worms for brains in june

10pm dusk, swimming in Margate, dad in the NY Times!

Jun 30, 2025

Hi from my friend’s lovely flat in Margate, a seaside town on the north Kent coast, where I’ve taken myself for a few days. Hoping to feel inspired by the salt and the silence of the place, I came intending to get words down and chip away at my dissertation.

But, god, I’ve been far too distracted by the sound of the sea lapping outside the pushed-open windows. Too intoxicated by the briny smell in the air, and the sunsets that I’ve been able to run to the balcony to catch every evening. I guess this is why writers lock themselves in remote cabins in the middle of the woods?!

Far from focused, so far from creative, my head has felt as thick as the densest fog. Even after I finally just went and dunked my ears in the tantalizing, deliciously cold sea, still I was left with a mind skipping away (just with wetter hair and a shower I couldn’t wait to take).

I shouldn’t be surprised—it’s been the throughline of my month. In June, I’ve been scatterbrained. Spending my days disassociating, daydreaming, puttering about, and then realizing somehow it’s already 8 pm.

I could blame the daylight. After enduring my first London winter, where the sky hung low and turned black by 4:30, these long days are luxurious, but a little disorienting, too. Golden shadows are no longer cues to get the cutting board out to start dinner. I head to sleep later so that I don’t feel like a child being tucked into bed when daylight is still creeping through the blinds.

I could also blame the heat. There have been a few steamy days here. Though I shouldn’t really complain—my family chat has been full of dramatic weather updates from muggy Brooklyn and sweltering Seville. No, it hasn’t quite reached those same highs here; yes, the English summer is what I was promised.

More likely, it’s the variations of collective hell we’ve all been experiencing every time we read a news headline. Most likely, it’s the joy I’ve been experiencing in my personal life. And it’s a weird dance when that happens, isn’t it? When glimmers of pure, easy goodness start to flicker amidst a world that is crumbling and boiling and aching? It causes a chaotic swirl of feelings, I’ll say that—of guilt and fear, hope and perspective.

I could gear myself up to untangle all that’s sitting on my chest and demanding my attention. Get into what it’s like to see the terrifying things lurking outside the door, but not want to touch it, because there’s an offering of safety and comfort inside. But I don’t have the energy—the sentences I’ve just written are all I’ve got. Heat wave or not, in summer, the narrative, the focus, it all goes out the window. I’ve written this before; in summer, you feel what you feel, and you call it a day.

As for July, I know there will be more restless heat, and more respite found in cool water. The grass will begin to dry out in the sun, turning patchy and brown. And the fruit will ripen on the windowsill, just waiting to be eaten over the sink.

I suspect that my mind will continue to zip a million miles at once. I’ll be paralyzed by the amount of suffering happening all around. And I’ll forget about it all for an hour or two, because of the shock of remembering how nice it feels to be touched. I’ll just be moving the fan even closer, wearing fewer layers, and watching my skin turn in the sun. But I guess we’ll see.

ICYMI—

The first half of May in Review.
The second half of May, via NYC-Return Recap. Bagels! Feelings!

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Everything I’ve Cooked

Soups, Salads, and Sides

Sliced radish, Bramley apple, and dill, tossed in olive oil and lemon juice, served on seedy crackers for lunch.
Asparagus drizzled with olive oil and Trader Joe’s Green Goddess Seasoning Blend; 400 degrees for 10 minutes, topped w/ a green onion salsa.
Wasabi greens (my favorite June farmer’s market item), sprinkled on absolutely everything. Avocados, toasts, eggs, in salads!

Proteins, Pastas, and Mains

Spinach Artichoke Pasta with Breadcrumbs, inspired by a recipe from Hailee Catalano’s new cookbook.
Ali Slagle’s skillet salmon with soy-butter tomatoes.
Super Citrusy Marinated Chicken Breasts, sliced and added to broccoli salads with edamame. Mmmmm.
Spicy Carrot Rigatoni, with a carrot-top herby green sauce, also from Hailee!
A lot of weeknight salmon fillets coated in Trader Joe’s Salmon Rub, either seared in a cold pan or slowly oven-roasted. Served with quick-pickled cucumbers and ginger-grated white rice.
Always, Oven-Roasted Chicken Shawarma.

Sweets, Brekkies, and Baked Bites

A humble return to soft, fluffy tortillas for breakfast—with egg scrambles, avocado, fried eggs, hot sauce, whatever.
Buckwheat Banana Bread.

Everything I’ve Ordered

A super filling lemongrass chicken and rice plate from Green Papaya, served with a delicious peanut sauce on the side.
A cozy end table at Lucky and Joy, where the stars of the show were the turnip cake, the peanut noodles, and the whole roasted sea bream.
A bag of paprika potato chips, and a nice and toasty Veggie and Hummus Sandwich to-go from Superette. Eaten in the grass of Parliament Hill.
A crispy, piping-hot chicken, avocado, mayo, and cheddar arepa from Arepa & Co, right on the Canal.
A tasty falafel wrap from Dom’s Place, the Turkish place near my flat. And an unreal falafel sandwich on za’atar naan from Babaan’s Naan, a place that I willlll be returning to.
A glass of verdejo and a cheese board for two (smoked goat cheese, manchego, baguette, pickles, sweet jam), seated outside at Gordon’s, the famous wine cellar EST. 1890.
Two decent corn tacos from TAKO, but a great Asian slaw salad to start.
Iced coffee and a muffin that, 5 minutes later, got plucked from my fingertips by maniacal, angry seagulls (both from Big Shot in Margate).
Forts Cafe in Margate, for a lunch plate of scrambled eggs, fennel sausage, and a super light and bright pesto-ish spread. Followed by a tiny kid’s cup of vegan chocolate ice cream with Biscoff crumbs from Follow the Swirl.
Torched mackerel with romesco and buttered sourdough from Dory’s, a seafood bar right on the shore.
An absolutely heavenly 5-pound glass of cold wine— Sète’s Apéro Hour rocks.
And a glorious train home sandwich from Picnic Deli. Chicken Caesar, covered with garlicky breadcrumbs, on sliced, salted, focaccia.

Everything Else

I celebrated Father’s Day by submitting my wonderful father, who has always known exactly what to say, to the New York Times. And it was accepted :) Love you, Dad. So very much.
And speaking of NYT/Dad! A must-read for your month: A.I. Is Starting to Wear Down Democracy. The piece shouts out the International Panel on the Information Environment, an organization my dad has led since 2023, that is doing extremely topical, critical work to combat misinformation.
Fiddler on the Roof will always be one of my very favorite shows. I saw it this month at the Barbican, and this production of it did not disappoint. Laughed, cried, etc. If you can see it before it leaves the space, go!
The Turner Contemporary Art Gallery in Margate is free and a must, just for the space alone. And in London, if you haven’t been to Sir John Soane’s Museum, it is full of treasures, also free, and you need to see it.
Two pairs of surprisingly comfy Target Eva-Dupes for $10 each, purchased when I was in the States. And another affordable find (especially for my fellow shorties)—two pairs of these M&S Linen Pants.
Haim covering Addison Rae. Haim grinding on all our Internet crushes. My annual summer playlist collab with Laura. And of course, LORDE making me GROOVE.
Stillborn by Guadalupe Nettle. I adored this month’s book club pick, not just because it was easy to tear through, but because of the pub convo it inspired. Birth control! Pregnancy! Motherhood! Life! Death!
My Brain Finally Broke by Jia Tolentino. Sorrow and Bliss by Meg Mason.
I am selfishly very excited about the trailer for Lena Dunham’s new NYC-to-London (!) tale coming to Netflix in July.
And sorry. Leaving you with this Timothée Chalamet compilation video with a click-baity title.