The Rites of the Sanctuary

June 15, 2026 / The Black Hat Baker / 2 Comments

There are times when I walk into the winery kitchen in the morning, punch in, get to my bench, and my ritual feels a bit like rehearsing into a mirror in public. It’s for no one’s benefit but mine, and others either don’t care or pretend not to see and be curious. It’s still important because beyond the centering, grounding aspects of the act, it’s how I belong to myself.

The routine of the morning grows ignominiously but slowly. I come in, punch in, put my stuff down on the bench and decide what needs to be out and what needs to be in the locker. Going over the prep sheet and whiteboard is next. If something fucked up after I left the day before (or will fuck up without my immediate intervention,) that’s where I’ll find it. Make a plan for the day, then the coffee I’ll never drink. Check the covers for the day, then back to the office for emails on what amounts to the professional version of gossip. Very little of it has anything to do with me or requires my attention yet, and if things got really bad on the pastry station, that’s how I’ll find out.

Back to the kitchen. Temperature logs handed down by the higher-ups, then my ritual and work begins.

I put on my coat, check my tools, scale the first recipe, and consecrate what is still My Place in this world- laboratory, dojo, and sanctuary.

Animated GIF from Disney’ “The Hunchback of Notre Dame” showing Quasimodo defiantly lifting Esmeralda’s unconscious body while yelling “Sanctuary” at the city. — Not quite like that, but still an epic moment in the movie.

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A Rose’s Thorns

April 20, 2026April 20, 2026 / The Black Hat Baker / Leave a comment

The traffic on Burnside is, predictably, terrible. The two-to-four-lane road that bisects Portland between North and South has a number of signs meant to help open the way during rush hours- No Parking on the eastbound side between 7 and 9 am Monday through Friday, westbound side is no parking between 4 and 7 pm.

Signs communicate penalties, not rules. They don’t have alarm clocks attached to them, nor do hypercaffeinated parking enforcers go knocking on peoples doors at 6:50 in the morning to tell them to get their butts outside and move their cars, and they can’t possibly tow everyone… So we deal with it and some people get creative parking on the sidewalk in the driveways of shuttered businesses. A clever plan… as long as that sidewalk is not also a bus stop. Bus drivers in Portland will not hesitate to phone a make, model, and license plate into dispatch and let the might of Trimet’s pseudo-monopoly send a tow truck.

Portland- Don’t Make Us Make It A Problem, And It Won’t Be A Problem.

It’s early evening. A sunny afternoon has given way to warm gray cloud cover and a few raindrops have fallen, making the most desperate fresh-air fan wonder if it’s time to close the windows.

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The Impact Of Intent

February 7, 2026 / The Black Hat Baker / Leave a comment

I’m enjoying a local bar the way I like it- nearly empty, quiet but for the band in the next room that I’ll shortly go in to support, and just me and the bartender discussing books. They have to bus tables, I need to write and wait for my food order. It’s a genial end to the conversation.

Leikam Brewing is Jewish woman-owned brewery in Southeast Portland that embodies what I want to be myself- unapologetically and openly itself and also a hub of its community. It’s a Jewish space that’s not just for Jews. If you’re part of the community, you don’t need to be part of the Tribe.

I’ve knocked back two beers over the course of my conversation with the bartender about the virtues and flaws of various fantasy series. One was a French Toast-inspired ale called “Ain’t No Challah-Back Girl” and the other a stout called “Mob Barley.” If it’s not Jewish puns, it’s music- or both- and I’m not mad about it. Going here tonight felt needed, and not just because I knew a particularly good skewer truck was going to be selling their wares and I have an unhealthy need for their black sesame flatbread with roasted garlic toum spread.

The first month of 2026 in the US was not fantastic. An activist mother of three, Renee Good, was murdered- shot three times at point blank range- by an agent of the state who proceeded to brag about it, and the government unabashedly bullshit the public about how the woman was a “domestic terrorist” and “tried to run/ran the agent over” when their own camera shows otherwise. They did it again to a VA nurse- Alex Pretti- whose last words were “Are you okay?” to a woman these same agents had just pepper-sprayed and pushed to the pavement.

While still processing this, I got treated to reports of leftists- the guys meant to oppose this kind of fascist, Big Brother crap- lined up outside at New York synagogue chanting about how much they love Hamas. Later, I’d see tweets asking if the VA nurse was a Zionist, and I’ve grown too used to them showing up to every protest or event with their flags and keffiyehs yelling “collective liberation!” as they attempt to hijack someone else’s efforts to organize.

After over two years of feeling chased out of leftist spaces by these ignorant shmucks who are- at best- useful idiots parroting slogans, I think I’m well within my moral rights to wish a plague on both their houses, wait for both parties to beat the tar out of each other, and rebuild better once they’ve burned each other out.

It can never be that simple though. The fact that it goes against every bone in my body to look at people suffering and say “not my problem” is only part of it. It’s that I once again get to watch my identity be made convenient.

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Shadows of Loss

November 2, 2025 / The Black Hat Baker / Leave a comment

Portland is full of tannin shadows, and so are we.

It’s one of those things that you see, appreciate, but don’t know the actual word for until the memory tickles you enough to do a conversational, unspecific Google search. “What is it called when fallen leaves leave imprints on the sidewalk before they are cleared away?” The unsought-for “AI Summary” regurgitated the fact that there was no specific term, or that the term depended on whether they fell on set concrete and left an imprint or if it was set and left a stain from rotting.

As it was, the summary’s “scientific cause” description was adroit and perfect, because I am a sentimental nerd. Tannins are the compounds in leaves that, when they are wet, can leech out into the porous concrete and leave a “shadow” before the leaf itself is swept or blown away. Wine and tea snobs will also appreciate that tannins are the compounds that make their beverage of choice “dry” and crinkle the sides of the tongue, and cause the stains in a teacup. Equally poetic is the fact that consuming tannins too regularly or in high enough concentrations can cause anemia as they prevent the uptake of nutrients and minerals like iron.

For our autumnal purposes, however, “tannin shadow” is perfect because it’s the impact of a loss, left in bitterness. Fall in Portland is rainy and blustery, calling everyone to get cozy and reflect on the year, and the tannin shadows aren’t just on the sidewalk. Sitting in my sweaters and scarves, looking into my dark beers and whiskeys, and staring at patterns in pipe smoke on the back porch, I can’t help but acknowledge the legacies of losses.

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Greasing the “#Grindset”

October 19, 2025 / The Black Hat Baker / 1 Comment

The ups-and-downs of the hospitality industry are no joke. Bosses and owners use words like “feast or famine” to describe the activity between the “busy seasons” and “slow seasons.”

I came from a beach town, where “slow season” meant quiet time. It meant half the local, non-chain ice cream stands and places on the boardwalk simply shuttered from Labor Day to Easter. Kids who wanted/needed summer jobs near their parents summer homes knew they needed to have their applications and resumes in shortly after Valentines Day if they wanted an apron waiting for them by the time Mom and Dad aired out the “life’s a beach” and “Island state of mind” decor.

The winery’s busy season starts around Easter- our “dress rehearsal” for Mother’s Day Brunch- and lasts the entirety of Wedding Season (May- September) with possibly a small lull before the Holiday Party. After New Years Day, however, business goes off a cliff. Hours get cut, and employees cash out reserved PTO to fluff up their checks and pay bills. They find gig work, pursue side hustles, or even pick up per diem jobs at places with skeleton crews and sick time policies.