I’m an activities girl. I like to try things, go places, make stuff. I like play-dates and regular dates — anything that gets me off my duff and into an energy exchange with others. So when Drew and I learned of the Kinfolk table event in Santa Barbara, we draped ourselves in our autumnest attire and took my little hatchback for an ocean-front ride down the 101.
This particular event honored the release of the magazine’s cookbook, which compiled beautiful, simple recipes from 45 tastemakers into an unequivocally aesthetic bible for entertainers. It’s heavy and heartfelt.
It was also the inspiration for our little water-front gathering — every guest was asked to send in one personal or family recipe for our very own cookbook-binding activity. But before we could assemble, we mingled. We met. We let our senses explore the low lighting, full wine, new faces, old building. We found ourselves politicking with perfect strangers in a way that was so unguarded, the conversations naturally progressed into talk about family, home, art, travel, life. I found myself slapped around by the shock of it all — is this really happening? Is the woman who gardened these ghost peppers, who made this mole, these tomales, those unearthly cakes…real? Is she actually Frida Khalo?
I couldn’t believe my tastebuds. My eyes. My senses. It was a warm event from entrance to exit, from handshakes to goodbye hugs. And as for my bound book of recipes? I’ll be making one a week, starting with John and Donna’s butternut squash, pumpkin, and apple soup.
[Some photos by Fruitful Collaborations]