I’ve been in Tulsa six days now and it’s been a journey! I have a ton to share so this roundup is going to be a lot of “longer posts coming soon”, but in the meanwhile here’s what I’ve been up to this week.

I’ve been posting the fun stuff to Instagram all week (@karacooks), so head over there for the photo dump this roundup is too dignified to contain.

• I mentioned that I was in Memphis on Friday and hung out with my friend Anna. What I didn’t mention is that her son, Jake, works at the Old Dominick Distillery as a tour guide. They distill gin, vodka, and whiskey and they have a full bar and an event facility. Anna and I started our evening there and Jake and his friends behind the bar treated us to a couple of cocktails that were outstanding. I had a Suckerpunch (whiskey, lemon juice, ginger beer, and Peychaud’s bitters) and then a bartenders choice Old Fashioned (made by Rose, the bartender). If y’all ever make it to Memphis, go! The cocktail menu changes seasonally and the folks behind the bar are all awesome human beings (Rose, Bobby, Matt, and of course, Jake).
• Storms and rain pretty much the whole way from Memphis to Tulsa, which slowed me down some but didn’t make it a bad drive. Just a wet one. The Acura handled it fine and I had good podcasts.
• I have photos and thoughts about crossing the Arkansas River (multiple times). The place where the Ozark uplift meets the Arkansas River Valley is gorgeous and something that a lot of people don’t think about or appreciate when they do think about it. Arkansas and Oklahoma are often regulated to “fly over” territory and I’m here to tell you it deserves more than that.
• I stopped along the way at the Fort Smith National Historic Site, right on the state line between Arkansas and Oklahoma. Y’all, I don’t have words right now. I’m hoping I will later. The site carries so much history about the US frontier and the history of America’s treatment of Native Americans. I’ll be writing a full post later, but I need to sit with it for now.
• My first night in Tulsa, David and I crossed Tulsa’s brand-new musical road, which is a stretch of grooved pavement on the Route 66 bridge over the Arkansas River that plays Woody Guthrie’s “This Land is Your Land” when you cross it at 35 mph. Emphasis on the “at 35 mph.” We did it the first time at “David couldn’t remember what the speed was supposed to be” mph, which produced approximately three confused notes and a lot of weird noise. So we hooked an entirely-illegal u-turn and did it again at the correct speed. Reader: it works, it’s wonderful, and the travel post is going to have a lot to say about Guthrie and the Arkansas River and what it means to play that song on that bridge. For now, just know that I got a Woody Guthrie singalong through my tires while crossing a river my ancestors stole. More soon.
• Thursday I took some personal time and visited Greenwood Rising, an art and history center in the Greenwood area of Tulsa. I have thoughts and feelings about that as well, but also for a later post.
• I have no Garden Update or Reading/Watching update. I haven’t had time this weekend. The days have been full and busy and I have plans for both a travel post and a couple of specific posts about places I visited.
• Where I’m Staying: The VRBO I’m in is adorable. Probably built in the 1920s, two bedrooms, one bath, tiny living room, tiny dining room, tiny kitchen, all in proportion to itself. The owners have set up a turntable and some records, which is the kind of detail that makes a rental feel like somebody’s actual house instead of a numbered unit. David and I are planning a trip to Josey Records to pick up a few used albums to leave in the collection. Paying it forward in vinyl.
• What I’m eating: So many restaurants and so much VRBO cooking, but here are a few things that stand out:
  • El Rancho Grande, Tulsa. Tex-Mex since 1953, and it looks like it (compliment). First night with David. The PBJ Jalapeños (peppers stuffed with crunchy peanut butter, battered, fried, served with pepper jam) sound deeply weird and are deeply delicious. David got the #1 combo; I got the chile relleno, which was poblano stuffed with chicken and corn under a blanket of cheese sauce. Smoky Paloma came in a clay cup with a chili-salt rim. Full review coming once I’ve gone back for the Nighthawk and the desserts and the neon sign I forgot to photograph because I was too busy eating.
  • Notes of Marrakesh, Tulsa. Y’all. Who ever thought I’d find the best Moroccan food in the world in a tiny little restaurant in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Not only was the food amazing (Chicken tagine with preserved lemons and olives! Lamb tagine with caramelized blueberries! Mint tea! 3 kinds of cookies!), the service was impeccable. We stayed and chatted with the waiter for 20 or so minutes after our meal was over and exchanged recipes for his family’s version of collards and potatoes.
  • I made potato salad (recipe coming next Tuesday) and hamburgers at the VRBO and managed to set off the smoke alarm twice. The joys of cooking in someone else’s kitchen! But I also made shredded braised brisket over polenta with caramelized onions, which sounds fancier than it is and which is the whole point of making something in a VRBO kitchen that really impresses your cousin’s girlfriend when you invite her over for dinner.

P.S. Status report from home: Zach is alive and so are the animals. He texts me approximately once every two days to confirm this fact, usually accompanied by a photo of Remy asleep in a position that defies both anatomy and the structural integrity of the couch. The garden is, by all reports, fine. The cats remain unimpressed by my absence; Finn has apparently decided that my side of the bed is now his side of the bed. I expect a brief power struggle when I return.

P.P.S. I somehow managed to pack two right slippers. Two. Of the same foot. Standing in the VRBO bedroom on night one, holding a perfectly matched set of mirror-image right slippers like a person who has clearly lost some critical executive function, I had a moment of clarity: Remy only eats left slippers and shoes. Apparently he has trained me to keep the right ones in better shape and lose track of the lefts entirely. The pittie won this round from 800 miles away. For the record, I am wearing them anyway. I need slippers and they’re what I have.