At a time when things have never felt more divisive, I hopped in the car on a beautiful spring Sunday morning, heading north from our little farm in Lewis County up to Chimacum, Washington, for a tasting tour at Finnriver Farm and Cidery, a grassroots organization hell-bent on reconnecting with the land and growing community.

It was when I started seeing her bagels pop up in her IG feed that I knew I needed to discover just where Michelle was headed because I knew wherever it was, I wanted to follow – potentially eating bagels along the way.

This is not the first time I’ve written about Muhammad Ayub and what he’s doing at Dancing Goats and Singing Chickens Organic Farm. It’s not the second time, either. It’s the third.

In the past three years, I’ve written more and been published more (even if it is “just” our work website) than I have since I started writing. This is a good thing because writing every day keeps me limber, but it also comes with some emotional and mental hiccups I’ve had to navigate. I don’t know if I’m like other writers or unlike other writers, but writing takes a lot out of me, especially when it’s a lot of short-form content about a wide variety of topics.

It felt like my heart stopped beating when I learned that one of my culinary icons, Naomi Pomeroy, died suddenly this past weekend. Naomi cared so deeply about food and her industry and how it brings people together and strengthens a community. It changed me. Her impact on food culture in Portland certainly influenced my love for the city and kept bringing me back to BEAST over and over.

I thought I was just on the lookout for cheese, what I discovered was a fierce yet tender-hearted chef, hell-bent on building up a community and feeding people physically and spiritually.

Talk to farmers and growers long enough and you’ll discover that they are passionate about what they do. You’ll also learn pretty quickly that farming is hard work – not so much the physical labor of growing things but getting people to understand the value of the product they hold in their hands.

There’s something about a dog’s love that is unlike any other. Having someone love you simply because you are you, who makes you feel like a hero and the best friend ever — it’s something to aspire to.

Like everyone else in my food-centric social media circle, I was shocked and extremely saddened this morning to hear of the death of one of my culinary heroes, Anthony Bourdain.

I'm munching on a cold carne asada burrito that I keep jabbing into a small, plastic condiment container filled with a fluorescent red/orange fermented chili sauce I picked up over two weeks ago at Mission Chinese Food in San Francisco.