“Failure has a taste: sharp, metallic, burning on the way down. I’ve choked on it more than once.”
The story
An espresso machine.
Two wooden chairs.
The morning I locked the door on my 5,000-square-foot food hall in Atlanta, that was all I carried out.
The family photos on the walls, the pots, the pans, the life I had built there stayed behind. The plan had collapsed. What followed was the slower work of staying in the kitchen long enough to work with what remained.
Across eight chapters, Savoring Failure follows a series of reckonings: a sudden back injury and surgery, a food hall that imploded, TV projects that evaporated, and the quieter reorientation that followed.
The book stays at the heat source. Reduction. Deglazing. Resting the roast. The same forces that transform ingredients under pressure, heat, and time become a way to understand what happens when a life stops going to plan.
Brief kitchen vignettes sit inside the narrative the way they sit inside a meal: one image, one beat, then back to the story.
What remains
A trained palate
for heat.
For anyone standing in the wreckage of a plan, this is a book about learning to work with what broke without disappearing from yourself.
It offers the company of someone who has stood there, and the attention of a cook who knows that what happens next depends on how closely you pay attention.
Meet HarryPublication
Forthcoming
Publication details will be shared here when available.