08/10/2026
For the first time in many years, I stepped away from the noise.
Not intentionally at first.
In January, I broke my ankle and found myself facing surgery, a long recovery, and a reality I wasn't prepared for. The work that had always come naturally to me—cooking, hosting, creating, serving—suddenly became impossible. My world grew much smaller, much quieter, and much slower.
And in that quiet, something unexpected happened.
I rested.
I reflected.
I questioned what I wanted my life to look like moving forward and what parts of myself I had neglected in the constant pursuit of doing, building, and creating.
The healing hasn't been easy, and it isn't entirely finished, but I'm finally finding my way back into the kitchen.
Many of you know that for the last year and a half, I've worked behind the scenes as a consultant with Lebanon Public House. I'm excited to share that I've recently accepted a more in-house position there, allowing me to spend more time doing what I love most: feeding people and creating meaningful experiences through food.
As for Sacred Kitchen, she's still here.
She may look a little different than before, but she's still very much alive.
Moving forward, I'll be accepting private dining clients selectively, focusing on intimate gatherings, thoughtful menus, and the kind of hospitality that first inspired me to start this journey.
This season has reminded me that growth doesn't always look like expansion. Sometimes it looks like slowing down. Sometimes it looks like healing. Sometimes it looks like letting go of what no longer fits so that something more aligned can take its place.
To everyone who has supported me, checked in on me, shared a meal with me, trusted me with your celebrations, or simply continued to follow along despite my silence, thank you.
I'm deeply grateful.
Here's to healing, new chapters, and finding our way back to the things we love.
— Sarah