Welcome to The Art of Serendipity

Saying yes to the quiet magic that changes everything.

This humble, lovingly written newsletter has been living deep in my heart for a long time, and I’m finally ready to share it with you. It is a gentle space where I’ll write about the things that matter most to me, and that I believe we are called to intentionally cultivate to make life more meaningful: awe, wonder, beauty, purpose, community, and the unexpected magic that appears when we say yes to life, even when our fears whisper otherwise.

My hope is that you’ll find it uplifting, honest, and inspiring, a quiet companion for your own journey. And if it resonates with you, I would be deeply grateful for your support. Subscriptions are $5 per month or $30 per year, and every bit of support helps me keep creating with intention and love.

I don’t want to explain too much, because part of its spirit is discovery and happy chances. I’d rather invite you to read, linger, and feel it for yourself. My nomadic life, our life as gastronomads, has given me a unique vantage point on the world. Moving from place to place, living deeply, slowing down to appreciate even when life moves quickly, and choosing to be mindful in each new home has taught me that serendipity is not just luck; it is a way of looking at life.

For me, being a gastronomad is more than a lifestyle. It’s a philosophy and an approach to travel, and to living authentically and tenderly everywhere. It means seeking the soul of a place instead of its postcard version, saying yes to shared tables and long conversations, noticing the small, beautiful details most people rush past. It means trusting the unknown enough to let surprise, connection, and joy find us.

The Gastronomad Experience was born from this same spirit: a secret itinerary, surprises at every turn, and a week woven with delight and enchantment. Here, in The Art of Serendipity, I’ll explore that inner journey, the mindset, the heart, and the quiet courage it takes to live this way, wherever you are in the world.

Thank you for being here. I would be so grateful if you’d take a look around, consider signing up, and let me know what you think. Your comments, reflections, and suggestions mean more to me than I can say. (If you’re getting this in your email inbox, please reach out by replying to the email. If you’re on the web version, please leave a comment at bottom.)

The Beauty and Ache of Change

The world is always changing, and so are we, day by day, season by season, shifting physically, mentally, and emotionally. With every passing day, our bodies, minds, and hearts are quietly evolving, inviting us to pause and look a little more closely at who we are and who we’re becoming. When we remember this, our vision softens and sharpens at once. We begin to see ourselves and the world around us with greater tenderness and appreciation: the places we love, the people we cherish, and the community of personal and professional relationships that make life feel deeply meaningful.

In the most recent issue of one of my other newsletter, the Gastronomad Experience Journal, I wrote about returning to familiar places and feeling that bittersweet tension between what once was and what now is. Every return reveals something new, sometimes inspiring, sometimes heartbreaking. The evolution of places I’ve loved for decades often carries a quiet ache. That sense that the spirit of a place, its soul, is slowly fading into memory. And worst, how those memories will eventually be forgotten.

Something stirs deep inside me in those moments. I feel overwhelming gratitude to simply be there, fully present, while also longing for the version of the place that lives only in my heart now. The history I once walked through begins to feel like a story I’m trying not to forget, even as a place writes a new chapter in front of my eyes.

The honesty to walk away

One of the clearest and most personal examples of this tension for me has been Pujol in Mexico City. For more than two decades, Pujol has been one of the most influential restaurants in contemporary Mexican gastronomy, founded and led by chef and restaurateur Enrique Olvera, a Culinary Institute of America-trained chef whose work helped bring Mexican cuisine onto the global fine-dining map.

In recent years, Pujol has consistently appeared on The World’s 50 Best Restaurants list, ranked as high as the top 5 in the past, and most recently listed at No. 33 in 2024, as well as No. 24 on Latin America’s 50 Best Restaurants 2024. In 2024, when the Michelin Guide launched in Mexico for the first time, Pujol was awarded two Michelin stars, tying for the highest rating in the country and affirming its status as a global destination restaurant.

For more than a decade, we’ve visited Pujol both personally and with our Gastronomad guests, and for a long time it felt like an essential chapter in our Mexico City story. It wasn’t just “another stop” on the itinerary; it embodied, for us, a moment when Mexican cuisine stepped into a new light, with elegance, creativity, and deep respect for its roots.

But sometimes, love and loyalty also ask us to be honest enough to walk away. Recently, I reached a point where I could no longer ignore how much the experience had changed for us. Over our last visits, the execution of the food no longer reflected the standards and magic we remembered: the depth of flavor, the balance on the plate, and that sense of harmony between what was promised and what was actually experienced at the table.

This realization did not come lightly. It followed many attempts to make things work and a sincere desire to keep this restaurant as one of the highlights we share with our guests. I feel deep gratitude for the generosity, time, and support we’ve received there over the years, and for the warmth and professionalism of the people who have welcomed us. My affection and appreciation for them remain very real.

Yet, for the sake of consistency and integrity in what we offer, I had to acknowledge that I can no longer, in good conscience, present it as a cornerstone of our Experience. We don’t choose places because they are famous, acclaimed, or photogenic; we choose them because they show their heart and soul through their food, because every dish, every detail, feels like an honest expression of care, craft, and joy. When that alignment is lost, it’s our responsibility to notice and to act accordingly, both for our guests and for the story we are telling about a city’s true culinary spirit.

So, with a heavy heart, I chose to cancel our upcoming reservation at Pujol for the upcoming Mexico City Gastronomad Experience, and step away, at least for now. This decision isn’t about blame; it’s about staying true to our guests and the values that guide every Gastronomad Experience. I sincerely hope this beloved restaurant will find its way back to what matters most: exquisitely and expertly prepared food, in harmony with heartfelt hospitality, creating a truly extraordinary, joyful, and memorable dining experience. If and when that moment comes, I will be happy, genuinely happy, to return and celebrate that beautiful renewal.

A joyful week in Mexico City

Since my last Gastronomad Journal (one of my other newsletters) published just two weeks ago, life here in Mexico City has been filled with joy. We hosted a beautiful group of warm-hearted Gastronomads for the Mexico City Experience, and the week unfolded with more laughter, connection, and wonder than I had even imagined. If you’ve read our stories about Mexico City’s exceptional cuisine and vibrant markets, you know how much we adore this city’s generous spirit and culinary brilliance, and this Mexico City Gastronomad Experience was a living, breathing expression of that love.

Just before our guests arrived, news broke of a cartel leader killed by the government, an event that sparked understandable concern from loved ones far away. Our phones lit up with messages, calls, and emails asking if we were safe. Yet here, in the heart of Mexico City, in the historic center, Condesa, Roma, Juárez, Reforma, and Polanco, life went on with its usual rhythm, watched over carefully by police and security that keep locals and visitors safe. Our guests were thoughtful, gracious, and level-headed, and together we spent the week savoring extraordinary meals, heartfelt conversations, and the sense of community that lies at the heart of every Gastronomad Experience.

A night of music and joy

On Sunday, after our Mexico City Gastronomad  Experience concluded, we checked into a hotel overlooking the Zócalo. From the restaurant on the rooftop terrace, we watched Shakira’s free concert unfold below, a sea of nearly 400,000 souls who had started gathering the night before the music began, filling the square with anticipation and joy. We chose not to dive into the crowd, but from above we could feel the pulse of that shared happiness, the singing, the lights, the collective heartbeat of a city celebrating together.

It was spectacular, the kind of night I know will be remembered in Mexico City for many years to come. Moments like this, just like the long-table gatherings and shared meals we describe on gastronomad.net, remind me why we do what we do as gastronomads. They are living proof that even in a world full of uncertainty, joy is still possible, connection is still possible, and beauty is still possible, often in the most unexpected and serendipitous ways.

In The Art of Serendipity, these are the kinds of moments I love to explore: the ones that arrive as a gift, unplanned yet somehow exactly the happy chances the heart needed, inviting us to keep saying yes to life.

Headlines and the human heart

And then, almost in the same breath, came the news that the United States is now at war with Iran. I don’t pretend to understand the full complexity of it; if anything, I feel more caution than certainty, and what rises most in me is sadness and concern for the human beings whose lives will be forever changed. Yet even this heartbreak echoes something I’ve shared many times in our stories on gastronomad.net: our most important role as human beings is to pursue a life of meaning, fulfilling purpose, and genuine happiness while still honoring the greater good.

We cannot control governments, wars, or the sweeping forces of history. What we can do, and what I believe we are quietly called to do, is live as kindly, lovingly, and courageously as we can, right where we are. This is the spirit that has guided The Gastronomad Experience from the beginning, and that also lives at the heart of The Art of Serendipity: gathering around tables, nurturing community, and reflecting the kind of world we wish to see, one shared meal, one small act of goodness, one open-hearted day at a time.

Becoming a gentle force for good

So we start close to home. We care for ourselves and those we love. We extend that care to the people whose paths cross ours, friends, acquaintances, colleagues, strangers we may only meet once. We practice being good, kind, compassionate, and forgiving, trusting that even when we don’t see the ripple effects, they are moving outward into the world in ways we can’t imagine.​

Life is too precious to do anything less. Time never waits. The moment to live fully, with joy, integrity, and love, is always now.

With grace, joy, integrity, gratitude and love,

Amira