Ella Emhoff launched her Substack, Soft Crafts Craft Club, in late October of last year, just as her stepmother rounded off her presidential campaign. Five months later, she’s shed her Secret Service detail and is trying to rediscover her voice through her art and writing, shepherding an online — and charmingly intergenerational — community of crafters. “A lot of my demographic is not 25-year-olds,” she says. “And I love hearing from people and seeing what they’re making.” This week, in between both work-hobbying and hobby-hobbying, she took care of her sweets fix, ate homemade tomato soup, and had a very lawyer-dad-friendly lunch with Doug.
Wednesday, March 19
I start the day off with an iced coffee and a splash of oat milk from my local coffee shop. There are a lot of regulars from the neighborhood, so it’s sort of like a meeting ground for everyone to hang out. The barista has conversations with everyone, and the line can get pretty long; people from other neighborhoods have complained to me about the service. I’m like, “Actually, it is the best service I have ever had at a coffee shop.”
I also buy a cinnamon-chocolate-chip scone. They are unreal, and, consequently, always sold out, so you have to get there early.
I always keep treats around the house as little sugar bursts. I have the classic old-lady bowl of hard candies — cinnamon discs, Maoams, and chewy Mambas. Four years ago, my mom read that eating gummy bears cures mercury poisoning (?). She started eating so many gummy bears, and I just … followed suit. I have been changed ever since.
Later, I have some Berocca. It’s basically the European version of Emergen-C, and I really don’t know the difference. I do think it tastes better; today, I have the cassis flavor. It gives me a good boost, and it’s got a lot of immunity stuff in it. I also add collagen powder, and sometimes I’ll throw in some greens powder.
Lunch feels like a Chopped challenge. I have a random loaf of refrigerated bread, a can of tuna, green onions, and a fridge full of spreads. I mix the tuna with green onions, lemon, vegan basil aioli, and absolutely no mayo. I like to call this intuitive cooking.
Whatever I have in the fridge, I will find a way to use it. I’ve been ordering from Misfits Market for almost a year and a half now. It’s sort of like I’m doing my normal grocery shopping at a Whole Foods — but cheaper. Even the produce — which I initially assumed would be pretty banged up — is solid. Earlier in the day, I was roped into joining my friends’ bowling team for the Nolita Dirtbag Tournament at the Gutter. I thought it would be a quick thing so my boyfriend and I could grab a full meal afterward, but I quickly realize that is not the case. Upon walking in, I see everyone is wearing matching bowling shirts. A six-foot, flame-lit trophy sits in front of a giant bracket.
There’s a lot of yelling, and a lot of grown men getting really intense about bowling. I never like to toot my own horn, but I’m a pretty good bowler, so I’m excited. (We don’t make it past the first round.)
They have an open bar, so I have many bottles of Stella Artois before heading to 7th Street Burger, where I get a double burger and a side of fries.
Thursday, March 20
Coffee with almond milk. I usually try to make my coffee at home, but it depends on the quality of beans that Misfits Market sends me for the week, which can be variable. This week, they don’t cut it.
I’d call myself an intermittent coffee drinker. I don’t really need it. I just like the act of drinking it. I also grab another scone, this time straight out of the oven.
I get a very last-minute text from my dad asking to have lunch with me and my boyfriend. Doug doesn’t live here full-time, but he’s often here for work. We hop on the train and meet him at Rue 57, which really feels like a proper business-lunch place — the kind of restaurant that screams lawyer-dad. The food is pretty standard. Both Doug and my boyfriend get the chicken club — which is what I want, but I feel like we can’t all get the same thing, so I get a chicken Caesar salad and an unsweetened iced tea. It’s okay, but I always want more from a Caesar salad.
We hop on the F train later to go to Dover Street Market for my friend Luisa Opalesky’s photo-book launch. It’s packed. Dover Street events are always a little funny; the layout of these stores never quite seems conducive to having a lot of people in them, so you’re often having to navigate traffic jams. It’s a lot of realizing that someone you know well was three feet away while you’ve spent an hour trapped in a corner.
On our way out, we realize we’re in dire need of dumplings and cabbage, and Mission Chinese never disappoints … except when they’re out of broccoli with beef cheeks, which they are on this night. Regardless, whenever I come here, I order everything. Tonight, it’s the smashed cucumber salad, addictive cabbage, Chongqing wings, soup dumplings, and beef chow fun. I could eat those wings and cucumber salad forever.
We get the Pop Rocks passion-fruit panna cotta for dessert. After dinner, we walk our leftovers home in the pouring rain, but, fortunately, our food is spared …
Friday, March 21
… Or so I thought. I wake up and realize that my boyfriend has left them on the counter all night. He insists they should be fine, but I’m not so sure. Leftovers, at most, only get a couple of days in my fridge, if not one.
Iced coffee with oat milk. I guess I do really frequent this coffee shop. No scone, though. After our Mission Chinese feast, I need some time to build up an appetite.
For lunch, I have a mug of homemade tomato soup. Sometimes, on Sundays, I’ll meal prep a bunch of soup for the week. This week, I roasted two beef tomatoes, a container of yellow cherry tomatoes, two red bell peppers, and four cloves of garlic, seasoned with salt, pepper, and oil. I let them get nice and juicy in the oven, slightly crispy on top.
I spend the afternoon working at home and cleaning the apartment. When it’s cold and rainy, I like to hibernate. I also know that once summer hits, I am going to want to be out and about all the time, so I’m trying to get as much done as I can. I just relaunched my knitting club on Substack — it’s more of a crafting club now — after putting it on pause during the campaign, but now I’m bringing it back, and that’s meant a lot of work and a lot of meetings.
My boyfriend comes home with a half-dozen Dun-Well doughnuts — blueberry glazed, maple, apple crumble, triple chocolate, and lemon glazed. We take little bites of them all. I’ve been PMS-ing a lot; he thinks I need something sweet, and he’s right. Dun-Well makes vegan doughnuts, and I’ll say it: Vegan doughnuts are better. They’re lighter and more refreshing.
My mom also happens to be in town, so we go out to dinner with her at one of our favorites, Cosme. We’re creatures of habit with restaurants we love — it’s hard for us to break out of our routine and not order the things we know will hit. I’ve been trying to prove to my mom that orange wine is really good, but on our last visit, I ordered a glass that the sommelier described as “very garbage-y and sulfury.” Needless to say, my mom remains unconvinced. So we opt for mezcal margaritas and order herb guac, uni bone marrow tostada, prawn al pastor, striped bass, and duck carnitas, which are the stars of the show — a giant piece of perfectly cooked duck covered in radish and cilantro, with green tomatillo and red salsa on the side. So good.
Saturday, March 22
I get another iced coffee from the shop, and then my boyfriend and I run around Soho on some errands. We eventually need food, and the only spot that has outdoor seating that allows me to bring my dog, Jerry, is Jack’s Wife Freda.
I don’t want to jump on the bandwagon of being like a Jack’s Wife Freda hater … but this particular experience is just not fun. We order the burger and the green shakshuka, but it’s a weekend brunch so it takes a while to get our food; when it finally does arrive, I am pretty underwhelmed.
Then, midway through our meal, it starts raining. Once it stops, we have a brief sit in the park before realizing we need to go home and get ready to go to our friend’s concert at Berlin Bar. The show is very early and extremely on time. They tell us, “Doors open at 7; we’re on at 7:30,” and they are on at 7:30. I can’t believe it.
The show is synth-y and funky. Our friend — his band is called Teardrop — wears a latex mask while he performs. Friends’ shows are always a toss-up, but I am very impressed by the stage presence. We stick around and watch the next band. They have an early-’80s sound and wear all-white suits and … plastic clear masks. Something must be in the air.
Afterward, six of us go to Bar Valentina. I never expect to get a table anywhere downtown, but fate is on our side — just around the corner from the entrance is a perfect six-top. Right as we settle in, my friend sets her phone on the edge of the booth and it falls into the crack. My other friend uses her flashlight to try to find it — and her phone falls in too. The booth is bolted into the floor, so we have to buy a grabber at the bodega next door. We share fried zucchini chips, and I order a Caesar salad with fried chicken. Let the record show, this one is way better than the last.
Everyone is going to an apartment in Bushwick, but I head home. I usually do not go out very much, and having a dog has only fed that instinct, because I get to be like, “Ah, I don’t know if I can come — Jerry’s at home.”
Sunday, March 23
We wake up and go to Betty, a truly perfect Sunday brunch spot. I usually get the You Betty Be Ready, which is a dealer’s choice of scrambled eggs, bacon, pancakes, and potatoes. It’s a lot of food; it keeps you going all day. This morning, though, I don’t wake up very hungry, so I order buttermilk banana pancakes and an oat milk cortado. I usually try to avoid dairy, but I tend to microdose my lactose.
I head home and work on a painting project. I do not paint a lot, but I’m trying out different artistic styles to reengage myself. I like to reserve Sundays for hobby-hobbies and not work-hobbies. Today, this means watching Real Housewives of Potomac, painting, and eating some FitJoy Dijon-mustard pretzels with basil aioli. I also make myself a roasted dandelion tea.
My friend Clara comes over later with wine. She’s been very supportive over these last four years. Clara’s dad is super into wine. He gave her this bottle to drink with me for a post-getting-rid-of-my-Secret-Service celebration. A very mixed-emotions bottle.
Clara just moved into a new apartment, and we haven’t seen each other in a while, so we’re in desperate need of a catch-up. Eventually, we go get some vegan Thai food at May Kaidee. I take my red curry to go and pick up some tofu to add on the way home. I eat on my couch with my dog and drink a Stella while watching that episode of The White Lotus. Good night.
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