A Movement in Every Direction: Legacies of the Great Migration

I recently had the privilege to be one of the first people to experience an exhibit at the Mississippi Museum of Art, in Jackson, MS. Intrigued, excited, curious to learn more, I accepted the invitation and hit the road. The entire exhibit left me speechless. 

The Great Migration had its first beginnings in 1915. A mass exodus of Black Americans from the South to the North, East, West sparked cultural revolutions and brought along series of histories and ancestral stories that have continued to contribute to the generations today. Many are steeped in heartbreak, tragedy, pain, confusion. Homes wrenched and torn apart, individuals and full communities terrorized by Jim Crow laws, lynchings, and systemic racism. Yet still then, even there, life still found a way. Beautiful stories emerged, new lives and reawakenings were grasped onto. Land was bought and roots were planted, family grown in a new era. 

For “A Movement in Every Direction: Legacies of the Great Migration,” 12 Black artists were given space and time to think about the lasting impact that the Great Migration had on the generations in their family, and also themselves. Familial research, conversations, access to archives led to previously unknown family histories, emotional digging and creative interpretation. 

The exhibit is stunning, overwhelming. None of these are my story to tell, only to share that you need to hear them, see, experience. I went in to be curious, soak in, learn from them in a classroom different than the desked walls of our youth. 

I got emotional, as one does. The one that got me was a series of letters and photographs from Larry W. Cook, his exploring of intergenerational fatherhood, and the impact of leaving. The line, “I needed you then and I need you now,” ripped my heart. I attempted to go find a quiet corner to wipe my tears and stumbled into the Carrie Mae Weems exhibit, her video installation of the story of her great grandfather who was attacked by a white mob, left for dead, escaped and his journey of following the North Star to Chicago, and how his leaving affected the entire family and generations to follow.

The genius, beauty, and haunting 3 part video series, A House Called Florida, by Allison Janae Hamilton, had me mesmerized, entranced with her portrayal of social, political and environmental issues captured in a surrealist imagery. 

And so many more. But I need you to go immerse yourself, once again, these are not my stories to tell. 

Each one had me in its clutches, losing time, eyes imploring over every detail and taking in each part of the story. Somewhere I could keep going back to and spending hours. Stories so varied from my own, my heart breaking as an empath only being able to imagine the emotional and continued cost. 

Before December, I had never heard of the Great Migration. Maybe it had been spoken about during a history class, but the gloss over was apparent. An entire section of history has opened, with resources available and stories told in achingly beautiful ways. 

Make a trip to Jackson, MS. Go to the MMA, visit its other museums, eat at the local restaurants and find a souvenir from a local shop or artisan. Make history move. 

ON FINDING A JOURNAL FROM 17

A journal entry from age 17. 

I sank to my knees. With each syllable, tears sprang to my eyes, so by the end the dam of emotion spilled over onto my cheeks, down my neck, cascading down my chest. Rivers of revealed devastation. 

 May 8, 2009

“Garrett (my brother) did very well at his track meet today, taking 1st in the long jump and the 400. I am so proud of him, he’s really starting to hit his stride. But I hate that I also can’t help to think about myself. I’m a failure. I’ve done nothing and it even feels like my horse training sucks and I’m not doing anything special with them. Garrett’s amazing at guitar, singing, track, cross country, has so many friends and girls always swooning over him, and I’m basically doing nothing. Once again, he’s the star and I’m just…his fan. I mean, what can I say I’ve done? I’m good at getting in car accidents and having surgeries and up-ending everyone’s lives and getting sick and causing trouble. Everyone has some kind of claim to fame in this family and compared to the rest of my siblings I’m just taking up useless space. I feel so gray, so boring and unachievable. I’m not jealous of Garrett, I just wish I had my own thing that I totally dominated, but it seems like everything I do and try is a losing battle, even with my horses it’s hard because of my injuries and I can’t stay consistent enough to get them to their potential. I don’t know. Maybe I’ll just be that loser sibling who never actually does anything. I feel sad. I feel sorry for everyone putting up with me. I hate pity and I feel like everyone pities me right now. Like, “she’s the Wolle always getting hurt and going to doctors and troubling her family”. Probably being dramatic, but that’s how it feels. I wish I could see into the future.”

Every cell in my body held its breath. Each vein in my heart was ripped and shredded. I have always had a perfectionism streak, a weird juxtaposition of being the oldest twin and youngest duo of the family. Growing up with a range of interests, yet nothing felt like it was mine to own except my horses, that of course was marred by a car accident. I was so harsh and severe with myself. A baby and felt like a failure for supposedly not having dominated something. So much despair. My poor, sweet girl. To grab her face, pull her to this year. Sit her down and have a powerpoint presentation. Smooth the worry lines in her forehead that I still carry. Tell her to soften. I want to release her from the comparison and mental games, the dangerous thoughts that come and go and sometimes stay longer than is healthy. To release her from feeling like she has to fit in and belong anywhere, that we end up creating that belonging and sense of home wherever we go. 

And I think it’s so triggering, because in my heart there are new ways that I still believe those same things, right? How have the circumstances shifted but my thoughts have remained the same? When I turn 40, what will I think while perusing my journals from year, age 30? I do acknowledge that I am quite a bit wordier now, so I will probably be breathing through and going, “oh my god get to the point, but….wow”. I hope I don’t have as much blinding me, paralysis of decision making, a block meaning I’m unable to see the beauty and unique perspectives, forgetting to live in the moments while I have them. I fight for it every day, am better about it now, but in what ways am I still that 17 yr old? 

Therapy has garnered healing inner child wounds, however, it feels like we haven’t made it that far, as much as I’ve gone. Thinking of getting to age 17 seems daunting, even getting into my 20’s feels insurmountable when there is so much to work with early on. My other childhood journals are back at my parent’s house and honestly, I am so thankful for that. I might never have been able to find my way back from that rabbit hole. 

How do we heal these wounds within us? Some so subtle we forgot they were there, hidden beneath layers and layers of scar tissue, glossed over and forgotten because of more adult items and situations. Acknowledging, going back, holding yourself at that age, asking what you needed and giving it to them, looking around now and opening your eyes to how you still keep those patterns in play. What do you need to do to make changes, to release. 

What are some ways the 17 year old version of you is still active in your life? Do they come out in romantic relationships, work situations, friendships? Do you see yourself through their eyes, still as 17 and craving so much more? The teenage film covering all of the amazing things you have done and experienced? 

I saw this TikTok about saving a compliment from a boss for a “work folder” to use then when asking for a promotion. Now I think I have to start a “Badass Folder”, where I save pictures or texts or things that I’ve done, from cool friend hangs, adventures, to work stuff and trips, etc, for the bad days, the gray, to look through the folder and remind myself/us where we’ve been, what we’ve done.

Because, baby, look at us go. 

Happy Valentine's Day

Happy Valentine’s Day 🖤 whether you are in a relationship, single, middle ground purgatory or simply complicated (le sigh), I really hope you savor the day. I mean, every day, but this day is a good reset for remembering to do it on the daily.

As a romantic person who has had a closed door on romantic love for, well basically forever, I knew quickly, young, that if I wanted those experiences I would have to do them myself. Hopefully with a partner one day, but if I had waited for that specific relationship to do anything in my life, I wouldn’t be here.

That’s why you see me being ridiculous on a Tuesday lunch, a cocktail at night, elaborations instead of quick and convenient. Cigars outside for hours to let the mind wander to the vast galaxies in my mind. I want the seconds to last longer and moments to fill my body until it overflows. Make the table. Invite the friends. Take the trip. Buy yourself flowers. Hike to the waterfall. Chase the sun. Read for hours in bed and run the goddamn bath. Follow the pings, that intuition. Make and do the things for yourself that you want to do with someone.

Say the things to the people when you feel them. Be scared and let them in anyway. Lick the wounds and embroider the scar when your light reveals the shadows they’re not ready to work through. Love your community. Let them love you. As much as it makes you want to vomit, keep your bleeding, bruised, godforsaken heart open. Make your life the one you’ve always wanted to live. And love anyway

The Houses that Built You

I am writing this alone, in the woods, sitting upon the remains of a once warm and active hearth. A forgotten homestead, its walls non-existent, the only nod to days past is the outline of a foundation and the brick fireplace, along with what I am sure are active ghosts.

As I trace my footsteps along the perimeter of what once was, glimpses of what it had been keep rising to my conscious, filtering in with reality. It is here. It is here because someone had the dream and vision for it. It is here because someone took what they had and made it into a physical object. Now, due to circumstances or situations, bones remain where walls once stood, memories have been passed down through generations or maybe they too, have been laid to rest alongside their hosts.

But the courage to build it stays.

This made me think humans in terms of houses. The houses we build, friendships, projects, or own internal awareness, houses built for love, adventure, care, healing. The house we present today, as now, maybe it’s brand new, paint still drying, perfect lighting, shiny appliances. I like this house, am excited for you to walk me through it, giving me the guided tour of all the things learned and seen. Yet, I want to see more. Not the finished basement or the four car garage, I want to see the remnants of the houses that have burned to the ground, the ones you have abandoned in parts of town no one goes. Show me the shaky foundations or the walls you took sledgehammers and the beams that crashed when everything fell apart.

I want to see the charred remains of the houses you have been, the homes you have built for other people. Because the house you are building now? It will all make sense. Why you chose the oak over the cherry, the brass pulls instead of the silver. The fenced in yard versus the open back that butts up to the forest. To know you now means more when I know your past. I want to revel in the houses you can’t wait to show me, that you are so proud of, as well as the ones you left condemned.

I want people in my life who have started over and over again. Rebuilding over and over again what they thought they knew and becoming who they are meant to be.

I want to know a thousand structures of you.

Wild Wednesdays - Autumn Savory Pears

Everyone is welcome. This savory dish will be the talk of your dinner party, the unforeseen star of the show, the recipe that everyone will ask for.

The bacon grease slipping the sides of the pears, the savory coating of the salt and pepper, the tangy cut of the vinegar and mustard is, well, chef’s kiss.

ENJOY!

Wild Wednesdays - Wine Container Takeover

Summer is coming to a close and I’m trying to not get too depressed amongst crazy life things (did anyone else get the blues or have the world fall out from under them after turning 30? Asking for a friend).

While navigating a new season have turned out to be way more reactionary and survival mode than I anticipated, there have been some super sweet moments along the way that has kept me sane.

While planning a last minute surprise party for a dear friend, I realized that I didn’t want the typical bottle containers for wine, and don’t even show me a plastic cooler. I wanted texture, Italian vibes, effortless summer….so cue some MacGyvering and that Can-Do attitude that keeps my life afloat most days.

The trick? I wanted to use some baskets that I have, but how do you make it work? The other trick? Keeping leftover materials from past shoots to come in clutch. Using clear plastic, I cut pieces large enough to fill the bottom of the basket and the sides. Cut the piece longer than you need, then add bottles and fill with ice, trim the extra and voila!

Now, go hurry and have some friends over for the last of summer Rosé :)

Cheers!

-Kat

Wild Wednesdays - Ranch Water Refresh

It is hot. Blazing. Scorching. It feels like some of the only physical touch I get these days is from the constant bead of sweat sliding its way down from my clavicle to my belly button, never mind the rivulets that stream down my legs. No jeans are safe. Pit stains are a fashion statement. The humidity is simultaneously laughing at us while being at 1000% and so thick it feels like we’re drowning.

So we’re tired. Hot and tired. Which means we need something easy, refreshing, and light.

This is a slight take on the Ranch Water Cocktail, I’m not reinventing the wheel because at this point in time I simply cannot, but hopefully this does the trick for ya.

Wild Wednesdays - Rustic Peach Galette

I just returned from being back home in Minnesota where the days are long, the time feels short, and someone is always in the kitchen! The farming and nostalgic recipes are rearin’ to be used so this pairing I created for Nashville Box Club, but one that uses my mom’s tried and true recipes!

Memories of her hands making this same dough, rolling it out, being in the kitchen. The pies cooking and radio on blast. Calling out to my Dad that it was time for supper after the 5 o’clock whistle blew.

The easiest pastry that can be used in multiple ways, this one as a galette. Don’t worry, she’s never been a lobbyist for the sugar board so this is minimal on added sugar and utilizes the natural flavor and juices of the fruit! Enjoy with whipped cream or vanilla ice cream and you’re set.

Wild Wednesdays - Summer Flower Rolls

Part of Wild Wednesdays is the permission to try something new and guess what, you don’t even have to be good at it.

I’ve never made any kind of spring roll or egg roll, until I go through the process it can seem intimidating and then once the steps are strode though I usually wonder where it has been all my life (remember how LONG it took me to even try making a martini because the simplicity of it was mountainous in trepidation?!)

These Summer Flower Rolls are insanely easy, if you don’t have access to edible flower, ask around! Just make you know if they have been sprayed or not. For this recipe I used pansies, bachelor buttons and yarrow, with some garnish of the little white daisy ones that I wouldn’t recommend only because they are super bitter!

And, as you can see by the lack of my skills, they don’t have to be perfect or show worthy, they just have to make it from the plate to your mouth. Feel free to substitute with other things that you might have in your fridge or want to try!

Just do it.

State of Wonder Margarita

If you have deduced anything about me, one of things is the propensity to take things too far, deep cut through the layers (usually, hopefully in the best way).

I started messing around with these flavors partially inspired by Ann Patchett’s book, “State of Wonder”, and my friend and amazing business coach Tiffany Napper asking me to be a part of her first JOY Session. Something a little wild, full of flavor, steeped in wonder….

So, while I can get all existential and in my feels and ruminate on literally everything in the Universe, I will keep those thoughts to myself and give you this amazing drink for the hot weekend we’re about to have. And pro tip? Use the Rose Aleppo Salt from Sip’n Bite for your glasses because it is * chef’s kiss * a game changer.

Cheers!

Wild Wednesdays - DIY Floral Ice

It’s hot, it’s muggy, everything and everyone is sweating. So much so that I feel like I’ve sweat past lives out onto the sidewalk while trudging to my destination in hopes of some cool relief.

Since we’re already going to be throwing ice into any drink we can, why not make it pretty?!

Find some edible flowers (ask friends/neighbors/etc if you don’t have any!), also use an app to identify and make sure you have the right ones, some varieties have sub species that are so similar but one is edible and one is not!

Buy some silicone ice trays - W+P Design has some good ones, Amazon of course, just follow your heart.

Fill the trays halfway with water. Add the flowers, let freeze for at least two hours, then take out and fill with ice cold water to the top. This way the flowers stay in the middle for that dramatic effect you want and won’t float to the top!

Et voilá! Spice up your 7th glass of water, your 5 o’clock cocktail or your kid’s lemonade.

Wild Wednesdays - Savory Summer Peach Dish

Now that the heat has arrived in Tennessee, the craving for fresh, juicy, crisp anything is real. I’m talking light summer meals because we’re already uncomfortable sweating through every inch of clothing we are wearing, don’t want to add overstuffed and bloated to that equation also. 

So check out this Savory Summer Peach Salad (?), I guess it is a salad but also maybe not, gonna give it the ability to be whatever it wants in this life. While this can be seen as more of an appetizer, if you want to make this your full meal, just add some meat like prosciutto and maybe some bread to help soak up some of the juices or even make your own small bites crostini. Add a glass of wine or a spritz and you quite literally have the perfect situation.

Enjoy!

Wild Wednesdays - Summer Supper Pt 1

Even with the weather being finicky and throwing us some serious shade (and cold), there have been enough brighter days to hold onto the beautiful fact that Spring is here and Summer is coming. Which makes me even more excited to eat outside basically every day and spend as much time as possible outside.

Last year during the throes of Covid, I got into playing with different grilled sandwich recipes and this one turned out to be one of my favorites, and when paired with the super easy Mediterranean-type salad it makes it complete. Cook together or make separately for a crowd!

So, pour yourself a drink, open the windows and let the summer roll around you as you make this delicious meal!

Pro tip: wait to add the fresh herbs if you are transporting to a friend’s house, adding them when you get there will look total baller and it will save the herbs from wilting too much in the salad!

Wild Wednesdays - Shelf Styling the Perfect Piece

What you are looking for will come along when the timing is right, if my life is anything else it continuously shows me that. So while I have been in the market for the perfect shelf/bar show off/storage, it hasn’t broken my heart when something gets sold on FB Marketplace before I get to it, a researched piece is too expensive, or none of them felt right, they didn’t move me.

But that changed when I was scrolling through IG stories and my gals at Patina + Co popped up with some new goodies that just got delivered to the shop. My heart stopped as the story panned across the store and this beauty practically jumped out at me, I had to click back twice to capture it on a screenshot to send and make sure it was still available. While my day was not planned around buying a piece of furniture, I HAD to go. Follow that intuition, babes.

She was perfect, although I did have to peruse the store because there were so many pieces for different spots that I was absolutely drooling over, and all so unique! All of me wanted to open a drawer only to find a secret drawer only to discover a long lost secret of the British Government or becoming entangled in a National Treasure situation….but alas Nicholas Cage never showed up and defending the honor of America would have to wait another day.

I lean more towards maximalism (minimalists stand down), so when I think of styling a piece of furniture I try to add in these elements: something green/organic (like a plant), an art piece, function (stuff that needs storage or to be on the shelf), layers and different textures (i.e. different wood, fabric, levels, etc). Most likely you are buying something to fill a need of storage but that doesn’t mean that you can’t add in your style or personality. I added the layers of a fabric piece I got in Mexico, an olive tree stand from California, custom lunch trays from 3 Dot Wood Design, books, a vintage ostrich skin cocktail case, and just a portion of my found glassware collection. Driftwood, shells and bones from past jobs, home and former lovers (the bones being a gift, not THE bones of my former lovers).

The best kinds of deliveries end with cocktails and catching up, I am so very thankful to Stacy and Monica entertaining my dreaming and loving on me, this piece is so perfect and I can’t wait to see what gets put on these shelves over the years!

Wild Wednesdays - Goat Cheese with Edible Flowers

The sun is back, summer is coming, Kat is happy again.

Woof, I don’t know about y’all but winter hits me harder e v e r y year and I am sick of it. But the last two weeks have played games with our hearts here in Nashville and inspiration and creativity is returning, along with a full heart.

Easy summer appetizer? Beautiful handiwork that takes 10 minutes? Go play. Here ya go.

Snow Day Sno Cone - But Make it Adult

I really cannot take credit for this, because until our group text received a message from my friend Kate that stated, “I put a container outside to catch the sleet for sno cones, you can thank me later,” I really had no idea.

So, thank you, Kate.

So that afternoon, post sleeting, now with a bucket about a quarter of the way full of the most tiny, perfect spheres of ice, I braved the cold and it was time to play. Kitty’s Cigar + Cocktail Lounge was open for business, even if just for myself since my roommate and boyfriend refused to come outside. I decided to go three different ways with this, to touch on a few different flavor profiles, I would just recommend to make sure all liquids are as cold as you can get them before pouring over so that the ice doesn’t melt as much.

We’ve got Chocolate + Bourbon, Pineapple Honey + Tequila, and a touch of the warmer weather with Banana Cream Rum.

So, bundle up yourself (and the kids, if you must) and head outside to enjoy. Pro tip, wear gloves. Recipes are at the bottom.

Don’t slip.

Stolen Moments

This post had me writing late last night, unable to sleep, beats pumping through the pathways in my body. It feels like these little electrical pulses that radiate through to my hands, at the same time making me feel strangely powerful and also concerned about my circulation. The hum? Has anyone else felt that? An energy moving that has to be explored and it won’t let you rest until it manifests. This gentle ebbing of something needing to break the shoreline, crash into the rocks and ignite upward.

I’ve been deep diving into vintage photographs recently, mainly due to discovering the trove of vintage National Geographic archives on Pinterest. Something I grew up on, the rare treat my parents actually bought and the stacks that lined our shelves, certain issues dog-eared, coffee stained, what the pages contained setting free imagination, yearning for foreign lands and strangers, exotic cultures and customs. But there’s also something else to the photographs, it stirs something, breathes something..

Pictures mean a lot to me, yet while my friends have been able to grind past the barrier, I’ve rarely let lovers or boyfriends take pictures of me. Like, regular pictures, no nudes or sexy-ness (sorry if that’s disappointing). It’s happened occasionally but even now I cringe thinking they have those memories on their phone (or maybe not and I’m being super vain). I keep trying to dig into the meaning and background of this and don’t worry, my dear therapist who is probably reading this, we’ll be talking about this as soon as we finish EMDR on that other thing. I choke, freeze, turn into the most awkward object in the room and feel like something is being stolen from me, without permission. Maybe it’s because I knew that we would never last or it was a passing fling, maybe it’s because there are legit only 5 photographers in the world that I actually trust to take my picture. But it makes for the innocent, relaxed, uncensured moments to be few and far between. The stolen moments where we aren’t faced with the split second decision to be real or a manicured version of ourselves.

It’s so strange. There is Native American folklore about pictures that also share similar thoughts with mirrors. Certain tribes (specifically from the Great Plains) believed that to let your picture be taken, that meant your soul was stolen by the camera and it disrespected the spirit world. So they were terrified when the white settlers started rolling through with cameras and wanting to document. Eventually though, they came to view photographs as cherished possessions and ancestral heritage.

It does, though, capture a part of your spirit, and soul. It captures you in a moment either of vulnerability, of happiness, perhaps caught off-guard and unprepared or inviting because you want your image captured.

But I see these pictures and they make my heart ache. I want to know everything, I want to be there with them, I want to know what they were talking about, loving, hating, worrying, what stirred them with passion and what left them wondering. Because, inevitably, most of these humans captured are either gone from this world or older and in a phase of life that is in a different realm. And, you never know. You never know the last time you are going to see someone or experience something with them.

And I am living in the era of the magazine, I’m in the era of vacations with friends and a body that usually cooperates (minus past injuries but hey, can still ski, barely). Pre Covid, hopefully soon somewhat post, the dinner parties and birthdays and days at the lake, the nights at the bowling alley, the bars we haunted and the land we ran across to the lakes we skinny dipped in. They were living for the time and memories, not the picture, not the gram. It happened to be captured, it wasn’t captured to say that it happened. They didn’t take the picture and then stop what they were doing to post about it, something that I’m quite guilty of doing, although I try to be cognizant of those kinds of actions.

What happened to living and not simply existing, existing to post or show a perfect life. To not immediately looking at the angle of my thighs or the bend in my arm, correcting immediately to take five more pictures and choosing one minutely distinct from the rest. I want to talk about the things that matter and don’t, to talk about memories of past trips and upcoming events, theories of the universe and stories of the sky. What is inspiring and dumbfounding, boils our blood and stupefies us in wonder. To be so curious about something to go there without a perfectly planned trip or itinerary and least of all, cell service. When did we, when did I, stop living like that.

But, I do want the pictures to remember it. To recall the times when my body was young and nubile, my cares were less and laughter came easy. When the get-up-and-go was simple and awe was easily attainable. When my worn, wrinkled and sun leathered hands pick up the picture of my girlfriends and I, flashes of the dance parties, awkward encounters, beautiful meals, shared moments and the stunning joy of youth plays through my mind like an old movie reel.

I’ll get lost in a daze, the summer nights that felt endless, cigar smoke blowing, laughter ringing, drinks sloshing, and the conversation flowing like honey. Closing my eyes to the sound of my friends voices, both comforting and devastating. That velvet humidity slipping over my skin like a dip into water, the honeysuckle riding the occasional breeze like a perfume accompanying Mother Nature gliding through the door.

I don’t really have pictures from those nights, or many nights and days. I do want them though. Even just one. One picture. To fill the albums my daughters and granddaughters will comb through one day, looking for evidence that I was once like them. I will slyly tell them stories of past lives, as they get older adding more details and audaciousness, maybe even causing a gasp or two. I’ll smile because for the boundaries and barriers, the things and rules that I held onto for too long, thank god there were times I just didn’t.

Let your spirit be stolen, just for a moment. Then let it free again.

Wild Wednesdays - Stock the Bar - Part 1

The latest version of bar hopping is traveling from the kitchen table to the wine rack on the other side of the fridge, and deciding what you want from a menu is staring at your supplies and deciphering what ingredients you have to make something and the exasperation and exhilaration of yelling above the din of strangers and music to a bartender who you contemplate slipping your number to at the end of the night has now been exchanged to barking an order at your roommate or partner for a Gin + Tonic, heavy on the gin because the Zoom calls today…

The rise of the at-home bartender is at an all time high. Covid has taken away ease of accessibility of our favorite bars and restaurants (but if they’re still open, go order something from them right now). Maybe it’s instilled a sense of curiosity or given you the courage to tackle the seemingly tall task of conquering a cocktail. I get messages from friends or followers who are at the store and staring at the never ending aisles wondering what to buy, so I decided to give this very ambiguous overview for a starting point.

First of all, let that intimidation fall away. There are so. Many. Options. It’s ok if you didn’t buy the same top shelf bourbon as your friend or you can’t tell the differences between gins yet. You’ll get there and by experimenting will develop your palate and begin to notice those subtle differences. And trust me, friends will be delighted that you asked them over to make them anything and spend time with you, so don’t worry if it’s the very best, masterful drink they’ve ever had, the company makes it perfect. 

Cocktail wise? I suggest learning 1-3 drinks. Enough to give you a little range and once you have those under your belt and feel like you really own them, go forth and play. Experiment, mess up, play with variations, give yourself permission to annihilate ingredients! I’ve made some of my best cocktails when I let curiosity guide me and also knowing that you can adjust levels of ingredients doesn’t mean it was bad, improvements take time. 

Liquor. Recommending at least one clear and one dark liquor will give you at least two different profiles to educate on and that means you can also satisfy drinks for friends on either side. Some people will drink anything that tastes like kerosene and up, others won’t touch it if it isn’t vodka. If you have an offer of both you have a chance of catching both sides (and if you have a friend who hates everything, suggest they pick a bottle of wine or you can make them the H20 Cocktail with an extra lime wedge). 

Kitty’s Picks:

• Bourbon

• Gin

• Tequila

BOURBON/WHISKEY

• Old Fashioned

• Whiskey sour

• Neat

• Manhattan

• Hot Toddy

GIN

• Gin + Tonic

• Dirty Martini

• Gin Fizz

• French 75

• Bijou

VODKA

• Moscow Mule

• Marinti 

• Vodka Tonic/Soda

• Bloody Mary

TEQUILA

• Makes me crazy (not a drink, just fact) 

• Margarita

• Paloma

• Tequila Soda

• St - Rita

MEZCAL

• Mezcal Negroni

• Neat

• French Intervention

• Mezcal Margarita

RUM

• Daiquiri

• Cuba Libre

• Mai Tai

• Dark & Stormy

Liquers/Digestifs/Apertifs. When I started filming the short little intro I began to realize I had SO much more to say about literally everything, so maybe at one point I’ll do some fun facts about each liquor and its sisters or derivatives? 

It got me really going on the Digestifs and Apertifs part, there are so very many to choose from, different levels of alcohols, flavors, etc, so, just gonna say. Try them. And don’t be afraid of starting with a pick from the bottom shelf *gasp* I know, but this way if you start with Triple Sec and find out you like the cocktails you’ve made with it, then you can graduate into using Cointreau or Grand Marnier or Dry Curacao and up your game even more. Amaros are a game all of their own with the Rabarbaros, Melettis, Braulios, Avernas, then the Fernets, Chartreuses, Aperols, the list goes on. Tasting profiles range from a cola-esque profile to pine and mint, so, once again, if you don’t like one, move onto the next because there is a flavor for everyone.

Kitty’s Picks:

• Dry Curacao

• Aperol

• Campari

• Meletti

• Averna

Bitters. Something you don’t know why you need it but the Old Fashioned Recipe calls for it and you bought it and the same bottle has been sitting on the shelf for four years. Ironically, bitters and amaros are very similar, they are sort of the same thing in different concentrations. Both are botanicals and herbs mixed with clear liquor at highly concentrated alcohol contents, the different is that bitters have a 35-45% alcohol level and you only use a few drops at a time, which is technically why are they are considered non alcoholic. 

Adding a few drops is meant to enhance the flavors of the liquor in your cocktail, not to overpower them, which is why you only use a small amount. There are many kinds of bitters, but starting off I recommend the Angostura Aromatic Bitters and Orange Bitters. With those two you will be able to start making more variety of drinks and can expand from there into chocolate bitter, rhubarb, mint, etc.

Kitty’s picks:

• Angostura

• Orange

Simple Syrups. So easy to make it’s not even funny. Literally just a type of sugar and water, meant enhance and potentially change a flavor profile. These can be made using white sugar, honey or agave, and equal parts water. That is a basic simple, and from there you can add fruit, herbs, etc for your cocktails. 

Kitty’s Picks;

• Basic

• Pineapple

• Honey

I’ve always got limes and lemons on hand and the citrus is needed to cut through and give way to other flavors in drinks, but be careful that they don’t overpower. Also, drink water. Throw that citrus shiz in that glass with some ice and your body will be giving you pray hands emojis. 

Kitty’s Picks:

• Lemons

• Limes

• Orange 

Have fun, enjoy responsibly, and let me know what you’re making.

Wild Wednesdays - Bathtub Bon Appetit

The time has come.

Bathtub Bon Appetit. What is one of my favorite and ultimate ways to relax and what appears to be everyone’s less than secret obsession, is here. It’s kind of extra, self-indulgent, and pretty incredible. I feel like I should have my friends who have no gone on to try it for themselves to write reviews to show that it lives up to its hype. I’ve been doing it so long I don’t really remember when it started, only that at the first time I did it was because there was no other thing I needed most than to eat a McDonald’s burger in the bath. Fairytale beginning, amiright.

Now it’s moved onto cooking complicated dishes (or doing a fun game of what can I make from the pantry), sipping on a cocktail that fits the food and r-e-l-a-x-i-n-g.

It’s a combination of all the self care. Amazing food, tasty cocktail, bath, oils, crystals, reading or watching. Music and cooking. A time to decompress and stop time. The cooking begins the art of the slow down, the bath running, music playing, beginning to let the day go.

Soak a minimum of 20-30 minutes. You’re welcome.

60's Christmas Inspo - Grapefruit Gum Drops

So, here’s the thing. Kitty wanted a 1960’s themed Christmas Party (think Madmen meets Leave It to Beaver) with a house full of like 50 friends, martinis and old fashioneds splashing around, 60’s era appetizers and food being dipped into and falling on the floor, the record player raging and laughter ringing throughout the house…and Covid ruined it.

So, redirected. Six of our pod members were still down to meet and do a little themed thing along with white elephant and playing some board games.

Dirty Martinis were had, butterfly shrimp, puppy chow, meatballs and baked brie was had (among other delicious things. We did white elephant (with an actual ceramic white elephant somehow beating out the other gifts as the most sought after prize. Farkle was played and decaf coffee was drank and I asked everyone to leave at 9:45 pm (don’t worry they stayed until 10:30pm).

BUT. The gem of the show were the Grapefruit Gumdrops that had intimidated me for YEARS, and, like a lot of hard things I’ve tackled this quarantine, were something I wanted to complete and accomplish so that the scary candy making monsters weren’t lurking in the closet anymore.

Turns out, they are so easy and perfectly delicious. So, everyone make these whether you are going to eat them all or not. They are pretty, holiday spirit-y, and will make you feel like a badass in the kitchen whether you make them for yourself or give them away.

*Recipe from Better Home + Gardens/Dec 2017