“A day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to bloom.” – Anais Nin


This blog, like me, is a work-in-progress. An eclectically curated collection of essays, observations, and inspiration.

If there is one thing that I have learned since my husband passed away, it is that healing happens in community. Community matters. So thank you for choosing to be a part of The Kitchen Widow community.

I never set out to create an online platform intended to inspire our thinking about  the ways we help each other through difficult times. I never imagined I’d be in front of a camera (unscripted, no less) holding a platter of food and talking about the man I loved. To the contrary, I’ve always been someone who wanted to keep my private experiences of caregiving and loss separate from my public work.

Then something began to happen. The choice to not share was actually creating additional grief, the grief of not being authentic. I had a deep, growing desire to communicate what illness and loss have taught me about living. On set and at dinner parties, I was often asked about my experiences and if I had any advice for others. Privately, I began to write a memoir about life with the indelible chef who shaped and inspired my journey. Then one day, the lines of separation just disappeared.  What I told myself I couldn’t do, I had to do. To go forward, personally and creatively, I realized I needed to marry my soul’s deep desire and my professional know-how. Together, perhaps they could tell a personal story upon a large canvas. They could do it in a way that might spark conversation and be of service. Thus, the Kitchen Widow was born.

You’ll find bits of my story in the essays, observations, tips and content in this section of the site. Sometimes the inspiration will come from my life, home and garden in Los Angeles, sometimes from that arid bit of earth called Sicily – my culinary home. And while my personal loss will undoubtedly weave it’s way into what emerges here, loss is not the beginning and end point of this blog. Instead, I hope it will be about embracing a life unfolding along an unexpected path.

Lastly, I must say, everyone’s journey of caregiving or loss is personal, as different as the human beings who experience it. What works for a friend has sometimes not worked for me. Caregiving may be behind me, but I am still new to learning how to live without someone so vital in my life. I am still learning how to go forward. I only know what I have experienced thus far. I only know what other people farther down the line have been gracious enough to share with me. In that way, this blog is one widow’s every person’s story.

Peace and Light,  Tembi

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