The Side Dish is Here!

Welcome! Sharing my writing is something I have been thinking about doing for a very long time and what better way to begin than just by, well, doing it!

Putting anything out into the world that you create is scary and vulnerable I’ve found, but having sat on this for so long — I had to get started.

Behind the name: The Side Dish is a play on words.

And while I am an informal, North American I would like to rebrand “dishing” as a way to connect with others vs. an activity of total gossip and/or mal intent (sometimes it is though and that’s OK).

Behind the logo: the black and white photo you keep seeing is of my parents - dad on a stoop in Brooklyn and mom posing for the camera in Vegas! They have provided me with every experience of my life and have encouraged me to never stop writing.

Small but mighty, we grew up around a glass dinner table situated in my parent’s home in Las Vegas. Our family of four, (sometimes six if you count the time period my maternal grandparents lived with us) spent our evenings talking about our day (which consisted of spelling homework and recess goings on). Weekends often made up of sitting around my grandmother’s table eating her homemade enchiladas (which I’ve yet to perfect). Yes, it was about the food but also about the conversation and the company kept.

My dad and I in our kitchen in Las Vegas. Where my love for storytelling began!

My New York City middle school trusted it’s pre-pubescent population to leave the building at lunch and often I’d go around the corner to my apartment with multiple classmates in tow. My mom eagerly waited for us to arrive, immersing herself in conversation about niche tween drama before shepherding us back an hour later to make it before the bell rang.

In high school, though complex sports and work schedules interfered, my parents did their best to sit around the dinner table where we’d talk about our days and catch up — often with Access Hollywood blasting in the background. RIP to Billy Bush’s career BTW!

Moving onto college at the University of Delaware, my friends and I sat in the dining hall for hours — not because we necessarily enjoyed it’s offerings of all you can eat cereal and a questionable seafood night, but because of the laughs we shared and gossip exchanged while we were together.

I’d be remiss if I didn't mention the hundreds (thousands?) of dinners outings I’ve been fortunate enough to partake in — I began going to The Palm in Las Vegas as a baby - my sister and I have caricatures on the wall. This is where I learned to speak to waiters, look them in the eye and place my order.

College best friends during one of our hours long Sunday evening debriefs at Iron Hill Brewery in Newark, Delaware.

And so, as I’ve gotten older and have created a chosen family of my own, I still find myself organizing dinners, sometimes out of tradition, sometimes out of celebration and sometimes just because heading uptown to see my parents on a Sunday and “dish” fills up my cup enough to take on the week ahead. And this has made up so much of the fabric of my happiness/ overall stability. Dramatic? Yes, but true!

But this is not a newsletter explicitly about food or restaurants (sometimes it will be) but rather about the conversations that ignite around the table. What do you talk about when you’re with your closest friends and family and husband? Or with coworkers or complete strangers? The answer is: TV, movies, the pair of The Row boots you found online (last pair in stock & in your size), shopping, neighborhood gossip, celebrity gossip. The fight you overheard on the subway, the way people have lost all etiquette post pandemic, the documentary that you can’t stop thinking about, small businesses you love, and interviews with people who inspire you.

One of hundreds of family dinners at Tribeca Grill - a favorite

For so long I couldn’t do this because I didn’t have a focus, but isn't that the beauty of it? To be fascinated by so much? The smorgasbord of life so to speak.

There are so many stories to be shared. In fact, I used to sit on the toilet as a child and say “tell me story mama” as my mother waited for me to wrap things up. Storytelling is truly my passion and I hope this is only the beginning as there are so many incredible stories to be shared.

I look forward to “dishing” with you!

For my grandparents, Juanita and Jim Lemos, who welcomed everyone around their table and always listened to what I had to say