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For Clockshop’s Kite Festival, build a newspaper kite using The Times’ Weekend section

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For Clockshop’s Kite Festival, build a newspaper kite using The Times’ Weekend section

After more than two decades working as a journalist, I’ve heard a lot of ways that people reuse their newspapers: lining a pet’s cage or litter box; cleaning a grill; shoving several pages into sneakers to help them dry after they get soaked during a hike with creek crossings.

I am a big advocate of repurposing items to keep them out of the landfill, and yet, I have never felt like any of these reuses celebrates the print medium for what it can provide beyond information.

That’s one reason I wanted The Times to publish a kite design in the Weekend section in coordination with the staff at Clockshop, a local community arts nonprofit, just in time for its annual kite festival, which is from 2 to 6 p.m. Saturday at Los Angeles State Historic Park, 1245 N. Spring St.

And now here’s your chance to make one.

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In Sunday’s newspaper, you’ll find a colorful trapezoid kite along with printed instructions on how to build the kite as well as a QR code that links to a video of our team showing you how to build it. Regardless of whether you attend the kite festival, this edition of the Weekend section deserves to fly far beyond the confines of your recycling bin.

You can buy a copy of the Sunday newspaper at local newsstands and most 7-Eleven, Ralphs, Albertsons, Vons, Circle K and CVS locations.

If you aren’t able to snag a print newspaper, we’ve also included a digital download where you can print a version of our kite design. The instructions are also below.

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Skip to instructions for:

Kite using newspaper | Kite using digital version

The look of our kite was designed by L.A. artist Ben Sanders, who said he drew inspiration from our local landscape.

“I kind of wanted it to look like gusts of wind,” said Sanders, who hadn’t previously illustrated a kite design, “and I was thinking about wind gusts on the beach and pink sunsets and the shoreline and … maybe a sun that’s being refracted.”

I have so many memories of flying kites, but I must admit: Several of them aren’t great. What’s more disappointing as a little kid than running outside with a kite in your arms, anticipating your moment of glory, only to watch it crash repeatedly?

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I asked Yaeun Stevie Choi, an L.A.-based artist and kite maker, what some common reasons kites fail were.

“This is where the physics part of kites comes in,” they said. “Generally speaking, there are essential ingredients of how a kite flies, so if you don’t have those, perhaps it will fail.”

For example, kites need to be designed symmetrically to successfully catch the wind, which is often blowing horizontally, Choi said, adding that sometimes people don’t attach a kite’s tail properly, not realizing the tail helps the kite orient itself. Or the kite maker might have attached the string in a way that inhibits the kite’s ability to catch air pressure and rise.

A paper kite in front of a colorful background

The kite that readers can build using The Times’ Weekend section.

(Kayla Bartkowski / Los Angeles Times)

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And sometimes the ratio is just off. The area of the sail (in our case, the trapezoid shape in our newspaper) to the weight of the spars (the frame or rigid sticks that allow the kite to hold its shape) really matters. Heavier spars require a larger sail while people who build miniature kites sometimes don’t include a spar or will only use half a toothpick, Choi said.

Choi estimated that around six of their first kites failed. I asked them how someone can get over the embarrassment they might feel when their kite just doesn’t fly.

Choi produced a mischievous grin. “You wear a mask, like a monster mask [or] your favorite animal,” they said. “So you wear a penguin mask, so [onlookers] are like, ‘Oh, the penguin made a failing kite.’ They won’t be like, ‘Oh, a person embarrassed themselves.’”

In all seriousness, building and flying a kite is an opportunity to embrace a challenge rather than view a difficult task in binary terms, a point Choi and I discussed.

I also asked Sue Bell Yank, Clockshop’s executive director, how the kite festival began.

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The organization wanted to celebrate the open sky above L.A. State Historic Park and reclaim what could be taken if the controversial electric aerial gondola system, first proposed in 2018 by a company funded by former Dodgers owner Frank McCourt, were built, as it would take passengers over the park on its way to Dodger Stadium.

Over the years, the festival has evolved into a celebration of the artistry of kite-making, although Clockshop still views it as a “joyful protest” that brings communities together on public lands, Yank said.

“There’s a sense of freedom in connecting yourself to the ground and the air and with the wind,” Yank said. “You’re working in concert with nature to get this kite off the ground.”

That’s the spirit that my colleagues and I had when we started this process.

The staff at Clockshop gave us a few kite designs they suggested we consider. Then Faith Stafford, a senior deputy design director, worked diligently to re-create one design out of newspaper. And because we’re journalists, we tested it since printing thousands of copies of a design that doesn’t work would require a historic and embarrassing correction none of us would fully recover from.

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I procured kitchen twine from The Times’ Kitchen manager Luciana Momesso, and three of us — Stafford, deputy features editor Marques Harper and I — headed to The Times’ parking garage at our El Segundo office.

At the top of the garage, we asked one another: “Do you know how to fly a kite?” It was immediately clear we’d focused intensely on every detail of our kite-making process but that.

We wandered around the parking lot until we found the breeziest spot, although I was also Googling “How to fly a kite successfully.” Stafford bravely let our first newspaper prototype go, and there was a collective sigh of relief and joyous exclamation when our kite flew.

At the annual kite festival, The Times will have a booth where you can talk with us about our kite and snag a copy of the Weekend section that includes the kite design (while supplies last).

I am so eager to see our newspaper used in a tactical, whimsical way — a reuse option that’s been there all along.

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How to build the L.A. Times kite (newspaper version)

Materials needed

  • One May 3 edition of the L.A. Times’ Weekend section
  • Two 17¼-inch bamboo spars, commonly found at grocery or gardening stores* (see notes)
  • Kite line made of kitchen twine** and a winder***
  • Scissors
  • Transparent tape

1. Using your cellphone, take photos of the newspaper kite design on the L1 cover and on pages L6-7 and L10 before you start cutting so you have a reference point.

2. Now you’re ready to build our kite. First, leaving them in one large piece, cut out the trapezoid-shaped kite sail and the two thin triangles on these pages.

3. Cut out the trapezoidal vent in the middle of the sail, as indicated, and discard.

4. If you correctly followed Step 2 and left the kite sail and two triangles together in one large piece, skip to Step 6. If you mistakenly cut the triangles from the sail, follow this step: Tape the two triangular sections to the bottom of the sail, taping the base of the triangles (non-pointy ends) to the sail on both sides. You want the straight side of each triangle to face outward while both triangles’ angled sides face inward toward each other. (See images from your phone for reference.)

5. Now you’re ready to cut out and connect the strips to make the kite tail:

  • Using the arrows as your guide, cut the portion below into six long strips. Make note of the letters on each end.
  • Applying tape to both sides, tape A to A, B to B, C to C, etc., then tape all the strips until you have one long strip that starts and ends on yellow like the line below. The colors will match at each seam as the diagram below shows.
A diagram of a gradient strip for kite tail.

6. On the undecorated back side of the sail, tape the spars in place, as shown below.

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A diagram of a kite.

7. Get the tail pieces you cut and assembled during Step 5. You will tape each end of the tail to where it matches the width of the triangular sections to make a connected long loop.

A diagram of a kite with a tail.

8. Turn the kite over so the front (decorated) side faces up. Tie your kite line securely around the spars, where they cross in the middle of the vent. Use two overhand (shoelace-style) knots.

A diagram of a colorful finished kite.

9. If using a homemade winder,*** consider gluing or taping the string to the winder so that your string stays connected if you happen to use all of your string to fly the kite.

Notes:

* We tested our kite with bamboo spars, but if you don’t have those around your home, you could also try taping wooden coffee stirrers or other thin, lightweight wooden objects — although bamboo chopsticks might be too heavy. Some kitemakers have success with straws, but straws typically work better with diamond-shaped kites. A final option would be old wire hangers, but that could require a longer tail.

** We used kitchen twine, but other options are crochet thread as long as it isn’t too thick, or fishing line, although it can be difficult to see and tangles easily. You can also find string options at your local craft store. You want to have between 50 to 100 feet of string for the kite.

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*** We tested our kite without a winder, but you can make one out of many household objects, including an empty toilet paper roll, a small, sturdy piece of cardboard or anything else around your home that will help you keep from tangling your line.

How to build the L.A. Times kite (digital version)

Materials needed

  • One L.A. Times kite pattern printed on two 11-by-17-inch sheets of 20- to 24-pound paper* see notes
  • Two 17¼-inch bamboo spars, commonly found at grocery or gardening stores** (see notes)
  • Kite line made of kitchen twine** and a winder***
  • Scissors
  • Transparent tape

1. Print the pattern, ensuring the design is set to print on 11-by-17-inch (tabloid) size paper at 100% to scale. The design might not print correctly if your printer settings are set to “fit to page,” “fit to paper” or “fit to printable area.”

2. Cut out the trapezoid shape (your kite’s sail) on page 1 and the two triangular segments on the right and left side of the trapezoid shape.

3. Tape the two triangular sections to the bottom of the sail, taping the base of the triangles (non-pointy ends) to the sail on both sides. You want the straight side of each triangle to face outward while both triangles’ angled sides face inward toward each other (see below).

A kite diagram.

4. Cut the white space out of the middle of the trapezoid. This will be your kite’s vent. You don’t need this small white piece for your kite.

5. Now you’re ready to cut out and connect the strips (page 2) to make the kite tail:

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  • Using the arrows as your guide, cut the portion below into six long strips. Make note of the letters on each end.
  • Applying tape to both sides, tape A to A, B to B, C to C, etc., then tape all the strips until you have one long strip that starts and ends on yellow like the line below. The colors will match at each seam as the diagram below shows.
A diagram of a gradient strip for kite tail.

6. On the undecorated back side of the sail, tape the spars in place, as shown below.

A diagram of a kite.

7. Get the tail pieces you cut and assembled during Step 5. You will tape each end of the tail to where it matches the width of the triangular sections to make a connected long loop.

A diagram of a kite with a tail.

8. Turn the kite over so the front (decorated) side faces up. Tie your kite line securely around the spars, where they cross in the middle of the vent. Use two overhand (shoelace-style) knots.

A kite with orange suns wrapped in blue swirls with pops of pink, yellow and green, with string attached.

9. If using a homemade winder,*** consider gluing or taping the string to the winder so that your string stays connected if you happen to use all of your string to fly the kite.

10. Go have fun!

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Notes:

* We recommend printing your design on an 11-by-17-inch, 20- or 24-pound piece of durable paper, like bond paper.

** We tested our kite with bamboo spars, but if you don’t have those around your home, you could also try taping wooden coffee stirrers or other thin, lightweight wooden objects — although bamboo chopsticks might be too heavy. Some kitemakers have success with straws, but straws typically work better with diamond-shaped kites.

*** We used kitchen twine, but other options are crochet thread as long as it isn’t too thick, or fishing line, although it can be difficult to see and tangles easily. You can also find string options at your local craft store. You want to have around 50 feet of string for the kite.

**** We tested our kite without a winder, but you can make one out of many household objects, including an empty toilet paper roll, a small, sturdy piece of cardboard or anything else around your home that will help you keep from tangling your line.

Sources: The Drachen Foundation; Trépanier Trapezoid kite design by Québec-based artist Robert Trépanier

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Lifestyle

The Pratt Students Patching Pants in a Brooklyn Mending Circle

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The Pratt Students Patching Pants in a Brooklyn Mending Circle

Aria Hannah sat in a second-floor studio at Pratt Institute in Brooklyn, surrounded by garments that had seen better days. There were jeans with crotch holes and a T-shirt that was disintegrating at the collar. A pair of polka-dot socks were practically begging to be darned.

“A moth hole is such a beautiful thing to have,” said Hannah, 20, a junior studying fashion design. “It’s just an opportunity for something new.”

She and the dozen or so other students in the room make up Pratt’s Mending Circle, a group of young people that convenes twice a month to sip bergamot tea and reinforce pocket linings. For a little over a year, its members have brought well-worn clothes from their closets — and sometimes their classmates’, too — and stitched them back into circulation.

Hannah used a needle and thread to close up a hole in the navy blue wool coat she had been wearing all winter. She was next to Gianna Breinig, 21, the club’s president, who pinned a patch of cobalt fabric to a threadbare section of a friend’s pants. (In return, he had promised her a free tattoo.)

“I love being able to help people repair things that otherwise maybe they’d just throw out,” said Breinig, a junior from Gilbert, Ariz. “Like, let me show you how to fix that.”

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Sewing circles have existed for generations, including groups organized through local churches in the 19th century, Abolitionist sewing circles and those that sprang up in response to textile-rationing efforts in World War II. But mending skills have experienced a modest resurgence in recent years, and sewing and other hands-on hobbies are taking off among some members of Gen Z.

The mending circle at Pratt draws mostly fashion design students who treat each distressed T-shirt as a creative prompt: How might a frayed hem be transformed with eye-catching embroidery?

The club grew out of a series of meet-ups organized by Brooke Garner, 36, an assistant professor of fashion design at Pratt. She hoped to offer an environment in which students could decompress while working on clothing that had nothing to do with their schoolwork.

“I see it so clearly as an act of resistance against all these negative forces that we’re up against, whether it’s consumerist fast fashion or just this pressure to always be producing and making something new,” Garner said.

She gathered skeins of yarn, spools of thread, embroidery hoops and old T-shirts to use as fabric scraps. (Many supplies came from a neighborhood “Buy Nothing” group on Facebook.) Only two or three students showed up at first, but eventually, word of the mending circle spread. “Everybody has a pile of clothes that need to be repaired, right?” Garner said.

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During a mending session in late April, Garner put on a playlist of gentle piano music. Students filed in, chatting about the projects they needed to get done before the end of the semester.

Jacob Jenkins, 20, said he saw clothing repair as a practical necessity for his generation. “I think we’re at a time where we can’t buy new clothes — we don’t have the money,” he said. He had big plans to embroider the canvas of a pair of worn-out Converse.

Theo Goldman, 21, cut a laundry bag into patches that he was stitching to a pair of jeans. He is a fan of sashiko, a Japanese form of needlework that is both decorative and fortifying. With the technique, a piece of clothing “can be even stronger than it used to be,” he said.

When students wanted a break, they added embellishment to a fabric quilt that belongs to the whole group. Auguste DuBois, 22, wove a blue-and-green cord with a two-pronged tool called a lucet. Camila Terreros, 21, repaired a hole in the pocket of her bomber jacket.

Elena Scherer, 20, knitted the sleeve of a cardigan from a lightweight Icelandic wool. What did she think was drawing people her age to mending?

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“Honestly, there could be a deeper answer about climate change or whatever, but I think people think that it looks cool,” Scherer said. Visible mending techniques create clothes that are not just newly wearable, she added, they are one of a kind.

Most of the group’s regulars said their mending skills had come a long way since they started showing up. Their work did not always come out looking perfect, but perfection was not the point, said Alma Rosado, 22, who wore a pair of her father’s pants that she had repaired herself.

“I’ve learned more techniques,” she said, “but also more patience.”

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The Head-Turning Hats of the 2026 Kentucky Derby

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The Head-Turning Hats of the 2026 Kentucky Derby

Hats? The Kentucky Derby had a few.

In the hours leading up to America’s most famous horse race, spectators in Louisville engaged in the event’s other time-honored tradition (apart from day drinking): parading around Churchill Downs in attention-grabbing outfits.

But it wasn’t just hats — fascinators, fedoras, bowlers, boaters, flowers and feathers (so many feathers) — that caught the eye. There were equine-inflected accessories too: purses, patterns, jackets, brooches and at least one vest.

A wild ride, as always.

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Their love blossomed in the buzzy L.A. restaurant scene. So what was their wedding food?

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Their love blossomed in the buzzy L.A. restaurant scene. So what was their wedding food?

It wasn’t love at first anything for Anna Sonenshein when she met Niki Vahle while working at Son of a Gun in 2018. Rather, it started with a feud.

Sonenshein worked as a host, Vahle as a sous chef. She mostly ignored him.

“I was fed up with the kitchen thinking they were better than front-of-house,” she told me, on speakerphone, from the home they now share. “It’s such a common thing in restaurants, and I hate it.”

But, like all good star-crossed stories, the pair fell in love.

“And I beat all that out of Niki,” Sonenshein said.

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“She did,” he called from a distance, as he wrangled one of their two dogs, Chicken. “We don’t tolerate any of that now in our restaurant.”

The restaurant in question is the Michelin Guide-inducted Little Fish, which the couple started as a pop-up out of their kitchen window in 2020 and has expanded to two locations: Echo Park and Melrose Hill.

With Little Fish, Sonenshein and Vahle unapologetically mix business, pleasure, family, friendship and food.

Friend of the couple, Hannah Ziskin of Quarter Sheets, made multiple cakes, including a “chef-y” combination of rhubarb with pistachio chiffon and mascarpone custard infused with orange peel, and her classic olive oil chiffon with fresh passionfruit and bay leaf-infused custard. The dog figurine, right, is modeled after the couple’s pets, Chicken and Hank.

(Madelyn Deutch)

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It makes sense, then, that their biggest partnership to date — an April 18 wedding — would be a food-first, ceremony-second affair. About 120 guests sardined into the modest backyard of Sonenshein’s Santa Monica childhood home, with a veritable who’s who of the L.A. restaurant scene doing double duty as attendees and vendors.

As the teams behind Mariscos Jaliscos and El Ruso set up trucks out front, Aaron Lindell and Hannah Ziskin of Quarter Sheets conversation-hopped, and Kae Whalen, the L.A. darling wine Substacker (who also runs Little Fish’s wine program), snaked through the crowd with her pint-sized pomeranian under one arm.

In this dark era for L.A. restaurants, where economic fears, fires and ICE have led to countless closures, Sonenshein and Vahle have made a point of building community among restaurant workers and collaborators.

A bride and groom hug on a backyard patio.

Niki Vahle and Anna Sonenshein, owners of Little Fish, embrace during their backyard wedding.

(Madelyn Deutch)

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“When we were starting our businesses, none of us had any knowledge of the back-end stuff,” Ziskin told me. “We figured it out together.”

She and Lindell turned their Quarter Sheets pop-up into a brick-and-mortar in 2022. Little Fish followed the same trajectory a few months later.

“Niki and Anna will answer any question I have,” Ziskin said. “We talk business, money. It’s so rare to have that: friends in the same position who deeply understand what you do.”

Vahle and Sonenshein refer to their friends who also started food businesses during the pandemic as “our class.”

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“We’re peers, not competition,” Vahle said. “We share notes; we share everything.”

In January 2025, when the Palisades and Eaton fires ripped through the city, these friends were the ones Sonenshein and Vahle called first as they created a network of almost 200 restaurants to source, cook and deliver meals to displaced families and first responders.

Wedding guests check out what's on offer at the grazing table.
Wedding guests enjoy the grazing table and cake.

Wedding guests enjoy the grazing table and cake. (Madelyn Deutch)

Catalina Flores, of Panhead LA, curated the abundant grazing table.

Catalina Flores, of Panhead LA, curated the abundant grazing table.

(Madelyn Deutch)

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As the party waited for Sonenshein and Vahle to appear, guests sipped his and hers wine selections by Whalen: a Domaine Derain “Landre” 2023 for Vahle (“A Niki wine reminds us that beauty, precision and transcendence are possible”), and a Le Mazel “Couvée Paulou” 2024 for Sonenshein (“An Anna wine is often fruity, vibrant, easy to adore and adores easily”).

Meanwhile, like any good father of the bride, Raphe Sonenshein held court at the grazing table, encouraging anyone in earshot to pile plates with charcuterie, taralli and gildas curated by Catalina Flores (Panhead LA) and Ryan Vesper (Gourmet Imports).

The mother of the bride, Phyllis Amaral, shepherded family members to a handful of front-row folding chairs. Everyone else would spend the night standing, balancing plates and, inevitably, spilling some wine.

“Very creative wedding,” said one friend of the family.

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A crowd of people smile and chat in a backyard decorated with marigold garlands.

The low-key backyard wedding took place at the bride’s childhood home. Her sister, Julia Sonenshein, left, and mother, Phyllis Amaral, wore red.

(Madelyn Deutch)

The couple made their entrance — arm in arm — with Sonenshein in a tea-length, corseted gown and Vahle in a bespoke suit the shade of a Liguria olive.

During their vows, Sonenshein joked that marriage isn’t so scary when you already share six LLCs.

Then, they sealed their newest contract with a kiss.

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The applause had barely subsided before a collective hunger took over.

People in wedding attire stand in front of a white food truck.

Mariscos Jalisco served shrimp tacos, a nod to the couple’s own restaurant, Little Fish.

(Madelyn Deutch)

Mariscos Jalisco sent out trays of shrimp tacos — a nod to the couple’s seafood origin story — but guests still beelined for the truck, forming a line down the block.

Next door at El Ruso, owner Walter Soto chopped carne asada while his wife, Julia, took orders: two chile colorado; three birria; no onions, please. Their preteen daughter, Suri, played in the front seat of the truck.

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“For us, it was something very special to know that we were going to serve food on such a special day to someone so special to us,” Soto said. “I remember seeing Niki several times eating at our food truck during the difficult times of ICE raids. [Then] we had to close our truck for three or four months. Anna and Niki came to my house with a check to help us endure that really bad time. That’s how we met them.”

A woman carries a taco on a plate in one hand and two beer bottles in another.

El Ruso tacos rounded out the menu. Owner Walter Soto said he was honored to serve food at the wedding after the bride and groom supported his business during the ICE raids that dampened his sales.

(Madelyn Deutch)

As for the cake, try two. Both by Ziskin.

“I would have been offended if they hadn’t asked me,” she said.

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The first was a Quarter Sheets menu classic: olive oil chiffon with fresh passionfruit and bay leaf-infused custard. Ziskin also created what she calls a “chef-y” combination: rhubarb with pistachio chiffon and mascarpone custard infused with orange peel.

A bride in a veil and tea-length dress mingles with guests near the El Ruso taco truck.

Bride Anna Sonenshein mingles with guests near the El Ruso taco truck.

(Madelyn Deutch)

Before moving the afterparty to Santa Monica’s Not No Bar (co-owner Conner Mitchell is also one of Little Fish’s fishermen), the music cut briefly for speeches.

Julia Sonenshein, the bride’s sister and a sometimes food writer, admitted that she couldn’t separate their love story from a shared love of cooking.

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“For these two, the idea that anyone would go without food, whether it’s friends who’ve stopped by for a coffee table meal or families who lost their kitchens in wildfires, is an unconscionable possibility they won’t accept,” she said. “And so they find a way to make sure all of us are fed.”

And what about Sonenshein and Vahle — did someone remind them to eat?

Vahle didn’t hesitate. “How could we forget?”

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