It’s come to this: I yelled at a car this week. Yes, I was having a bad day. Nothing major (trouble sleeping, the devastation of a missed haircut appointment, difficult work moments) and the car did stop for me to cross the street. I waved my thanks and the driver failed to acknowledge my politesse. So, I yelled, (screamed?) “Hey! Thank You!” shaking my head with great judgment. How could anyone leave a thank you dangling like that?

I’ve been in my home, with my husband, for nearly one year, and yes, I’m glad we love each other and like each other, but I had no idea what eternity meant until now. I guess I’ve hit a covid-wall.

How about you? Maybe the humble offerings below will brighten your day.


Yes, what you’ve heard about Minari, is true, it is fantastic.  We popped up a giant bowl of popcorn, slicked it with butter, salt and turmeric, then opened a great bottle of red wine, and settled in. We turned off the lights, turned off our phones, made a no talking rule and pretended we were at the movies.

As a quick aside, I’ve been reading George Saunders’s new book on writing, A Swim in a Pond in the Rain, (which I am loving by the way) and I applied his teaching to the film. What breadcrumbs were dropped throughout the film? How were they used to propel the story forward? What do I (viewer/reader) wonder about? Do the scenes, one after the other, answer my questions and pose new ones? What did the filmmaker include at the start of the film (the proverbial gun on the wall) that shows up later in a satisfying and surprising way?
I also want to say, sure…we’ve all had a year. But the Yi family’s year? Wow.

Just check out this joyful eye candy, Joana Vasconcelo’s site-specific installation














I have music for you! Recomposed by Max Richter: Vivaldi, the Four Seasons has been on heavy rotation at our house. There’s something wonderful about slightly defamiliarizing the familiar. I mean, that is sort of what life is right now, no? Everything is weird. Everything is slightly off. Let’s listen to some music we all know, and perhaps draw comfort from with a slightly skewed, gorgeous sound.

Wynton Marsalis has a new piece as well, Democracy Suite. You can hear him speak about it in an interview on PBS Newshour. I love how he musically includes the rhythm, intensity, and percussion of a “Black Lives Matter” chant, yet with no words.

Also, this poem by Lucille Clifton, read by Terrance Hayes, Cutting Greens, has really touched me. I love seeing his fanboy response.












Watch this, Alison Roman bean homage, then make it! I did and I was so glad. I replaced the greens with broccolini because, broccolini.

The New York Times wrote a one sentence homage to chocolate pudding, “a dessert of great comfort.” When I was a kid, my aunt made the best chocolate pudding. She did things like put sesame seeds in it, so delicious. The comfort-in-pudding zeitgeist, caused me to dig out this gem.

Coffee Custard (from India Joze in Santa Cruz)

8 egg yolks
½ c sugar
2t vanilla
1 c milk
1 c strong coffee
¾ c heavy cream

  • Heat oven to 325 degrees.
  • Scald milk and coffee together, leave to slightly cool
  • Put egg yolks into a bowl. Add sugar and vanilla, beat w/whisk until mixed but not airy.
  • Add heavy cream to scalded milk then add to yolk mixture.
  • Arrange ramekins, or coffee cups in a 9×13 pan and fill cups with custard.
  • Carefully pour hot water into pan, creating a bath for the custard cups—about halfway up the sides.
  • Place in oven and bake till custard is firm, about 30 minutes.
  • Remove custard cups from pan and allow to cool. Place in fridge.
  • Serve with a dollop of whipped cream if you like.
























Wishing you all ease of mind. Slowly but surely. I know many people are suffering (cold, no power, no food on shelves at the grocery store, water struggles) in Texas. If you have the means, if you are safe and warm, consider donating to help out our fellow citizens.  Stanley donated here: Austin Pets Alive. And I donated here: Austin Area Urban League.

Stanley Pucci has hit a wall too.