sense its lingering weight. The structure has a beautiful spiritual aura. I checked the history on Google, and it's really unbelievable. Their tagline is "If Walls Could Talk." How utterly ridiculous, right?
From The Eliza Jane website: "Its name honors this legacy, paying homage to Eliza Jane Nicholson, America's first woman publisher of a major metropolitan paper, who led The Daily Picayune in the late 1800s. After inheriting the heavily indebted newspaper following her husband's death in 1876, Nicholson introduced a series of innovations such as society pages and family columns. By the 1890s, her efforts helped the newspaper triple its circulation. Now transformed into a modern boutique hotel, The Eliza Jane embodies Nicholson's fiery spirit and industrious intuitions. It's a New Orleans institution that continues to celebrate creativity, diligence, and passion."
Que Sera, Sera Even after only 30 minutes, this feels like an unforgettable experience. We're off to a strong start, but we're hungry. So we're moving on. Eating is the second most crucial part of travel.
PÊCHE
Great restaurants rank second on our list of necessities for a good travel experience. I am familiar with individuals who belittle highly-priced dining experiences, but that makes me think they've never had one. A satisfying dining experience is vital to your body, soul, and mind. It's partaking of art, history, and culture in each bite. Time to savor the moment! There are times of abundance and times of scarcity for everyone, but when there's an opportunity to visit a James Beard award-winning restaurant or a chef. Take it! I think of chefs as rockstars and am always a sucker for their show.
A satisfying dining experience is essential. While driving into NOLA, I searched for a restaurant and discovered Peche. Yes, both the restaurant and chef won James Beard awards. And it was only a 10-minute walk from my hotel. No cab. No car. Get some fresh air, stroll, and take in the view. No reservations were available, so we were chancing to get in a table. Our travel motto comes in handy during these times. Que Sera, Sera lead the way.
PÊCHE We arrived at a packed house. The host informed us there was no availability, and we could wait at the bar and maybe get a seat in an hour or so. First come, first served. We put our name in and ordered a Sazerac, Louisiana's signature cocktail. We had predetermined to find the best Sazerac on Magazine Street. This is our first shot.
The bar waiting area is an excellent hangout. It's like you're outside but still feel a part of the vibrant ambiance inside. The entrance is antique French doors open wide, with tables and chairs on the sidewalk in front of the establishment. It was a touch humid but enough breeze to keep things manageable.
Kim is no stranger to anyone. She meets you. She greets you. You're friends. It's just the way it works out. That night at Pêche was no different. As we were sipping Sazeracs, I noticed she was looking around, eyeing everyone like a little kitten ready to pounce. Instead, she starts a quick conversation with the lady next to us. She doesn't overstay her welcome or purr too much. She moves back to chat with me, and the wait is not as long as expected. At the bar, in true Que Sera, Sera spirit, we sit next to the intriguing stranger. Kim is seated between me, and our bar mate, Muthoni, whom we both have commented oozes calm, cool, and collected. You know those people you pass and are immediately drawn to because of their unique dress and positive energy? Muthoni was one of those people.
Que Sera, Sera
The bar is noisy, and we start chit-chatting about each other's drinks and what we've ordered for dinner, which eventually leads to where we're from and why we're all in New Orleans. We quickly discovered that Muthoni is from Kenya and her parents still live in Karen outside Nairobi. Ironically, the only town in Nairobi Kim stayed in years ago while singing at a citywide women's conference. We share our experiences in South Africa and more. So this is the beginning of what we now say was our favorite part of our time in New Orleans.
Que Sera, Se
We chatted about various topics from family to food and quickly found more shared experiences than we could discuss in one night. Our conversation deepens as the evening continues until finally, we are passing around our side dishes like we are at a family get-together. By the end of the meal, we were sharing our side plates of glazed turnips with citrus and dill, brussel sprouts with chili vinegar, and some decadent brabant potatoes with each other like old friends. It was one of those evenings that you want to soak up every drop and savor.
I snapped a picture of her while she snapped a photo of her exquisite Drum main dish. If I'm reading the room right, I feel she might try her hand at recreating this dish when she's back home in Oakland. Our conversation had shown me she's very knowledgeable about wines and fish.
I failed to tell you more about the restaurant and chef since I was so enthused about our new friend. Pêche, French for "fishing," is a natural fit for Chef Ryan Prewitt, who sources his seafood from local farmers and fishermen who practice sustainable harvesting. He was awarded a James Beard Foundation Award for Best Chef: South in 2014, and the same year Pêche won a James Beard award for Best New Restaurant in America. In addition, they are both consistently named among New Orleans' Best. As we left the restaurant together to walk back to our hotels, we exchanged contact info and took a picture. Then, we walked a few blocks together before arriving at our hotel and bid our new friend goodbye with warm embraces. What a beautiful experience we would have missed if we'd been seated at a table or if we had not struck up a conversation with a beautiful stranger. Not only did we share food and stories. We followed each other on Instagram. This is official. It's so official that we snagged an interview with her. (p.104)
I haven't been to New Orleans since I was 18, and that was to perform in a Teen Talent Competition where I competed nationally in electronic music, solo piano, and small instrumental ensemble. My older brother and I drove from South Georgia to Louisiana, and I still hear the jazz band playing at Cafe du Monde. The only other vivid memory I have is a bird pooing on my brother's shoulder at the Audubon Zoo. No wild shenanigans were going on because we were young, underage (at least I was), and good kids. The purpose was to win and return home safely. Both of which I did. Returning to New Orleans, now of legal age, I was eager to experience all the craziness the city had to offer before being in bed by 10 pm. The following morning we were up fairly early - 7 am headed to Cafe du Monde to grab some hot beignets. The place I first experienced jazz and sugar high. To burn off some of the 527 calories in the three beignets I was about to devour. I dressed for the occasion in workout clothes, and my heels were covered with KL tape and NB 327s. Sisters, no blisters. We set out on Decatur Street to get in our first 2000 steps of the day, only to be greeted by a three-block waiting line. Not today. Que Sera, Sera lead the way. Plus, I have those extra 527 calories to use and spend somewhere now.
We embarked on a new brunch joint quest. We're experienced travelers, so course correction isn't an issue. When you open your eyes and glance around, you get a volte-face. Spotting a local farmer's market, artisans, and food vendors. We slowed down and began taking in the incredible architecture and signage of shops and restaurants. This is why having schedules and agendas can hinder the spirit of spontaneity. But our hunger is growing. So we pick up our meandering pace but always make time for Kim to mingle with the locals and me, standing quietly by, smiling. She's a natural at conversing. Smiling is my most effective form of communication. It's like Kim has an inner little Brownie Girl Scout meets Fact Finder compass, which is all we really need for direction. She learns more in a 3-minute conversation than anything we could find on Yelp. And I'm always happy to smile and wait. Que Sera, Sera inspiration makes the direction clear to our eternal caffeine fix destination. It's insight. One block away. We know this is our new location because Kim discovered it online while looking for a hotel a few days ago. It's located in the Kimpton Hotel on Tchoupitoulas St. Try the pronunciation with me, CHOP-ah-too-lus, or "chop it to us." It's named Gospel Coffee and Boozy Treats, so we know it's forever. Everything we adore.
GOSPEL COFFEE The vibrant Louisiana gospel music history and the funloving nature of the New Orleans social scene are served in every cup at Gospel Coffee and Boozy Treats. You may have put it together now that Kim is always the scout. She’s like my personal Caleb and Joshua in my life—a scout who always brings back good news. As we savor our taco burritos and cappuccinos and take in Gospel Coffee's amazing atmosphere. Something very normal happens, Kim needs to locate a bathroom. Without fail, she drinks 80 or more ounces of water daily. Consequently, we're constantly on a mission to find a restroom. While on her daily mission, she discovered the Peacock Room a bougie highend cocktail bar. Once again delivering good news. We don't make reservations, we decide to Que Sera, Sera. “I Feel Lucky” starts playing. Thanks, Mary Chapin Carpenter.
After a couple hours of sidewalk strolling and burning 227 calories, we return to The Eliza Jane to finish some work for a client deadline. While that might sound depressing, it wasn't at all. The outdoor seating area allows for something akin to a private French-inspired cubicle paradise. We lounged and worked until the deadline was met. Time to get ready to go out. We made several stops that night, but we ended the night at The Peacock Room. I'll share more places we visited in our "leftovers" on Instagram. The website says it best, Peacock Room is "A spirit of opulence and opulent spirits combine in Peacock Room, a fun and fanciful cocktail bar in New Orleans' Central Business District. Expert bartenders, eclectic furniture, and shareable plates to savor make this cultured hangout with a contagious energy a guaranteed good time." They did not disappoint.
PEACOCK ROOM The ideal way to cap off both our evening and our very final night was our visit to the Peacock Room. It radiates a sense of grandeur; the lively atmosphere, exquisite aesthetics, and eclectic combination of elements already had me before trying anything on the menu. One thing did stand out. I know the place is called the Peacock Room, so obviously, there are peacock features, but they only have one white peacock. I didn't get a great picture, but it stood out. I was like, is that real? Are their white peacocks? Yes, and they're not albino.
Meaning of the White Peacock “The soul-self reveals itself, having been on the spiritual path full of trials and tests which presents the biggest test of all, the test of faith. One cannot know the depth of their own faith until that faith has been tested". The White Peacock symbolizes the Divine self-realized, purified and cleansed the illuminated soul self is seen as if witnessing itself being born again the Divine self is resurrected from the fire of fear and the shadows of doubt. White Peacock is aligned to the higher consciousness, and the greatest most benevolent outcomes.”
Does anyone else feel like a White Peacock?
COUVANT
The following day before hitting the road to see family in Mississippi, we had to eat at the hotel's restaurant, Couvant, which means to covent, Old French for gathering or assembling together. This is not your average hotel breakfast. No continental breakfast bar. Legit on all levels. Executive Chef Ryan Pearson a New Orleans native with an impressive culinary resume. Sous Chef of Michelin-starred restaurant, Daniel, in New York City, Chef Consultant in France, helping open the first high-end New Orleans Brasserie in Paris, Executive Sous Chef for Michelin-starred and James Beard Award recipient, Batard, and Chef Tournant at Michelin-starred Nomad in New York City. I feel like I'm name-dropping at a fine brunch. This was the perfect table to end on.
TOP IT OFF
MŨ THONI KIARIE 48, WRITER OAKLAND, CA Mũthoni Kiarie was raised in Nairobi where she originally discovered her penchant for spinning dark tales about life around her. She has since been published in The Porter House Review, Narrative Magazine, Dismantle - An Anthology, The Weeklings, Generations Literature Magazine, among others. Mũthoni is a Mills College MFA graduate and an alumna of the Voices of Our Nations Arts Foundation and the Las Dos Brujas Writers’ Workshops. She lives and loves her adopted home in Oakland, CA while constantly pining for her original home, Kenya.
F I R S T R E C O R D / C D Y O U B O U G H T W IT H Y O U R O W N M O N E Y . D O YOU STILL HAVE IT? K a r y n W h i t e ’ s d e b u t a l b u m , “ K a r y n W h i t e ” . I w a s i n b o ar d i n g s c h o o l i n K e n y a i n t h e e a r l y 9 0 s a n d a l l m y g i r l f r i e n d s w e r e c r az y f o r t h i s a l b u m . W e ’ d g a t h e r a r o u n d e a c h o t h e r ’ s r o o m s af te r l i g h ts o u t t r y i n g t o s o f t l y s i n g t h e l y r i c s t o t h e s o n g s o n t h e al b u m , h o p i n g n o o n e w o u l d h e a r u s . I w a s s o o b s e s s e d , I s c rap e d t o g e t h e r a l l m y a l l o w a n c e t o g e t t h i s c a s s e t t e . M y f av o r i te so n g w a s “ S u p e r w o m a n ” w h i c h s p o k e o f t h e p a i n o f a w o m an i n a l o v e l e s s m a r r i a g e a n d i n a l l m y t e e n a g e w i s d o m , I f e lt I r e al l y u n d e r s t o o d . I d o n ’ t h a v e t h e c a s s e t t e a n y l o n g e r , I m e an w h o e v e n h a s t h o s e a n y l o n g e r . B u t I d o l i s t e n t o t h i s a l b u m q u i te a b i t sti l l i n m y m u s i c s t r e a m i n g a p p . It t r a n s p o r t s m e b a c k a n d I sti l l th i n k it’s a work of high art.
TOP IT OFF
MŨ THONI KIARIE
D E S C R I B E Y O U R P E R F E C T N IG H T A T H O M E . W H A T D O Y O U L IK E TO EAT, DRINK, AND DO? I ’ l l p u t o n s o m e m u s i c , s o m e t h i n g f r o m h o m e . I’ m a b i g S au ti S o l f a n . T h e i r s o n g s c a n g e t m e d a n c i n g i n n o t i m e o r s a d at l o st l o v e o r i n a w e o f t h e i r v i d e o a r t i s t r y . A n y w a y , t h e n I’ l l c o o k a m e al w h i l e t a k i n g l i t t l e d a n c e b r e a k s . I l o v e s e a b a s s a n d I l i k e to e x p e r i m e n t w i t h d i f f e r e n t r e c i p e s . B a k e d , r o a s t e d , p an f r i e d o n a h o t s k i l l e t t i l l t h e s k i n c u r l s I i n t o i t s e l f . A n d I’ l l s e r v e i t w i th s o m e p i c k l e d c u c u m b e r s a l a d , o r s o m e j a s m i n r i c e w ith a q u i c k t o m a t o s a u c e . I d i d n ’ t g r o w u p e a t i n g d e s s e r t o f t e n , so I w i l l h a v e a g l a s s o f w i n e i n s t e a d o f d e s s e r t . I l o v e a c h i l l ed , m i n e r al l y A l b a r i n o . I t g o e s s o w e l l w i t h w h i t e f i s h . O n c e I’ v e h ad d i n n e r , I ’ l l s e t t l e i n w i t h a b o o k t h e n w r i t e a b i t w o r k i n g o n m y sh o r t stories. It’s the best kind of night.
D E S C R I B E A T I M E Y O U F E L T W E L C O M E D IN S O M E O N E ’ S H O M E I N A N E X P E C T E D W A Y O R H O W A F A M IL Y M E M B E R M A D E Y O U F E E L S P E C I A L W H E N Y O U C A M E T O T H E IR H O M E . I g r e w u p i n a b i g f a m i l y , l o t s o f c o u s i n s a n d w e ’ d b e i n e ac h o t h e r ’ s h o m e s a l l t h e t i m e . In m y a u n t i e s h o m e s , I’ d al w ay s f e e l welcome. Their kitchens were constantly sending out delicious f o o d t h a t f i l l e d o u r b e l l i e s j u s t i n t i m e f o r u s t o r u n o u tsi d e a g a i n a n d r o l l d o w n t h e g r a s s y h i l l , r i d e o u r b i k e s , c h ase e ac h other around in the tall grasses behind our houses, then run b a c k i n f o r m o r e d e l i c i o u s n e s s . I c h e r i s h t h e s e m e m or i e s e v e n more as the years pass.
