My Palace in Dallas - Rosin Saez — James Kung Photography

“Solitude requires you to move past reacting to information created by other people and focus instead on your own thoughts and experiences – wherever you happened to be”

— Cal Newport, Digital Minimalism

Hi everyone, missed me? I will just assume you all do. After taking a little break from shooting and talking away, it’s good to be back sitting in front of my laptop, going through the recording every night, like how every article here is born. We’ve got some fun plans in the works for those who stumble upon this blog, and I can’t wait for all of them to meet y’all!

I started My Palace in Dallas during the height of the pandemic, and it was born from pure curiosity: I want to know, I want to see, and, most importantly, I want to document who the people around me have become after these unprecedented years. They can be artists or comedians, or they can also be the people you meet on the street—which is quite hard cause, supposedly, people in Dallas don’t walk at all. So, what is it that they do? This project delves into their stories and, as the name suggests, explores their Palace in Dallas.

Without further ado, allow me to introduce you to Rosin Saez. Rosin and I met in 2023 after having followed her on Instagram the year prior because I wanted to do something food-related with this blog. Imagine my surprise when I walked into Marcello’s apartment with her just about to put the branzino into the oven, and informed me there would be homemade ice cream for dessert. Fast forward to 2025. After many wine glasses, stews, potatoes, orange peels, and tomatoes, we sat down in her apartment, talking about her journey over some prosciutto cotto, lemony courgette, and crisp noon wine from Jimmy’s Food Store. We changed things up a bit with this one. Palace comes in many forms, when you find the right spot, even a simple storefront can feel like the snowy white walls of Camelot. I hope you’ll enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it.

Hello Rosin! Thank you for sitting down with me today! Before I bomb you with questions, for anyone who might not have the chance to know who you are, would you like to tell me a bit about yourself? Who are you, and what is it that you do?

My name is Rosin Saez, kind of a wild mustang with a few different titles on me. Full-time, I am the creative director at Marcello Andres Ceramics here in Dallas, Texas. On top of that, I founded the Good Taste Dinner Party series, so I’d like to consider myself an engineer of vibes in Dallas through hosting dinner parties across the city. Forever and always, I’m a writer and editor, a wordsmith; this is the heart and soul of everything that I do. At the end of the day, I’m a storyteller, whether it’s through ceramics, a messy dinner table, or any future role I take on.

You are no stranger to a good time with food, from a well-decorated table to a little wooden stool outside a patio. Having worked in the food scene and sharing the same passion with dinner parties and being an advocate of how food brings people together, could you tell me what the journey was like for you? How did you get to where you are now?

I am half Hawaiian, some Portuguese from my mom’s side, and half Puerto Rican from my dad’s side. Grew up in Washington state, and having lived in Seattle for years, there’s always this certain level of out-of-place that people tend to feel when they aren’t around their family or hometown. The primary way my family kept us connected to our roots – Hawaii and Puerto Rico – was through food. It’s not picture-perfect family meal every day, but no matter how busy my parents were, cultural dishes always found their way to our table. It could be a weekend breakfast, a Friday night dinner, or a perfect excuse to have their friends over for a casual feast. Through those moments and clanking of utensils, my sisters and I were taught how important it is to know these flavors by heart.

Fast forward to living and working in Seattle, I worked at an indie kitchen store filled to the brim with gorgeous cookware, dinnerware, cookbooks, not just for professional chefs but for curious home cooks as well. Safe to say I was deeply immersed in cooking and all objects associated with it before I started interning for Seattle Met. I really started to develop my voice after becoming their associated editor with a focus on food and drinks; however, a curiosity for food and the understanding of sharing, whether it's around a restaurant table or at home, had always been there.

Maybe I didn’t realize it back then, but that was my education: how important it is to appreciate and be curious about flavors. Growing up in that environment became my first step towards storytelling. My subject could be from Japan, the Philippines, or Tennessee; I could at least grasp the structure of different cultures and what it means to them, just like how mine meant to me. I loved telling stories in that regard, knowing people and culture through food, which is why I wrote a lot of stories through food and drinks.

Five years later, I moved to Dallas to become an editor for D Magazine. Moving to a new city as a food writer, I got to be acquainted with Dallas in a rapid yet somehow extremely in-depth fashion. The best way to understand a city is through food, and unlike Seattle, which I know like the back of my hand, I knew I needed to learn about this city and all its personality and quirks when it comes to dining. Since the outbreak and post-pandemic (Texas timeline), I got to learn and write about stories that shaped the city’s dining scene, some hard and some had a lighter note. Through sitting down at tables of various sizes, I got to unwrap this city in my own way.

I’m an ambitious person. I moved on from D Magazine to a national online publication called Thrillist that’s part of Vox Media while still based in Dallas. The team was small, and as the senior food and drink editor, we covered national chefs, restaurants, and cookbooks all over the United States. The expansion of my horizon with food coverage and my journey thus far led to my James Beard Award, when I got to write about a chef in Seattle. The scales might differ through the years, but the skills remain the same: writing from the place of emotion, empathizing and understanding my subject as best as I can so I can do their story justice, it’s an honor I don’t take lightly.

Never satisfied with doing just one thing, in 2023, I launched my passion project: Good Taste Dinner Party. I was still new to Dallas and wanted to build community, more importantly, I wanted to build it around something I love, which is hosting dinners. Selfishly, I wanted to meet people through this endeavor, but it was also as simple as expressing my love for hosting and sharing my food with people. To my delight, many here share the same sentiment and loved the idea; it doesn’t have to be fancy, but it’ll always be warm and inviting. Sure, the movement was already happening in NYC and LA, but it’s my way to honor my upbringing, bringing a piece of that fond, warm memory to a city I now call home.

Right now, I’m working full-time as the creative director for Marcello Andres Ceramics. One of the key elements for Good Taste was Marcello’s dinnerware. It’s not often you host over ten guests and have the cohesive platewares to accommodate that; collaborating with him on various styles of pieces was what made it happen. Years down the road, after my departure from Thrillist, I started working with him on a few writing projects that led up to my current role as their creative director. It’s a more all-encompassing role for me; sometimes it’s writing captions for a post or the intro for our guest chef-hosted dinner, sometimes it’s just dumping the coffee grounds and making sure all the lights are off before leaving the studio for the day.

As long and wild the journey sounds, the common theme has always been me following what I love and trying to figure out how to squeeze everything into what I do.

You grew up in a house that values hosting and is centered around a good shared meal. What element in your upbringing stuck with you and made you want to carry on that tradition for yourself?

It’s the imperfection of it.

There is already a whole empire dedicated to executing things perfectly, and I’m not interested in going down that path. I have enough avenues in my life that require me to be rigid and perfect, especially the accuracy when it comes to writing and editing. I love and embrace all of that. On the other hand, dinner parties are a way for me to not do things perfectly but still evoke a feeling of being invited, considered, and connected with people. In a way, it’s very different than sitting down at a restaurant. It’s intimate. It’s kind of matched but not precise. It’s wine that spilled or too heavy-handed with the pour, it’s desserts with a little too much burnt edges. It’s a couple of main dishes and sides being passed around with smudges of sauce on the tablecloths.

That was another thing I pulled from my childhood. My parents didn’t do things in a certain way; they did it because they wanted to share food, commune with friends, blast music, drink wine and beer until you’re too drunk in your own home, stumbling down the hallway before going to bed feeling like you spent your time doing something worthy. They never had a goal to make it look picturesque or had an angle or story in mind; it was messy and human and still so fun.

Ironically, I’m now in their shoes instead of the shy girl hiding in her bedroom because there were just too many of my parents’ friends over. I never hung out; instead, I peeked out and observed through the stairwell, watching them smoke cigarettes on the back patio, Mom holding a glass of wine, showing off her signature big laughs by the fireplace. Moments like that are what stick with me, and now, I try to recreate them with my friends.

To quote Gabrielle Hamilton: “When your kids come downstairs to say good night, give them a glimpse of something unforgettable.” And I think your parents may have done exactly that! From a teenager peeking out to see to now being the hostess of said gatherings, what was the biggest difference for you, observing vs actually doing it?

When I was young, I don’t think I remembered hosting as easy-looking. As a teenager, I just thought the guests were so out of place because they were strangers. *laughs

Now that I’m in their shoes, there are definitely logistics that I choose to include, whereas my parents didn’t even think they should put much thought into. A ring on the landline: “Come over, six PM, bring your kids, steaks and rice will be involved.” was really all they needed. My parents definitely played it a lot loosely than me. I ask for an RSVP and make sure everything is thought of, including a printed menu, paired wine, cohesive plateware, or even a well-designed invitation.

Your love for dinner parties didn’t necessarily spark in Dallas, if any, Seattle probably offered a much familiar scene and more resources for you to do Good Taste, why didn’t it happen back then?

Because I don’t think I needed it.

There was a void I noticed that needs to be filled. One within me wants more community and craves deeper connection, the other is nestled in the city, where people also crave a community that centers around a dining table. In Seattle, not that I don’t think people would be interested in Good Taste, but with my years-long friendships, from elementary to college and beyond, I’m already surrounded by my people.

My apartment in Seattle was also tiny, and so were my friends’. More often, we would go out for drinks and food, sure, I still cooked and have had people over, but it never became something I’d put that much work into or try to make a routine or structure out of it.

Has your definition of hosting changed over time?

I think, then, hosting simply means inviting people over for some food and drinks. Nothing wrong with it, at the end of the day, sharing joy and breaking bread was the common thread amidst everything I’ve done, past and present.

Now, being more intentional about what the menu is, asking the host – it won’t always be me – why they wanted to do this, and what about their upbringing, if anything, that they’re doing this for. I pull a lot of my experience as a journalist in this field and pour it into the foundation for Good Taste. Creating an environment where you can notice how much care is poured into each element is important to me. I want to tell the story of the food and their background as if they are the chef that I’m interviewing, that’s the part that might be the biggest diverging point from what hosting means to me in comparison to my upbringing; I’m trying to highlight the “why” of what’s on the plate and every decision behind the scenes that make it a reality.

As a food writer and well-seasoned diner, what element do you keep on the lookout for that makes it a good dining experience for you?

I think it’s the way you get an impression in the first few seconds you walk into a place.

If we’re talking about dinner at home, it’s less about looking at the decor because it’s often subjective, but more about noticing how they pushed their couch aside to make room, photos and arts on the wall were freshly dusted off to showcase their personality, those are the essentials towards understanding where their food and drink comes from before even sitting down at the table.

For a restaurant, it could be what they want to communicate through the decor and what you’re greeted with the moment you walk in. From the host stand to the temperature of the AC, even the decor and table choices are all intentionally chosen to grant you this quick download of who the chef is.

Small-scale, cold, chef-driven, intimate, grand, spacious, crowded—the list of adjectives goes on and on. As my brain starts churning while flipping through the menus – either professionally designed and printed or hand-written – those are the cues I often find myself looking out for to have a grasp on what will shape my experience there.

Working as the creative director for Marcello Andres Ceramics, you are not only in constant conversation with chefs who are in the process of deciding how a dish should look, but also on the frontlines of retail during studio sales, talking and witnessing home cooks coming to complete their plateware sets. All above mentioned experiences are new and different from what you used to do. Do you think they will have an impact on how you’ll cover food and drinks in the future?

Absolutely, with this current role, I have a new purpose in what I’m writing about and how that should translate through words. Who the studio is making work for, what our values are, the projects we wrapped up, experiences that we’re curating, and what new ceramic pieces we are launching all have different points that I’ll need to get across.

My previous writing goals are in service to the diners and to me, because I want to write what thoughts I have on things. I still do at the studio, but now the why behind each paragraph possesses a more specific idea; sometimes it is helping the readers picture what the piece would look like out of the kiln by being extra descriptive.

There is a newfound appreciation for the chef’s world-building now that I’m in the forefront and have played a part in how their cooking is being presented. It’s enriching to see chefs looking to find a canvas for their work, and retail clients who are excited about stocking their new kitchens. I love being able to assist them in accomplishing their goal through plateware.

You haven’t worked on something long-form and personal since your departure from Thrillist. If I were to ask you to write an essay about Good Taste and all its vibrant and diverse home chefs included, what would your angle be?

My favorite genre of food writing, or any writing in general, starts off sneaky. As their words go on, you’re unsure what the subject is right away, but then comes the reveal.

I might start with something that doesn’t even explicitly reference a dinner party; it could be a slice of tomato or the sound of wine splashing. It’s almost like I’m architecting an inverted triangle that started off wide at the base, as I dive into more details, the reader would then realize that they’re at a dinner party.

Memories of smelling food sizzling on the stove, a plume of cigarette smoke that snuck through the garage door when I peeked in on what the adults were doing, sounds of dominoes harmonizing with conversations that somehow were about everything and nothing. These are the moments I would start with before lifting the curtain, revealing to the readers that this is us sitting down with food, and the drinks are flowing.

You’ll wonder and feel unsure of where you are, not in a disorienting way but in a very broad yet relating fashion.

Whew, you got me brainstorming on the spot. *laughs

To further peek into who you are, can you tell me where you usually get your inspiration from?

I read a lot, and to no one’s surprise, I am pretty particular about the food and drink genre. When you consume a lot of other food writers’ work, to maintain originality, you have to make sure you’re not accidentally absorbing vocabulary or phrases during the process.

For my inspiration, I like to read non-fiction science books covering the environment and climate change. It’s a subject I studied a lot in college, and at the end of the day, food and drinks are still science. The more I can understand the systems behind them, the more I can accurately describe something another writer might not. I enjoy finding other sources of information and utilize them in my writing in a way that keeps my style unique and original.

I love the food writers from The New York Times. A while ago, I even took a writing workshop led by one of their main editors Ligaya Mishan. There are many writers that I love, Alicia Kennedy, who lives in Puerto Rico now, is one of our great food thinkers today. Joan Didion isn’t a food writer but still an amazing storyteller, whose work I often think about how to mirror her clarity into my own. I'm currently reading a memoir by Gabrielle Hamilton and finding a lot of inspiration in her wordsmithing. Although she’s not formally trained as a writer, there’s a rich authenticity in her style and how she communicates on paper.

“Crying in Hmart,” boy, the amount of bookmarks I had on it just from how glorious its descriptions are, to the point where I think I’m jealous of not having thought of it before. Compound Butter, Lucky Peach are a few magazines that I enjoy. Food writing that feels like they had something to say. Food and drink can be a genre that’s so flattery and precious, so I enjoy reading articles with humor involved.

It’s been five years since the pandemic hit, and for some reason, we all came out alright, if not stronger. What did you do to stay centered and sane? Have any of those new habits carried over now that things are back to normal?

My early years while under D Magazine were intense, since it was right around when the pandemic happened. There were many who weren’t able to see their vision come true through food because of the restrictions. I wrote about the grief I experience through them and tried to express it from their perspective. Those stories really helped me hone in on my writing skills, and as different as the type of food writing it was, I still found them really special.

As isolating as moving to a new city right around when it happens and not being able to meet new people as quickly as I would’ve liked, I’m someone who can do really well being alone and dig deep into my psyche.

I was hoping to find a yoga studio in Dallas at first, but that came far later down the line, so I developed my own meditation and yoga practice. It was still something I’m proud of, having only ever practiced yoga led by my instructor or in a studio, creating something I can do under my own flow was pretty special. It provided a spiritual check-in, being cooped up all day, every day, am I still good with who I am and who I want to be?

I remember I journaled every day back then, and bit by bit, I still try to write down my thoughts and provide internal clarity years later, to where we are now. Last summer, I did a yoga training program at Yogazama and obtained my teaching certificate. To answer what routine got passed down, had I not continued the practice I set up for myself, I probably wouldn’t even consider that is something I could achieve. I’m a better human being to be around because of these rituals and healthy routines.

I’m sure you have your fair share of traveling experience and exposure to different scenes across the states and even countries. From an industry perspective, what do you think sets Dallas apart from all the other well-known big cities or any other city you’ve been to?

Dallas loves to eat and drink. Not every city does so with such fervor, and the crowd can be pretty fickle.

Seattle has mountains, trails, water, and nature, so there are plenty of other things to do that don’t revolve around food and drink. Dallas has some nature for sure and an abundance of activities, but it is a very strong pastime for people to have food and drink experiences here. People here love to try new things, and in some places, they care about what’s to come, too, but with the same level of passion that Dallas possesses as a whole.

Dallas has this huge appetite for what’s new, which is exciting because not every city has a crowd that craves constant change. This mentality can be a double-edged sword, too, when you seek this high all the time, unless it’s a well-established city staple, places that are worthy of attention and nurturing could disappear over time.

Another thing that stood out to me is how much emphasis the crowd here has on the design of a restaurant. Seattle, my nearest point of comparison, the amount of money and interior effort of a restaurant isn’t always o the top of their priority list. Dallas did really well in making sure the entire dining experience feels great from top to bottom.

Lastly, Dallas has really strong opinions about what they love. Are they always right? Not necessarily, but they feel strongly about it. I like how Dallas can be protective and defensive towards places they love. I respect that about Dallas diners a lot.

Having spent quite some time finding your identity and setting roots here, what do YOU personally think of this city?

With everything I’ve done in the city, the one main theme has always been understanding the potential.

Dallas, at times, can be so extreme in the opposite, either super over the top or super well-hidden hole in the wall. There are so many spaces in between the spectrum in terms of dining that I’d like to see Dallas explore.

The way I look at it, Dallas has so much potential for this city to thrive in areas that just aren’t there yet. More all-day cafes, natural wine bars, ceviche bars, niche roasters, well-thought-out restaurants that don't take themselves too seriously, there are so many food formats that Dallas deserves that other cities have already specialized in.

Having hosted so many types of gatherings and lunch/dinner in your palace, what does this apartment and your kitchen mean to you?

It’s a great testament that you don’t need to have a big kitchen, a giant dining room, all the accoutrements to have people over and share a meal. That is the biggest lesson I think I’d want to share with anybody who is nervous about hosting.

We have a very aesthetic idea of what a dinner party should look like, but it shouldn’t look like anything. The ones my parents, I, all over the world did don’t look a specific way, they feel a specific way. Being in this apartment, I’ve had so many gatherings, and they’ve all felt different. A table where people can sit down elbow to elbow, chairs that are comfortable, and a kitchen where I got to cram years of cookware collection into is really all you need. So many big flavors come out of that tiny kitchen; the proximity reminds me of home. When I host in this apartment, it reminds me of home.

A special summer treat from us to you. In true food and fun Saturday afternoon fashion, this is the recipe Rosin and I were munching on throughout the interview; it’s the perfect mix of well-sourced ingredients and relaxing, casual bites. The photos used throughout the article are my way of telling that story, how a perfect afternoon hang came to be, from the shopping to the prepping, ending with some dog petting and blissful gulping.

Summery Prosciutto Cotto Courgette Sandwich

Ingredients:

1/4 lb Prosciutto Cotto
a couple of cloves of garlic, thinly sliced
4 hearty slices of focaccia
1 courgette (yellow and/or green zucchini), thinly sliced
fresh basil
1 yellow East Texas tomato, sliced to about an 1/8-1/4” thick
a ball of mozzarella or burrata (the latter is my preference)
juice and zest of 1 lemon
good olive oil, sea salt, pepper

Toast the focaccia slices, set aside. Using a mandoline, thinly slice the courgette into a warm pan of butter and olive oil. Add garlic and saute until softened. Add lemon zest and lemon juice, top with salt and pepper. Assemble the sandwich: layer pieces of prosciutto cotto onto the focaccia, take a nice scoop of lemony courgette and put it on top. Break open the burrata and messily spread half of it onto your sandwich. Drizzle with olive oil, sea salt, and pepper. Layer 3-4 leaves of fresh basil. Optional: add a few tomato slices to your sandwich, or fan them on their own plate and dress with lemon juice, olive oil, salt, and pepper. Serve. Eat. Drink with wine. Get olive oil all over your hands.

And we are almost to the bottom of my list of Qs for today, for those who are interested in getting into this business or starting something of their own. What suggestions or advice would you like to give them, or wish you had known sooner?

Understand who you’re writing for. Know what type of stories the magazine you’re working under or aiming for has already published and what they sound like. Details like these are important to know; many who are excited about writing often come with a list of things they want to express. A better approach starting out is to have a good understanding of how you can provide the writing service the publication needs. Think about making it easy for an editor to say yes to you, whether it’s a fleshed-out pitch or working with them regularly. To do so, you have you make working with you easy, anticipate what types of writing they might need, and prove that you could fill that need over and over again.

Pay attention to your previous edits and consider them the next time you sit down to write a story. Become a sponge of growth so you can do the same thing for other publications. Every publication has its tone, things they would typically say yes to, it could be edgy, descriptive, longer form, news style reporting, whatever the tone that outlet leans into, understand and match them.

I always write pitches as a one-paragraph story. Instead of outlining how I would approach it, I’m writing my pitch to an editor the way I think the story should sound. I’m describing how it feels, showing instead of telling them a sense of my skill as a writer before they even say yes to the idea.

Often, you get one email, one shot. If you are a writer who’s passionate about what you do, write it out. You want to write something that captures somebody, it’s easier to capture them on writing when you can prove you’re a good writer, even if it’s only five sentences.

To wrap this interview up, also because I am curious personally, what’s on the horizon for you? Are any “Big things coming” in the works for you? What would you like the world (whichever random soul stumbled upon this article) to know about?

My biggest project is myself. To a certain degree, I want to get back to pandemic Rosin in a sense of staying on my good habits, journal, and being more consistent in communicating with my inner self. I’m the most creative when I feel aligned with who I am and the values that I have.

Creatively, there’s so much work to be done and opportunities to discover with the ceramic studio. I want to push it to become this household name in Dallas and beyond. My work might have been cut out for me with how much success we’ve had so far, but I want to be able to tell stories and world-build for the studio as its own diverse brand.

Secondly, getting Good Taste up and running again, and it would be lovely to spin it off into other related projects. Maybe Good Taste bespoke ice cream service, I can make fun offbeat flavors like roasted strawberry balsamic black pepper, sky’s the limit.

Maybe a newsletter surrounding everything hosting, recipes, or stories told during previous Good Taste dinner parties, these are all seeds I’ve planted for a long time now. We’ll see what comes of it as we go through the rest of the year.