Crying on Ludlow. Eating hot fried chicken in Nashville. And cooking for some of the most influential chefs in America.

Sometimes, I think you think you know what you want and then it’s up to you to go out and make it happen. So... America happened.

Four weeks ago, I left my corporate creative job (I know what an oxymoron) as a food stylist. People at work call it "corporate soul-draining," but honestly, it was a breather for me. A bit of stability after the chaos of the pandemic. Money was steady, I had a routine and I could style food in my sleep. But maybe that became the problem.

There was only so far I could go. I hit a ceiling. I was having fun, sure—but it all started to feel flat. Every few months, colleagues would ask, "Why are you here, you could do so much better?" I made it look easy and I guess that made it harder to explain. You can’t just say: Bro, I’m depressed. Or: I didn’t want to feel like I was constantly in a storm.

I just wanted ease. I wanted calm. I craved those 9-to-3 yummy mummy hours, styling food, eating whatever I wanted on a weekday. A soft life. It felt like catching my breath.

But now I wanted a challenge, a big food city, new people. I wanted to be thrown back into the thick of it. Could I do it?

Cooking in Houston

For those who don’t know, I run a pop-up called Roti Mami—something I started taking more seriously around this time last year. It began as a fun outlet and quickly grew into something more meaningful. I was doing monthly pop-ups, just enjoying the ride and by the end of the year, it was gaining real traction.

After a trip to India and Bangladesh, I came back changed. A conversation with my workplace forced a decision: get another job or give this thing I love my full attention. So that’s exactly what I did. I took a bet on myself.

Roti Mami is a modern Bengali pop-up—playful, bold, but deeply rooted in culture and community. I decided to take it on tour around America: New York, Houston and Nashville. It was unforgettable, and I’m sorry if you didn’t catch it on stories because the trip was amazing!

Every moment was a lesson. I picked up so much from logistics to storytelling to connection. I was away just over three weeks and ran nine events. Exhausting, but fulfilling.

New York was a highlight for sure. The city embraced Roti Mami—both the concept and the food. I did casual setups in wine bars and cafés and a bougie dinner with The Sewing Tin that sold out in eight minutes. $200 tickets. That blew me away.

It made me realise how flexible the concept is so I’ve split it into two: Roti Mami Casual and Roti Mami Fancy. It keeps things fun and gives me room to explore.

Beyond the food, being back in New York meant reconnecting with old friends—this time feeling genuinely fulfilled. That hit different.

I was dealing with some heavy personal stuff before the trip. Landing in New York and feeling surrounded by love was the emotional cushion I needed. During the trip, I didn’t have time to reflect, I was just in motion. A friend asked, “Did you feel it? Did you process how incredible all of this has been?” The truth is, not really. I’m still catching up to it.

Only now, back in Berlin, do I have space to sit with it. One conversation—literally the day I got back (yesterday)—offered so much clarity. About how I think, how I move and who I am.

This trip made it clear how important it is to be intentional about who you let in. The wrong person can derail you. And life’s too short to be tangled in drama when you’re building something that matters. And for me, the cost was real. Financially, it shifted my plans completely. Emotionally, it made everything so much heavier and traumatic. I felt isolated and I couldn’t even check out—I was the business. I had to keep going.

I’m not even a crier. But in those early days in New York, crying on Ludlow Street? It feels surreal now. But sometimes the universe cracks you open so things can fall into place, I guess. And they did. It was like night and day.. Things got so much better.

One of the wildest moments? Cooking for Chef Kwame—one of the most influential chefs in America. He had literally cooked for the Met Gala just 2 days before. He came to my final Houston pop-up, stayed at the same place as me and everything about it just felt aligned. Sharing my food—rooted in my heritage—with someone like him, and having him get it, meant everything. He hugged me and said, “Yeah, the food was delicious, thank you so much.” That stayed with me.

Then there was a private chef who works for an NBA star. She looked at my menu and said, “I want to see what this bitch does with eggplant.” I LOVED that. Eggplant’s tricky, and she said I made it sing. That kind of respect—from a fellow woman chef—was deeply validating too.

Texas gave me so much. From picking herbs and vegetables in a garden, to cooking in this serene space, to being looked after by Chef Dom—a mentor and incredible host. He made sure I felt seen.

I also loved this collaboration because I needed someone to help me on this journey of being authentic with my food, to call it what it is. And I just loved how he understood that. He gave me so many little tips and tricks that I’ll go on to work on. Houston was really special.

And then Nashville brought the same warmth. My host there didn’t even know what I was going through, but somehow, his presence brought calm and clarity. The kind of energy that helps you reset. That’s what I needed before heading back to Berlin.

It’s always a bit scary being in a new place and I’d never been to Houston or Nashville—but they all made it so easy for me: the setup, meeting the right people. Oh my god, the guests who came through to the wine bar in Nashville were just gold. It was a small open kitchen imagine omakase vibes—people sitting in front of me and I’m just there, making food for them while we sip our drinks and talk life. It was just beautiful.

And the food. Let’s talk about the food. I love fried chicken and eating hot chicken in Nashville was a dream. So crispy and so HOT. I went to Prince’s—an iconic institution. Chef Kwame had actually recommended it. He even laughed when I said I’d be fine in the hood because I’m from East London.“I’m not worried about you,” he said. “I’m worried about the people who take you.”

Also I absolutely loved Broadway. It felt like being in a movie. I was running around like a kid, living my best American life, listening to live music and spotting cowboys at the bar. Like… is this real life?

The joy, the generosity, the laughter. That’s what I’ll take with me.

This trip reminded me of who I was before life got a little messy. The people I met especially in Nashville and Houston helped me feel seen again. There’s something magical about being around people who just get it. Their energy was soft, generous, and present in a way that truly mirrored mine.

And that’s a gift.

I had such a great time. I needed that.

Because life knows when we need these moments—especially when we don’t.

So I guess I’m closing this out still in processing mode. There’s so much more I want to say—especially about the food scene. I’ll probably break it down into sections: New York, Houston, Nashville. Because honestly? This trip was an awakening.

Four weeks ago, I was crying on Ludlow. Now, I’m back in Berlin, full of stories, clarity and mad fire. Sometimes, breaking open is just the beginning. Bet on yourself, for once.

The track I’ll leave you with today is Got To Be Good by Gotts Street Park and Pip Millett.

Love,

Rez x