Wilson is  running for mayor for the first time, challenging incumbent Bruce Harrell in what’s shaping up to be one of the city’s most closely watched races in years. Even The New York Times has weighed in, calling it part of a generational shift in politics. (You can listen to our interview with Mayor Harrell here and get to know the man behind the mayor.)

We caught up with Wilson to get a sense of who she is beyond the race—the kid who asked big questions, the Oxford student who trusted her gut, and the mom thinking about playgrounds and public bathrooms.

You grew up in Binghamton, New York, with parents who were evolutionary biologists. What kind of kid were you, and what early memory or influence from that time still shapes how you see the world?

I was a kid who loved reading, spent a lot of time romping around outside, and put more pressure on myself to excel than my parents did. When trying to learn or accomplish something, I was very persistent and single-minded. I was a pretty serious kid, but with a sense of humor and an independent streak. I think being raised by scientists taught me to value reason over authority; I wasn’t afraid to correct adults or speak up when I thought something was wrong, and I’m sure that made me a little insufferable sometimes.

I remember when I was about seven years old riding in the car with my dad and asking what the purpose of life was. He said something like, “To have children and raise them into healthy adults,” presumably trying to answer my question accurately from an evolutionary point of view. Endless cycles of procreation struck me as depressingly futile, and my internal response was something like, “there must be more to life than that.” Maybe I’ve spent a lot of my own life searching for it. 

You left Oxford just before finishing your degree in physics and philosophy—a big decision at a young age. What did that choice teach you about identity and trusting your own direction?

The Stranger reported that my favorite movie is Orson Welles’s 1965 Chimes at Midnight—I think my husband told them that. It’s adapted mainly from Shakespeare’s Henry IV plays, and it’s a coming-of-age story that resonates with me because it’s about leaving childish things behind and assuming great responsibility. 

I know it sounds counterintuitive and maybe absurd, but that’s what the decision to leave university was for me. Of course, almost no one understood that, and it was a very difficult thing to do because I had to accept that I was going to leave many people in my life confused, angry, and disappointed. I had to take a leap of faith, trust my gut, and accept that there was this wide gulf between appearance and reality. It led to a lot of self-reflection over the years and I definitely got to know myself better as a result.

You’ve spent years organizing for renters, transit riders, and low-income residents. We all see inequality every day, but was there something you saw, heard, or experienced that made you want to take action?

I don’t think it was ever one thing. On a personal and emotional level, like a lot of people, when I see someone in a bad situation I want to help. But I know from experience that it’s easy to get lost in, and paralyzed by, another person’s suffering. I realized pretty early on that people-helping-people only goes so far. The forces driving inequality and other social problems are structural and systemic—and that’s where the big solutions lie too. That’s why I became an organizer. Organizing isn’t charity, it’s about building power.

You’ve been at the helm of major campaigns—co-founding the Transit Riders Union, helping design the JumpStart Seattle Payroll Expense Tax to fund housing, and steering efforts to broaden transit access for students and low-income residents. When you think about leadership, what does it mean to you on a human level, not just political?

Leadership is about looking and listening for what people need, and reflecting that back to them in a way that opens up the opportunity to address that need through collaboration and collective action. On a human level, that process should be both educational and empowering, and sometimes it can be transformative. 

Everyone involved learns more about how our society works, how democracy works, and how power flows. People discover capacities in themselves that they didn’t know they had, and ultimately—hopefully, if we win!—together they accomplish something that improves not just their own lives but the lives of many other people as well.

You’ve held hands-on jobs like barista, laborer, and boatyard work before becoming a full-time organizer. How did that work shape how you relate to people or stay grounded in what matters?

I love the camaraderie that develops among coworkers when you’re doing hands-on work together. Building and repairing things gives such a sense of competence and accomplishment, and I especially enjoyed working outside. But I also experienced some really difficult and unpleasant workplaces, and I worked alongside people who had far fewer options than I did. At the boatyard, they would hire Latino workers during the summer and then lay them off with no notice as soon as work slowed down. 

For a while I was renovating apartments in Eastlake, turning studios into very small one-bedrooms so the owner could raise the rents and sell the building at a profit. The boss was so cheap he wouldn’t buy us ladders, so when we did ceiling repairs we had to stand on overturned five-gallon buckets. It was so unsafe. 

The bakery I worked at was attached to a restaurant, and there was a guy in the kitchen working 80 hours a week without getting paid overtime. But he didn’t want to complain because he was undocumented and needed the money to send back to his family. Getting to know people in situations like that definitely stayed with me.

You and your husband are raising a young daughter in Seattle. How has parenthood changed the way you see the city and its future?

Parenthood has given me a new appreciation for our parks, playgrounds, and community centers, as well as kid-friendly restaurants, cafés, and breweries. Especially raising a kid in an apartment, it’s so important to have public spaces where little ones can run around. 

And public bathrooms! They’re more important to me than ever. 

Being a mom also makes me see our affordability crisis in new ways. My daughter is a future Seattle Public Schools student, and a major driver of our schools’ enrollment problems is the high cost of living in Seattle. So many working people have moved out of the city because they can’t afford to sink roots and grow a family here, and that affects school funding and ultimately the quality of the education we’re able to provide.

Campaigning and activism can be intense. What helps you keep your balance or find quiet when things get noisy?

Before I had my daughter, it was riding my bike. For me, that was such a great way to get around the city while also getting some exercise and taking a pause from constant work and communication. Now with a toddler, to be honest, there’s not much balance or quiet in my life. But spending time with her is at least a change of pace from campaigning. Sometimes I’m just focused on reading The Very Hungry Caterpillar or feeding her oatmeal.

Every organizer has a network—friends, mentors, collaborators. Who do you lean on when you need encouragement or perspective, and what makes those people important to you?

Back in 2017 and 2018, I was deeply involved in the “head tax” campaign, a high-drama fight that I wrote about here. That was really a trial by fire, and many of the people I went through it with are still close friends and colleagues to whom I turn when things get tough. I’ve learned a ton from fellow organizers, leaders, and collaborators over the years—sometimes by osmosis and observation, and sometimes because they give really good advice.

After two decades here, what part of Seattle feels like “home”—a place, ritual, or event that reminds you why you fell in love with this city?

I love being out on Elliott Bay. Our waterfront is so special, and there’s nothing like looking back at the Seattle skyline from the Bainbridge Island ferry or the West Seattle, or Vashon, water taxis on a beautiful day.

If we could strip away the title of “mayoral candidate” and just ask Katie Wilson the person: At the end of the day, what matters most to you?

To bring it full circle back to your first question, at some point in my life, it occurred to me that if a child asked me the same question I had asked my dad, I’d be stumped. What is the purpose of life—what matters most? Of course, you could say “love” or “family” or “making the world a better place,” and those are all fine answers. But what’s an answer that I could really stand by—and that would also give a seven-year-old something to chew on for the rest of her life? 

After some thought, here’s what I came up with: To participate as fully, as consciously, and as passionately as possible in the great unfolding of the universe. That’s what I want to do.

The post Getting to Know Katie Wilson appeared first on Seattle magazine.

Bird of a familiar feather

Chef Brendan McGill closed Seabird, his critically acclaimed Bainbridge Island restaurant, in September due to rising costs and the drastic decrease in business during the rainy months. Now, he’s reviving the space as Kingfisher, a morning market and evening wine bar, with a five-course, prix fixe supper club dinner held one night a week (the first will be Nov. 30).

Turkey Day is on the way

There is quite a spread of restaurants, bakeries, and hotels offering to cook for you this Thanksgiving, in either a take-home or sit-down capacity. Tomorrow (Nov. 1), Dahlia Bakery begins taking preorders for its pies (whatever you order, throw in an extra triple coconut cream). Lola’s feast has a decided Greek flair, with wine-soaked figs and spanikopita, and Conversation (inside the Thompson Hotel) will serve brunch until 1 p.m. and a Thanksgiving dinner starting at 5 p.m.

A rising tide in the RailSpur

The revitalized Pioneer Square warehouse hub will soon debut three new dining concepts from the Sea Creatures group, led by James Beard Award-winning chef and cookbook author Renee Erickson. In mid-December, Lowlander Brewery, Un Po Tipsy Pizzeria, and an upscale spot for European fare are set to open in the former FX McRory’s space, providing a place to play some pinball, grab a slice on the way to the game, or have a swanky night out, depending on the mood.

Catch of the day, caught a different way

A Seattle-San Francisco collaboration is giving diners a taste of a less-familiar meat alternative this fall. Just Poké and Impact Food have rolled out Impact Tuna, a sushi-grade, plant-based protein that mirrors the deep red sheen and buttery texture of raw tuna. It’s available for a limited time in the Pacific Plant Bowl or as an addition to a build-your-own seafood dish. Try it at all 32 Just Poké locations. 

Which cuisine reigns supreme?

When you think of Seattle’s food scene, what’s the standout? Next to the salty Puget Sound where salmon fly through the air, seafood definitely comes to mind. But there are other cuisines that shine surprisingly bright, from Ethiopian to Filipino and Vietnamese, on a level to rival anywhere else in the country. See which genres made the cut.

The post Restaurant Roundup: Turkey Day and Plant-Based Tuna appeared first on Seattle magazine.

With legal mandates such as HIPAA governing the handling of healthcare information, exchanging this data can be a complex process. Bellevue-based Edifecs focuses on healthcare data interoperability—the ability for multiple systems to share patient records—aiming to make the healthcare system more efficient for both patients and providers.

Founded in an Issaquah condo by Sunny Singh more than 25 years ago, the company launched on the platform of alleviating friction in the healthcare system by simplifying data exchange. Edifecs’ mission and primary offerings, which include cloud platforms and services for operations, data interchange, and interoperability, are rooted in making this exchange seamless across the entire healthcare ecosystem, from patients to providers to insurers. These systems save hospitals, doctors’ offices, and healthcare companies time and money by reducing administrative costs and providing easier access to patient files. They also help improve care, giving providers comprehensive data to make better-informed decisions. Edifecs serves nearly 300 million people in the U.S. healthcare market.

“How can we use all of that data together to tell a story, so it’s not just bits and pieces?” asks Katie Bunker, Edifecs’ vice-president of human resources. “We’re really doing a great job of simplifying the data interchange between the different payers and the providers.”

Earlier this year, the firm was acquired by Cotiviti, a Utah-based healthcare data analytics company, in a deal worth more than $3 billion. The acquisition will allow the company to offer a “continuum” of complementary services, “from the front of the house right through to the back garden,” explains Bunker.

“As an end-to-end digital data exchange leader, Edifecs has significantly advanced interoperability, enhancing collaboration between payers and providers for better care delivery,” said Emad Rizk, M.D., chairman, president, and CEO of Cotiviti at the time of the acquisition.

And, according to Bunker, Edifecs’ mission for holistic healthcare and wellbeing extends beyond what it offers to its clients. Since its inception, the company has grown to more than 1,000 employees, with half in the U.S. and half in India. Across that workforce, Edifecs takes a comprehensive approach to individuals’ wellness, offering an onsite Wellbeing Center and gym (employees have access to fitness and yoga classes, meditation, and nutritional counseling, daily tea service, communal bikes and kayaks), free biometric testing, smoking cessation programs, and other health-forward initiatives.

“We’re very, very focused on holistic well-being,” says Bunker. “I think we really do live our values.”

The post A Shot in the Arm for Data Delivery appeared first on Seattle magazine.

Pacific Science Center’s new exhibition, Spiders: From Fear to Fascination, aims to change that. Created by the Australian Museum, the show opened last week and invites visitors to step past their reflexive shudder and see spiders for what they are: essential, complex, and surprisingly beautiful.

The exhibit is fully immersive, with live and preserved spiders, large-scale models, interactive experiences, and video installations. You can trigger an augmented-reality floor where virtual spiders scuttle at your feet, or try out the male peacock spider’s elaborate courtship dance  yourself. Or, if you’re brave enough, you can get so close to living spiders that you feel the little hairs on your neck rise, and still find yourself wanting to know more.

This larger-than-life tarantula display is mesmerizing.

Photo by Sarah Stackhouse

“I am so excited for our guests to have an opportunity to observe the incredible collection of live spiders on exhibit,” says Hannah Held, Pacific Science Center’s Living Exhibits manager. “The specimens highlight the wide range of spiders and allow us to look closer into what makes them so special. It is a truly unique opportunity to observe the behaviors, habits, and instincts of these remarkable creatures.”

Displays with living spiders highlight species like the Carolina wolf spider, yellow garden spider, and desert blond tarantula—each accompanied by bilingual panels describing how they hunt and burrow. Another display shows real molted tarantula skins. You can see the fragile shells, complete with leg holes where the spider pulled itself free, growing slightly larger with each shed. And a fossilized Talbragaraneus jurassicus, one of the oldest spiders ever found, connects the exhibit to the ancient world.

Fuzzy and fierce, wolf spiders roam their habitat in search of prey, using their silk for safety lines, egg sacs, and shelter.

Photo by Rafael Minguet Delgado / Pexels

Orb weavers spin massive, silky traps for big bugs, but they’re harmless to humans. Look at this beauty!

Photo by Raynnier Gómez / Pexels

“For being such small critters, spiders have a huge reputation,” she says. “Most of us have been taught to fear spiders since childhood, and there are a lot of spider myths passed down through generations. Also, they’re fast, hairy, have eight legs, and at least six eyes. This exhibit provides a safe space to look closer. There is a whole spider world out there that we don’t get to see up close. When you aren’t being taken by surprise by an unexpected spider, you are able to be curious. When you take the fear out of the situation, spiders truly are fascinating.”

Visitors step onto an interactive floor projection where clusters of augmented-reality spiders scurry away with each movement, then slowly creep back once the coast is clear.

Photo by James Horan / Australian Museum

One of the most moving elements is a video showing a mother black lace-weaver spider feeding herself to her young. It’s an extraordinary act known as matriphagy. Another video comes from the Australian Bush Doctor program, where a Ngangkari healer describes using spider medicines in traditional healing, illustrating how spiders have long been part of both science and culture.

“It’s a strong exhibition and it hadn’t been shown in this part of the country before,” says Peggy Monahan, Pacific Science Center’s vice president of exhibits. “Seattle certainly has a lot of spiders, especially this time of year! This exhibit is a great opportunity for people to learn more about these creatures.”

The show also points to spiders’ growing scientific relevance. Researchers are studying spider venom and silk for their potential in medicine, sustainable textiles, and bioengineering. Some studies show orb-weaver silk has tensile strength comparable to (or in some tests greater than) steel of the same diameter.

“Spiders eat other kinds of bugs and are an important part of the ecosystem,” Monahan adds. “It helps us to know about them and recognize the role they play. That’s the way it is with science, isn’t it? There’s so much to learn about almost anything if you look closely enough.”

Visitors learn that spiders have been on Earth for hundreds of millions of years—long before the first dinosaurs appeared. And if you’ve ever heard one of those local legends about hobo spiders in Seattle, you might want to stop by before repeating it because the exhibit has a few surprises waiting on that front.

After walking through, you might find it harder to panic about the next eight-legged roommate that appears in your bathroom. Take a deep breath and try a catch-and-release. Spiders do plenty of good like, keeping other bugs in check, and like us, they’re just fascinating creatures trying to survive.

The exhibit runs through April 2026 at Pacific Science Center. General admission includes the spider show: adults $10, children $7 (special pricing through November 20).

The post The Secret Lives of Spiders appeared first on Seattle magazine.

Bernardus Lodge & Spa is located in California’s Carmel Valley, near Carmel-By-The-Sea, Monterey, and Big Sur. The property was opened in 1999 by Bernardus “Ben” Pon, a Dutch Olympic skeet shooter, racecar driver (in 1962 he competed in the Dutch Grand Prix with a works Porsche 787, resulting in a crash and an avowal to never race again), and vintner who opened his namesake winery in 1989. When Pon first discovered the area, it was more rural, but the same rolling green hills and expansive blue skies remain. Today, the region remains a quiet destination, dotted with horse ranches, vineyards, and luxury resorts. 

Arriving at Bernardus, I was greeted with a glass of wine and ushered through the property to my room—one of the Vineyard Villa Suites, which features the aforementioned copper soaking tub, an outdoor shower, fireplaces in both the bedroom and living room, and French doors that open onto a spacious terrace with views of the Santa Lucia mountain range. Dark ceiling beams combined with ornate chandeliers and a king-sized, four-poster bed are vineyard-chic; a living room stocked with magazines invites lounging in front of the fire with a glass of wine—an activity I indulged in throughout my stay. 

In the Village Suites, large copper tubs and private terraces off the bathroom (with outdoor showers) provide a spa-like experience.

Photo courtesy of Bernardus Lodge & Spa

Décor is elevated rustic, as seen in one of the Vineyard Villa Suites, where floral curtains, a canopy bed, and an ornate chandelier add to the charm.

Photo courtesy of Bernardus Lodge & Spa

Since I arrived after dark, I wasn’t able to see the property until the next day. Beautiful, warm, and clear against a storybook blue sky, the morning dawned with ideal weather for exploring both the property and the surrounding area. Bernardus has 73 rooms (a mix of standards, suites, and villas) scattered across a manicured property with pool, spa, bocce and tennis courts, adults-only hot tub, vineyard, rose garden, and plenty of nooks to discover along the way (there was a hammock positioned dreamily between two trees near my room). Bright citrus trees and waving grasses line the gently weaving paths, while building-climbing ivy and roses add an elevated touch. 

After grabbing some snacks from the complimentary, in-room selection, I downed a quick cup of coffee in the lobby (there is a drink station offering various drinks throughout the day), then inquired about borrowing a car for the afternoon. Bernardus is one of about a dozen resorts in the country with a Mercedes-Benz Drive Program partnership, meaning they have a fleet of cars—models include a Maybach, G-Wagen, AMG E 53 Cabriolet, EQS 580—that guests can take out for up to four hours on a first-come, first-serve basis. All you have to do is replace the gas you use. It’s a great amenity for the property, which is tucked away off the beaten path (part of its draw) without anything in walking distance. There are a handful of options for exploring: both Carmel-by-the-Sea and Monterey are less than 30 minutes away, Big Sur is about an hour, and, if you’re on a tighter timeline, Carmel Valley Village, where Bernardus Winery is located, is just a five-minute jaunt. 

For just $12, experience the rugged coast on the scenic 17-mile drive, which winds through the bougie Pebble Beach community and includes highlights like the Lone Cypress, Bird Rock, Pebble Beach Golf Links, and the ghost trees at Pescadero Point.

Photo by Rachel Gallaher

I opted to head for Carmel-by-the-Sea, taking a detour to cruise the iconic 17-Mile Drive,  a picturesque circuit of the California coastline that takes you past historic sites (Huckleberry Point is rumored to be a favorite haunt of literary greats including Robert Louis Stevenson and John Steinbeck), famous golf courses (Pebble Beach, Spyglass Hill, the Links at Spanish Bay), and so many opportunities to get out and see the crashing, roiling Pacific Ocean, that even though I had experienced 17-Mile Drive before, I was eager to get out at each stop to take in the salty-aired views. A highlight is the Ghost Trees at Pescadero Point, where wind-and-sun-bleached Cypress trees stand above a popular Big Wave Surf spot; their twisted, spooky forms remind me of the brush strokes of Edvard Munch’s painting, The Scream.

After 17-Mile-Drive, along which helpful red road markings keep you on track as your drive, I ventured into Carmel-by-the-Sea, where dozens of boutiques, art galleries, and restaurants offer hours of exploration just blocks away from the beach. For lunch, I indulged in a lobster roll at Stationæry, soaking in the afternoon warmth on its sun-soaked patio. After eating, I wandered around town, stopping at Pilgrim’s Way Books & Community Garden, with its tranquil secret green space, hidden away in the middle of town. Here, you can pick up everything from an escapist beach read and the latest contemporary fiction to books of all genres by local authors. 

Fire features on the cozy terrace at Lucia Restaurant keep the evening’s chill at bay.

Photo courtesy of Bernardus Lodge & Spa

An adults-only hot top offers quiet, and one of the property’s best mountain views.

Photo courtesy of Bernardus Lodge & Spa

Back at Bernardus, I took advantage of my patio, reading for a bit before heading to the adults-only hot tub, which I had to myself. Sipping on a glass of vino (each room comes with a bottle, courtesy of the brand’s winery), I watched the sun slip away over the nearby hills, cloaking the day in a gorgeous navy blue that signaled it was almost time for dinner. The restaurant, Lucia, offers Mediterranean-inspired regional cuisine featuring fresh, grown-on-property herbs and produce. I leaned into seafood, starting with a Dungeness crab cake (pickled vegetable slaw, jalapeños, smoked-pimentón gribiche), and choosing the market fish, halibut, which was cooked excellently (read: not too dry—often its downfall) and served with fingerling potatoes. I’m not usually a “dessert person,” but I went out on a limb and ordered the still-warm, partially-baked chocolate chip cookies with vanilla ice cream, and let me tell you that was an absolute indulgence. For oenophiles, Lucia’s cellar holds more than 5,000 bottles of wine across 280 labels, with a private dining area that can be booked for special occasions.

The resort’s adjacent vineyards capture the story of Bernardus Winery, one of the first tasting rooms opened in the area.

Photo courtesy of Bernardus Lodge & Spa

The next day I was tempted to take one of the cars out again, but opted instead for on-resort relaxation, starting with poolside yoga (offered every Friday and Saturday morning), followed by a 50-minute Bernardus Essential facial. My flight wasn’t until 8 p.m., but the resort allowed me to use the amenities (including the spa lounge, sauna, steam room, warming pool, and showers), so I spent the afternoon reading by the hotel pool, eating lunch on my lounger, and rounding out the day with several circuits through the sauna and steam room. With no activities or sightseeing on the books I was able to fully and deeply relax into the sunny afternoon without feeling rushed or planning the next move out in my head. Yes, the grounds, the gourmet food, and the amenities were all fantastic, but those six hours of indulgent, unscheduled tranquility were the biggest—and most needed—luxury of all. 

The post Bernardus Lodge & Spa is a Relaxing Base for Exploring the California Coast appeared first on Seattle magazine.

Finding My Way focuses on Malala’s college years at Oxford University and the ways in which the young celebrity activist tried to live a normal life, despite having her own personal security detail and a pseudonym at school. She explores new friendships, develops crushes, finds a community that helps her feel connected to her cultural identity, and tries out new hobbies. Like any young person, she also struggles to stay on top of her studies. But it’s the public speaking tours that financially supported her family and community that caused her schoolwork to suffer. Under tremendous social and academic pressures, Malala’s life unraveled as the PTSD of her shooting was reawakened in her.

In advance of her national book tour and her upcoming visit to Seattle, Malala chatted with Seattle magazine about her college years, finding renewed purpose, and what motivates her now.

Yousafzai spending time with friends during her college years.

Photo courtesy of Malala Yousafzai

In college, you embraced doing things that were new to you and tried everything from joining the rowing club to eating McDonald’s for the first time. What were some of the things that you discovered that you love?

Dancing to Cardi B’s “Bodak Yellow”, the TV show “Sex Education,” hashbrowns, the list goes on. I felt this freedom to try everything. I’d always been in all-girls schools, so I’d never even been around boys my age before. But what I loved the most was having friends. It had been really hard for me in high school, I was so lonely after we moved to the U.K. In college, I made a ton of friends, people who are still in my inner circle today. I went to college specifically with the intention of making friends and feeling less alone in the world. 

What do you appreciate or value most about your years at Oxford? What did you learn about yourself through the experiences of being a normal 20-year-old hanging out around other young adults?

It wasn’t so much learning something new about myself as being able to return to the person I always was—funny, mischievous, a bit of a troublemaker. When the world first heard my story, I was still in a coma in a hospital. I couldn’t speak for myself, so people portrayed me as a serious, shy girl, this sort of virtuous heroine. But that was not true! By the time I went to college, I had been through so much and saddled with so much responsibility as a child. I wanted to be around people my own age at Oxford. I’m really grateful I had that opportunity because it helped me feel like myself again.

At Oxford University, Yousafzai found friends who made her feel at home and the freedom to be herself.

Photo courtesy of Malala Yousafzai

When you were invited to your first Pakistani gathering at Oxford, you questioned whether it would feel safe. What makes your relationship to the Pakistani diaspora, and Pakistanis back home, so complicated?

I often hear from family and friends back home about things I’ve done or said that were misconstrued in Pakistani media, or conspiracy theories that people make up about me. This has been happening since I was a child, so I’m used to it. But I was fearful that the Pakistani students at Oxford had heard these rumors and lies, and that would affect their perception of me. Thankfully that feeling evaporated the first time I went to one of their house parties. They were so welcoming, and I felt immediately at home. It helped me reconnect with so many things I had lost—the language, food, music, sports that I grew up with. 

You write about your adjustment to life in the UK, as well as what your parents had to go through to adapt to a new country. Throughout your book, you also invoke the connection that you shared with your grandmother, who remained in Pakistan. Can you talk about cultural bereavement and what home means to you?

For the first few years, it was really difficult, especially for my mom. She cried all the time and desperately missed her friends. Out of the five of us, she was the only one who couldn’t speak English, so that contributed a lot to her isolation. Kids, of course, adjust more quickly. My youngest brother was only 6 or 7 when we came to the U.K. and he’s fully a British boy now. I’m somewhere in between. I will always love Pakistan, and miss my family and friends, the mountain landscapes where I grew up. But I feel at home in many places in the world now. It’s really a gift to be able to feel that all these places where I’ve lived and travelled, from Mingora to London, are a part of me.

Smoking marijuana one time with friends triggered your PTSD. Why was it important to you to write about your PTSD and to share these experiences so publicly with your audiences?

When I was experiencing my first panic attack, it was a friend who convinced me to seek help and see a therapist. Through my new book, I want to be that friend for other people, especially if they are struggling alone like I was. In the community where I grew up, there’s a lot of stigma around mental illness. I think this is true especially for South Asian girls and women. I want everyone to know that I’m not perfect, that we all experience low and frightening moments in life and it’s okay to seek help.

You built a school for girls in Pakistan with the award money you received from your Nobel Prize. That school continued to operate during the pandemic and has continued to grow. How has that project continued to inspire you?

There wasn’t a high school for girls in Shangla, the village where my parents grew up. My mom and her sisters never learned to read and write. It was really important to me that my little cousins had the opportunity to graduate high school and maybe even go to college. This year, I had the opportunity to see the school for the first time, and meet the first class of girls ever to graduate high school in this village. I work for girls’ education all over the world, but, if I did nothing else in life, I could die proud of this school and these girls in Pakistan.

Fame has provided you with a platform to amplify your activism and advocacy, but it’s also complicated and impacted your life and your family’s life. Your detractors and critics expect a lot from you. What would you like to say to them?

If someone is attacking me because they’re misinformed, I hope they read my book and discover my true thoughts and feelings. I put my whole heart into “Finding My Way,” so it is really a reflection of me. But there are other people who will attack me no matter what I do or say. I try to tune it out and focus on my work. The Taliban tried and failed to stop me from advocating for girls’ education; I’m certainly not going to let mean comments on the internet stop me now.

What do you hope readers will take away from your new book Finding My Way?

This book is my reintroduction—not a symbol or someone to be idolized, but as myself—a young woman still figuring things out. It’s my coming of age story, covering my journey from lonely teenager to reckless college student to a young woman in love. It’s honest, messy, funny—and I really hope it helps other people feel less alone.

Malala Yousafzai will be at The Moore Theatre on Monday, Nov. 17, at 8 p.m. for an author talk and Q&A. 

The post Malala Yousafzai Returns to Herself appeared first on Seattle magazine.

Inspired to find a more approachable format, Deshpande developed Journer, a notebook and guide with 75 prompts, six templates, and tips  to help anyone start on their journaling journey.

“Unlike traditional guided journals, which can feel repetitive, or blank notebooks which provide zero guidance, Journer offers a unique mix of guidance and freedom,” she says, noting that the act of writing down your thoughts “can help reduce stress and anxiety, regulate emotions, boost happiness, and improve self-awareness and cognitive functions like problem-solving and memory.”

Deshpande donates 5% of all Journer proceeds to the National Alliance for Mental Illness.

The post Journal Journey appeared first on Seattle magazine.

As with most small towns, the best way to experience it is through a local’s eye, so we asked someone who knows Missoula like an insider for her coveted advice. A part-time Zootown resident who studied at the University of Montana (located less than a mile from downtown), Kathryn Courtney, president and CEO of Mix Consulting, splits her days between Seattle and Missoula. Even with the half-and-half arrangement, she doesn’t just visit—she operates at a local’s clip.

“One of my favorite places right now is Posh Chocolat café in Bonner, just outside town,” Courtney says. “It’s tucked inside a restored mill house, and everything is made fresh on site—soups, pastries, chocolates, even lunch. It’s elegant but not pretentious, and they’ll make you a proper coffee too.”

The city’s small but mighty food scene includes gems like 1889 Steakhouse, which serves up impressive fare, like tomahawk cuts and craft cocktails.

Photos by Lorissa Dauenhauer

When it comes to fine dining, Courtney points to Boxcar Bistro, located in Missoula’s Old Sawmill District. “It leans French and is shockingly good,” she says. “Curated wines, a gorgeous space, and the kind of dishes that make you question where you are.”

For steak splurges—this is Montana, after all—Courtney doesn’t hold back: “For a killer and very bougie steak that rivals anything Michelin-starred, go to 1889,” she advises. “But if you want the real insider move, drive 20 minutes to Lolo and check out the Lolo Creek Steak House. Inside an old log cabin, it’s the real deal. The Stables is the newest super-nice restaurant in town, and everybody’s nuts about it.”

Missoula is nothing if not balanced. When you’re ready to trade steak knives for neon signs, Courtney’s list of post-dinner options features places with music, drinks, and down-to-earth throwback vibes: “Al’s & Vic’s, Charlie B’s, the Oxford, and the Sunrise—those are the real-deal dive bars,” she says. “And the Sunrise is where you go for dancing, no question.”

If you find yourself out boot scooting until the late hours, a cup of strong coffee is a must the next morning. Courtney’s caffeine solution is two-part: “Black Coffee Roasting Company is the go-to these days—it’s stylish and serious about the beans. But Break Espresso is the heart of the town. You’ll find half of Missoula camped out inside, working, reading, talking. The pie is excellent, the brick interior is cozy, and you always run into someone you know.”

Missoula is every nature lover’s dream, where outdoor activities—hiking, water-sports, biking—abound.

Photos courtesy of Destination Missoula

Weekends often revolve around the four overlapping Saturday markets downtown, all within strolling distance. “You could spend hours wandering between them,” Courtney says, noting that her post-market go-to is Worden’s, Missoula’s first grocery store. Here, you can pick up “exceptional sandwiches, imported treats, and wine,” while checking off the remainder of your shopping list. Next door to Worden’s is another Missoula classic. “The Old Post is timeless,” Courtney says, admitting that she recently stopped by twice in one day. “We used to hang out there years ago, and honestly, it’s only gotten better. Their menu is thoughtful, the drinks are handcrafted, and sometimes there’s live music that doesn’t ruin your conversation.”

While everyone is familiar with hiking Mount Sentinel, a local landmark since 1908, when students from the University of Montana painted a large “M” on its western face, Courtney recommends a scenic detour to Salmon Lake, about 40 minutes from town. “The water’s crystal clear, the vibe is relaxed, and it’s small enough to feel like you’ve got it to yourself,” she says. “We even spotted Pink out there during her concert stop. You never know who’ll be floating by.”

And before heading home? “Don’t miss the Montana Antique Mall. Three or four floors of curated chaos—elegant cocktail glasses, weird vintage dolls, first-edition books. I always find something.”

Ready to Head East? Here’s Where to Stay in Missoula

The Wren

Open since 2022, The Wren has quickly claimed “favorite” status among downtown visitors. Its rooms mix Montana minimalism with clever design touches (striped Pendleton blankets, ice buckets shaped like classic Styrofoam coolers), and the lobby doubles as a relaxed living room where locals and travelers regularly cross paths. Best of all, it’s less than five minutes to the Clark Fork River, the Saturday markets, and just about everything else you came for.

Residence Inn Missoula Downtown

Don’t let the name fool you: Residence Inn Missoula Downtown is no standard hospitality-chain stay. Built inside the beautifully restored Missoula Mercantile building, it’s where Western heritage meets modern polish. Ask for the Mercantile Suite—it’s got a lofted layout, soaring arched windows, and enough vintage character to feel like a scene from a film. Bonus: the indoor pool is a godsend after a sun-soaked hike or a long evening of cocktails.

The Gibson Mansion B&B

For a sleepover with storybook charm, try this 1903 Victorian nestled in a quiet neighborhood. Antique-filled rooms, a legendary scone service, and a garden that begs for a late-morning coffee make The Gibson Mansion B&B feel like a hidden chapter from a gentler time.

LOGE Missoula

A newcomer on the hospitality scene, LOGE caters to those looking to spend time outside of their hotel room. Inspired by the surf, climbing, and camping culture of the 1970s, this streamlined stop sits in the heart of Missoula, with “gear walls” in every room, so no matter your activity of choice, there’s room to hang its accoutrements. Didn’t bring your own? LOGE has got you, with bikes, snowshoes, paddleboards, and more available for daily checkout.

The post In the Mood for Missoula appeared first on Seattle magazine.

Real estate developer Scott Rerucha and his wife Aree fully embraced this mindset when they decided to build a ground-up home in Kirkland. The duo—who met more than a decade ago while Scott was on an overseas business trip—had lived in two houses in the downtown area, but, according to him, one was too small and the other was fine, but not their dream spot. After they moved in, they found a vacant lot with territorial views where they envisioned building a custom home.

Aree and Jill chose an extra-large architectural light fixture from Italy to hang in the kitchen. Scott wasn’t sure at first, but now he can’t picture the room without it.

Photography by Kevin Scott

“We really built this house for ourselves,” Scott says of the 3,800-square-foot, two-story modern residence. “I just threw the investment thing to the side and said, ‘I don’t care about that part. What I care about is that we get what we want to live in.’”

Once they secured their lot, Scott and Aree immediately brought on an architect—Scott’s sister, Jill Rerucha, founder of Seattle-based Rerucha Studio. “We always wanted my sister to design a home for us,” Scott says. When the trio sat down to discuss the house, Scott and Aree, who is originally from Thailand, brought different styles, underscored by a shared penchant for simple forms, clean lines, and a connection to the surrounding landscape.

“They both influenced me,” Jill says of her design, which combines an industrial-leaning glass-and-steel palette with custom wood elements—screens, ceilings, panels, and the front door—that firmly ground the house within the Northwest architectural vernacular. She worked with local contractor  Stackman Homes on the build. “My brother is more traditional, but also bold. He wanted a large house with a lot of street presence. Aree has a more modern aesthetic and a little fresher look at things.”

The striking welcome includes a custom front door from Starboard Door.

Photography by Kevin Scott

A reflecting pond just off the entryway, where a custom fabricated staircase winds to the second floor.

Photography by Kevin Scott

One approach the couple agreed on was the importance of entertaining spaces. Both Scott and Aree are very social, and according to the couple, it’s not rare for them to have 20 people over to share a big, home-cooked Thai meal. The views are most visible from the second story, so Jill positioned that level as the main living space, comprising the living room, dining room, and kitchen—off of which is a large, covered terrace accessed by a row of Fleetwood that can fully open for total indoor-outdoor connection—as well as the primary suite. Here, Aree has a custom walk-in closet with a chandelier: her top request for the project.

Downstairs is Scott’s golf room (complete with a virtual-play setup), a lounge, the guest suite, laundry room and dog bath, as well as a flex space that Scott uses as an office when he works from home.

According to Jill, “since their living space is upstairs, that really defined the layout of the house.” To make it easier to transfer groceries, luggage, and the couple’s two dogs up one level, they installed an elevator, which the architect decorated with emerald-green paint and Italian floor tiles.

Floating stairs were high on the couple’s must-have list.

Photography by Kevin Scott

As guests ascend or descend, music is piped in to add atmosphere.

Elsewhere in the house, the palette is subdued, with white oak flooring, textured walls, and neutral-toned furniture. Asian-inspired influences—the wood screens, the open layout, a reflecting pond, and a bamboo grove in the yard—are a nod to Aree’s Thai culture, and gentle touches that warm up the otherwise industrial materials.

“The [slatted] screens bring patterned light in the house,” Jill says, “and not using blonde wood, using walnut instead, it’s very much like their house in Thailand.”

Two standout moments are the entry stairs, a request from the couple, the white oak steps float on a heavy steel spine; and the kitchen, which is all black. “The staircase is one piece of metal,” Scott says. “It had to be brought in before the house was fully framed.” The kitchen, where Aree spends a lot of time with her friends, cooking traditional Thai meals, features charcoal-toned quartz countertops, black marble backsplashes, and custom cabinetry stained dark, with a pearlized finish that catches the light. “We ended up having to stain the cabinets a couple of times,” Scott explains, “because it’s really hard to keep the look consistent.”

For some siblings, working together would be like trying to combine oil and water, but for Jill and Scott, the process was smooth and collaborative, and it deepened their mutual trust. Scott and Aree love their house and their ability to easily bring together friends and family. “Thai culture is so endearing and warm and accepting of everybody,” Scott says. “When we created our home, we thought about that, and we wanted it to be a space that we love, and that we can share with others.”

The post Collaborating Cultures appeared first on Seattle magazine.

For my money, the Hill’s best-protected and most micro district hides on Summit Avenue at Mercer Street. Among the residential forest, five businesses cluster together under a trio of 100 foot bigleaf maples: Top Pot, Sol Liquor Lounge, and Single Shot in one building, and Summit Public House and Cornelly in another. It’s like being transported to another city under that maple canopy, maybe Berlin or Melbourne. Something about the light filtering through the leaves, the urbanity, the overall tranquility. There are some West Village vibes here, too, if the West Village were quiet and smelled good.

“It’s really the neighborhood that makes the place,” says Single Shot’s owner Ruadhri (“Rory”) McCormick, who helped open the bar-resto in 2014 and is now its sole owner. “It’s so special to be on this little tree-lined side street. We’re away from the chaos of Broadway, but we’re still part of a vibrant community down here.” He confesses that, although he also co-owns Re:Public and El Grito Taqueria in South Lake Union, we’re more likely to find him up here, away from the busy crush of the Amazon village. “I hide up here more often, where we’re doing our own thing,” he says. “Down there, with all the tech offices, it’s larger groups and happy hours. I would say it’s a good mix of regulars and new faces here—but it’s more regulars during the week, and a lot of them are our neighbors. Our friends.”

The creamy burrata boasts a seasonal flair, accented by charred peaches and rhubarb purée, sauced with watercress pesto, balsamic gastrique, and pistachio oil.

Photography by Andrea Coan

Whether they’re weekly locals or vacationing visitors, McCormick says, it’s the repeat customers that keep this ship running. Although it made a splash when it opened, these days Single Shot can elude the rest of the city, as the restaurant comes up on its eleventh year this autumn. “A little tongue-in-cheek play on the name,” McCormick quips, as we joke about whether people outside the neighborhood even know about this place anymore. (Just kidding: The name comes from an antique folk art carving—a 12-foot wooden replica of a rifle—that hangs above the bar.)

In comparison to mccormick, Antonio Palma is a fresher addition to the Single Shot team, having joined up as executive chef four years ago—but he’s been a regular diner since the restaurant’s debut. “I’ve known Rory for eighteen years, through Re:Public,” Palma says. (He’s been working in local kitchens for two decades, starting off with impresario Luigi de Nunzio at his longtime pastaria Al Boccalino in Pioneer Square.) “Years ago, right when it opened, Single Shot was one of my favorite restaurants to come into on the weekends. We have a flatbread pizza, the Margherita—that’s what I used to come in for, every weekend! And then everything else was so good that it became my favorite place in Seattle. At one point, I told my partner, ‘I would like to work in that kitchen someday.’”

Single Shot’s pork chop, sourced from Idaho’s Salmon Creek Farms, is bold in flavor and presence, combining a Green Goddess dressing, charred rapini, and sauteed green apples.

Photography by Andrea Coan

Palma got his wish soon after, helping with brunch and later dinner service for several years, departing across the lake in 2018 to help open Ascend Prime Steak & Sushi in downtown Bellevue as its sous chef. “But then I came back,” he says with a grin.

Since taking the helm at Single Shot, Palma has imparted the menus with the diverse culinary geography of his resume. It’s evident in dishes like the hamachi crudo, with pristine pink slabs of yellowtail, blood orange segments sprinkled with crunchy fried-out garlic, pickled rings of red Fresno chile, and micro-herbs, all served in a swirly pool of yuzu, soy sauce, and neon-green cilantro-jalapeno oil. It’s a Japanese-Mexican mashup that’s almost too vivid and beautiful to eat.

Another crossover hit is the roasted cauliflower entrée: a whole head of the stuff, spiced and olive-oiled, blessed by the wood fire, then dressed with both tahini and hummus, peppery romesco sauce, pickled golden raisins, and blistered cherry tomatoes. This hyper-flavorful, totally vegan dish evokes a place somewhere among Italy, Syria, and the northern coast of Africa (maybe Cyprus?), and it’s loaded with more than enough fat, texture, and sheer garlic to satisfy any avowed carnivore.

Luxurious vegan fare aside, for me, the star here is still the famous pork chop. Sourced from Duroc/white-line crossbred pigs via Idaho’s Salmon Creek Farms, it’s a monster at 16 ounces and at least an inch thick. Recently, it came with a Green Goddess dressing, charred rapini, watercress, and sauteed Granny Smiths—my plate exactly matched the trees I was dining beneath, light brown and brilliant green. Palma serves it with two extra-porky baby back ribs tented over the chop like a teepee, and it’s breathtaking to behold. The architectural ribs, the caramelized crust, the vivacious green sauce, the juicy first bite of the rosy marbled pork, and its fire-sizzled rim of fat. The faint sting of capsaicin. The superb quality of the meat itself. There’s a reason this thing has been on the menu for years. The last time I dined at Single Shot, I took an order to go, because I knew my partner would be jealous if I got to eat a Single Shot pork chop and he did not.

When asked how his menus differ from the ones that were in play prior, Palma says, “When I took over at Single Shot four years ago, the menu was a lot different. The previous chef was doing more of a Southern-style cuisine. So, when I moved here, it took me a few months to get to know the customers and the neighborhood, to learn what they’re looking for.”

“Sometimes I’ll do Mediterranean dishes, but then I’ll add, like, Japanese influences,  or some influences from where I’m from, in Mexico. Or Spanish influences on Italian dishes. I use a lot of French technique too.”

Palma describes his food as, global cuisine. “Sometimes I’ll do Mediterranean dishes,” he says, “but then I’ll add, like, Japanese influences, or some influences from where I’m from, in Mexico. Or Spanish influences on Italian dishes. I use a lot of French technique too.”

Fatty hamachi crudo accompanied by blood orange and Japanese-Mexican fusion sauce.

Photography by Andrea Coan

This diversity extends to bar manager Jason Mc-Grady’s inspired craft. Drinkers shouldn’t skip the Alpine Run, comprising gin, Amaro Braulio, rosemary, lemon, and red Zirbenz liqueur, made from the cones of Austrian stone pine trees. It’s earthy, citrusy, kinda minty, and the etched glassware is a sweet extra touch. The 611 Sling, meanwhile, is a rummy take on the Singapore Sling: Pere Labat 59° Rhum Agricole, Plantation Original Dark Rum, Vedrenne Crème de Banane, hibiscus, four kinds of citrus, and Angostura bitters. And the zero-proof Trellis is a not-too-sweet summertime refresher, with Wildfred’s Bitter Orange, rosemary, orgeat, soda, and lemon.

Single shot is one of those restaurants where it’s not possible to make a mistake on the menu, which is astonishing when you get a look at its tiny kitchen. Add to this the fact that Palma’s whole thing is cooking with live fire, and it’s plain dazzling. But even if its kitchen were the size of a Cheesecake Factory, I would still love everything about this place from Palma’s thoughtful seasonal dishes and the accomplished cocktail list to its lack of fussiness and pre-tense—which, to be real, was not always the case, back when Single Shot was one of the hottest tickets in town.

Aesthetically, this restaurant is also a standout. In an elegant nod to the 1920s, the dining room has a simple gray-and-white palette, with pretty vintage tile and twinkling lights that imbue a lovely golden glow. Details like the marble bar and the white roses atop it shows attention to the holistic experience. Another bartop tenet—the vertical espresso machine that looks like something out of Metropolis—serves up a tight little espresso at 11 p.m. after your meal, Euro-style.

And those big old trees are a crucial part of the experience, of course—the feeling of being cordoned off from the rest of the city. Of knowing a truly delicious secret.

As it enters its second decade, Single Shot has evolved into an exquisite dovetailing of McCormick’s moody aesthetics and Palma’s globally inspired culinary fare—all hidden away in a cool sub-rosa geographical pocket of Seattle. In such a quickly shapeshifting urban landscape, I’m grateful that it still exists.

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