Kate Goodall
More ideas from Kate
Tucked into the Flatiron district, Kat & Theo, led by executive chef David Fisher—a semi-finalist in the 2016 San Pellegrino Young Chefs competition–creates simple, produce-driven dishes like his lamb tongue pastrami with house-made stout mustard and house rye bread. With an exposed brick-lined front bar (and Eiffel Tower-esque metal trellis), open kitchen, and back dining room warmed by a romantic stone fireplace, this is one restaurant where sitting on the same side of the booth won't be…

Tucked into the Flatiron district, Kat & Theo, led by executive chef David Fisher—a semi-finalist in the 2016 San Pellegrino Young Chefs competition–creates simple, produce-driven dishes like his lamb tongue pastrami with house-made stout mustard and house rye bread. With an exposed brick-lined front bar (and Eiffel Tower-esque metal trellis), open kitchen, and back dining room warmed by a romantic stone fireplace, this is one restaurant where sitting on the same side of the booth won't be…

Purl Soho at 459 Broome Street in Soho, New York City. I mean, drool. I can't even deal with myself in this store. Everything feels buttery soft, the color organization is brilliant, and every time I go I spend money I don't have because I just can't help myself. They get major points for display efforts. They in-house yarns are pretty amazing, too.

Purl Soho at 459 Broome Street in Soho, New York City. I mean, drool. I can't even deal with myself in this store. Everything feels buttery soft, the color organization is brilliant, and every time I go I spend money I don't have because I just can't help myself. They get major points for display efforts. They in-house yarns are pretty amazing, too.

I wish I could shout it from the rooftops that this poem is NOT by Ernest Hemingway! It's a poem that I wrote a little over a year ago and yet it still gets circulated under the wrong name. I'm humbled that people think this could belong to Hemingway, but a little irritated at the same time that I can do nothing about the miscredit.

I wish I could shout it from the rooftops that this poem is NOT by Ernest Hemingway! It's a poem that I wrote a little over a year ago and yet it still gets circulated under the wrong name. I'm humbled that people think this could belong to Hemingway, but a little irritated at the same time that I can do nothing about the miscredit.