IT’S A START –
Jan. 1, 2026 – “When I moved to the California coast for college, my mom lost a reason to cook, and I gained a penchant for beer and cocaine. I used to joke that they were my two favorite foods. After college I moved to New Orleans I was supposed to become a teacher but instead became a cook. I worked in restaurants there for a couple of years before eventually moving to New York City to hone the art of working the line. I usually shoved down my only meal of the day in the late afternoon during family meal. I developed a preference for grease and salt—foods that soaked up the booze in my gut left over from the night before. After work, I slugged tallboys of Miller High Life and chain-smoked until I fell into a dreamless paralysis, only to wake up in a groggy sweat and do it all over again.
I was railing against the healthy food my mother set in front of me as a kid. I was living by the advice of Anthony Bourdain: “Your body is not a temple, it’s an amusement park.” I was enjoying the ride, and I was invincible. Until I wasn’t.
At my bottom, I was very overweight. I stood on a roof on the Lower East Side of Manhattan, out of beer and cocaine, watching the sunrise. It was beautiful, but I couldn’t enjoy it through the shame and guilt that was dissolving me into a familiar hangover.
