Kitchens have always made room for creative people: artists, musicians, actors, and anyone who finds a home among colleagues serving food and drink.
We work nights and weekends while others enjoy our hospitality. Behind the dining room’s curated soundtrack, kitchen speakers might jump from hip-hop to heavy metal to country.
Working in Lawrence in the early 2000s, I bonded with cooks and servers over music. Much of our money went toward concert tickets and road trips.
So when Day on the Hill returned to KU for the first time in nearly 20 years, my wife and I headed up the turnpike. I’d first attended as a high school junior in 1997, and then as a college student. Returning felt like revisiting an old friend.
First, dinner at 715 on Mass Street: meatballs, heirloom tomatoes, and goat cheese arancini with truffles. There, we bumped into Josh Rathbun, chef and owner of Wichita’s Lotte. We shared the excitement, finished our food, and shared an uber toward the music.
As the sun set over the Hill, below the Campanile, Die Spitz and Slayyyter set the stage for Turnstile. The crowd roared, danced, and sent crowd surfers sailing overhead. Watching that youthful exuberance, I felt reassured: the kids were going to be alright.
The next morning, I woke to a text from my friend Rose, Chef and owner of Mamacita’s: “Were y’all at Turnstile last night? What a show.”
Of course we were.
For those of us who spend our working lives helping others enjoy an evening, a night off offers something nourishing: a good meal, loud music, the chance to join the crowd, and be ourselves.
