Salt, Ink, & Soul

Writing on food, family, and identity

“I write so that our food, our struggles, and our stories are never forgotten, but carried forward as legacy.”

Felix the Fox Collection

Gentle adventures from the Whispering Woods — stories of courage, friendship, and resilience for children, and for the adults who read beside them.

Latest Post

  • Hot air balloons floating across a clear blue morning sky in Albuquerque, New Mexico.

    You Know Fall Is Coming When the Balloons Go Up

    I grew up in the Midwest, where changing leaves announced the arrival of fall. New Mexico taught me to recognize a different set of signs: cooler mornings, the smell of green chile roasting, and hot air balloons drifting across the sky. Somewhere along the way, those unfamiliar rituals began to feel like my own.

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  • Homemade 10-inch deep-dish pizza with grilled onions, mushrooms, and melted mozzarella cheese.

    Deep-Dish Grilled Onions & Mushroom Pizza 

    Some meals are better when we don’t rush them. This 10-inch deep-dish pizza begins with a well-seasoned dough left to develop overnight, then gets layered with freshly shredded mozzarella, grilled onions and mushrooms, and rich tomato sauce. Homemade pizza, made slowly and on purpose.

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  • Interior of Hotel Blackhawk in Davenport, Iowa, with its marble staircase illuminated by morning sunlight.

    I Chose the Better Room

    I chose the better room on purpose. Not because I needed it, but because I could responsibly afford to be comfortable. That small decision made me wonder how long the lessons of scarcity continue making choices for us after our circumstances have changed.

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  • A small, slightly bent flower growing partly beneath a human shadow while reaching toward warm sunlight.

    The Foot and the Flower

    What happens when criticism, ridicule, and public embarrassment are presented as love? Through the image of a flower repeatedly stepped on and then blamed for failing to bloom, this essay examines inherited wounds, Black masculinity, and the difference between helping someone grow and demanding that they survive being crushed.

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  • A warm writing desk with an open journal and the words A Small Thank You — Salt, Ink & Soul.

    A Small Thank You

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  • A Black man standing beneath a streetlight and looking toward another person across a quiet divide.

    When Did We Stop Believing Each Other?

    Trust rarely disappears all at once. It leaves through broken promises, institutional betrayals, manufactured images, and the suspicion that everyone has an angle. But perhaps trust can return the same way it was lost: one small act at a time.

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