Salt Lake magazine offers an insightful and dynamic coverage of city life, Utah lore and community stories about the people places and great happenings weaving together the state’s vibrant present with its rich past. Its Community section highlights the pulse of Salt Lake City and around the state, covering local events, cultural happenings, dining trends and urban developments. From emerging neighborhoods and development to engaging profiles long-form looks at newsmakers and significant cultural moments, Salt Lake magazine keeps readers informed about the evolving lifestyle in Utah.
In its Utah Lore coverage, the magazine dives deep into the state’s historical and cultural fabric, uncovering fascinating stories of Native American heritage, pioneer history, and regional legends. Whether exploring ghost towns, untold tales of early settlers, or modern folklore, Salt Lake magazine connects readers with the roots of Utah’s identity.
The Community section emphasizes the people and organizations shaping Utah’s present-day communities. Through stories of local heroes, grassroots movements, and social initiatives, the magazine fosters a sense of belonging and civic pride. It often spotlights efforts that promote inclusivity, sustainability, and progress, giving voice to the diverse communities that make up the state.
The photos are of familiar places, but the details are practically unrecognizable. Miles of streetcar tracks run through downtown Salt Lake City. Is that an amusement park in Sugar House? And why are there crowds of finely dressed people walking in the middle of Main Street—not on a Conference Weekend, mind you, just a regular day?
Women relax at what is believed to be Saltair Beach, date unknownMain Street, including The Owl Drug Co., Wilson Hotel and Walker Bank, 1943
Snapshots of life in early 20th century Salt Lake City are gaining new life online, notably in a popular Twitter thread, mournfully titled “What Salt Lake Lost,” and the Instagram account Old Salt Lake, that’s profile reads: “Salt Lake is dope—and so is its history.”
Pedestrians walk past Darling Stores on Main Street, 1951An Oldsmobile parked at the base of Anderson Tower, which was razed in 1932, on A Street, 1919
The audience enjoying these dope images is mostly millennials and zoomers decades removed from this lost Salt Lake. As a generation comes of age in an almost entirely new city, many are looking to the past and wondering what went wrong. This version of Salt Lake had what many young urbanites now value: easily accessible public transportation, walkable streets, local businesses (open late), and distinctive architecture. The Twitter thread and Instagram feeds often play before-and-after with the images, with side by side comparisons that demonstrate what’s changed in specific neighborhoods. It’s fun but also a little wistful. In the last 100 years, Salt Lake City’s streets and neighborhoods have transformed. And, in many cases, dull-high rises have sprung up alongside cookie-cutter condo towers and chain restaurants and parking garages squat where once stately, architecturally significant buildings stood.
Main Street, including Bennett’s Paint, Walgreen Drugs, Continental Bank and Trust Company and Wilson Hotel, 1938 A train car going up Emigration Canyon, 1909
These images, rediscovered by a new generation, raise questions about what we want our city to be. They especially resonate as Salt Lake works through another period of transition. Rapid population increases and new economic opportunities promise progress, but urban growing pains also threaten much of what makes our city unique. As more changes loom, this curation of culture feels like both an elegy and a call to action.
“Right now, we’re focused on filling people’s homes with happiness and joy,” says Beth Ann Shepherd, principal of Dressed Design. As a designer, Shepherd has brought her idiosyncratic style to the homes of high-profile clients across the country. Now, she is sharing her fresh, joyful design approach with Dressed Design’s new retail location in the heart of Park City.
The store, located on Main Street, lures guests with a welcoming veranda and an Instagram-ready hall of mirrors. Shepherd lovingly calls Dressed Design a menagerie and a rabbit hole. “Everyone’s first response is always the same word: wow,” she says.
Shepherd initially planned to open the shop in February 2020, right as COVID-19 began to ravage the U.S. While she was initially distraught about delaying the opening, Shepherd turned a global-pandemic-sized lemon into lemonade. She was inspired to debut with an eclectic mix of products to create the perfect weekend at home filled with music, family and entertainment. “This would be an entirely different place if we had not been locked down,” she says.
Now, along with custom furniture, Dressed carries vintage Les Paul guitars, whimsical pieces from local artists and old-school board games, including a Monopoly set made of glass, gold and crystal. “Dressed Design went from a traditional furnishings store into what I call a lifestyle gallery,” Shepherd explains. Now that her creativity has been sparked, there’s no going back. “I will not stop and I will not be staid. This store is going to continually evolve.”
Dressed Design 692 Main St., Park City 435-658-9857
Women of the World is a Utah-based nonprofit organization helping forcibly displaced refugees, asylees and immigrant women make Salt Lake City their home.
Established in 2009 by Samira Harnish, an immigrant from Iraq who came here to study engineering at the University of Utah, Women of the World empowers women to share their voice and achieve economic success through the programs funded through donations. When she arrived in Utah as a student, Harnish began helping forcibly displaced women in the community. Eventually she left her job of 17 years as a research and development engineer to create Women of the World and help these women full time.
“Creating an organization like Women of the World has been a dream of mine since I was a kid,” says Harnish. “I wanted to help women: to give them the confidence and power to speak up for themselves. It was a gradual process because I had to take workshops and learn about what it meant to run a non-profit.”
Samira Harnish poses for a selfie with participants at the 2018 Women of the World Fashion Show. This year’s event was held virtually. Photo courtesy Women of the World
In 2018, Harnish and Women of the World were recognized the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees as a finalist for the Nansen Refugee Award, which recognizes organizations going above and beyond in the aid of forcibly displaced peoples.
Each woman that comes into the program receives a customized service plan because no woman’s story and needs are exactly the same. Donations are the main support for getting women the resources they need to succeed in a completely new and foreign environment. Donations go toward resources and opportunities including English language books, college application fees, employment opportunities, entrepreneur business licenses, legal assistance, scholarships and more.
To serve all situations, Women of the World offers two different English language programs: Practical English for the women who simply need English to better immerse themselves within their community and Intensive English for women who are seeking a job or college education.
Samira Harnish, Founder of Women of the World. Photo courtesy Samira Harnish
Education is especially important for career progression and is part of the foundation of Women of the World. Even though the ongoing coronavirus pandemic has disproportionately affected women of color, the organization was able to award ten women $27,000 college scholarships in 2020 through the Displaced Women’s Education Fund of Utah. This past year, Women of the World helped 39 women find new jobs, and their clients’ annual revenue increased by $903,000.
One of the main events the organization hosts every year is a fashion show fundraiser showcasing the rich culture and the resilience of their program participants. The models wear beautifully vibrant traditional garments from their home country. The event is held in March to celebrate International Women’s Day. This year, because of the pandemic, the event was held virtually, but the women still got their moment to shine. The show featured women from African, Asian and South American countries, raising over $2,000 in an hour.
Women of the World aims to help acclimate these women to American society while pushing them to succeed in their education, their careers and in life, but none of that is possible without the help of the public. Through donations, volunteering and simply welcoming these women into the community, we can all help them start the rest of their lives in a supportive and safe environment.
If you want to learn more, donate, or volunteer for Women of the World, visit their website.
Read more of the most important Salt Lake stories here.
Dr. Watson, I presume?” This was the note Mary Brown Malouf sent me before I took the job as her second chair here at the magazine. “Dear Jeremy—If we’re clear, I’ll send an official offer letter. I want to make a few things clear about the job I’m offering you. It will be hard. This isn’t the Salt Lake magazine you asked me to join you 15 years ago. As its full-time managing editor, your writing and management load will be heavy, like mine. It’s a lot. But I still think it’s also a lot of fun.” Little did I know how hard.
Fifteen years ago was 2006. I was the much younger and very green editor of this magazine and Mary blew in for an interview. No one was sure what to make of her, myself included. In the life to come, Mary would raise a glass in the house on Reed and praise me for being the guy who hired her. But truthfully, she hired me. She put her arms around me and told me it was going to be OK. And it was, as the line goes, the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
For 15 years, in one way, or another Mary and I worked together, within the magazine and without. When I came back as her managing editor last year, we were firing on all cylinders. We kicked off the reunion with a daring trip to Jackson, which I recount in “Road Trip: Wyoming.” Yeah, me and Mary “shoveled” a lot of words over the years (as she would say) and I loved being the Watson to her Holmes. The previous issue of this magazine was us two, standing back to back, shoveling those words together. This one? Well. What you will read in these pages is the product of Mary and our team’s last conversations, inklings and flourishes. This new design was hatched right out of Mary’s brain and made real by the brilliance of our amazing designers, Jeanine Miller and Scott Peterson.
Our “Blue Plate Awards” are an especially poignant reminder of everything we will miss from our executive editor. Mary was proud of this magazine and we’re proud to keep on making her proud. xoxomm. —Jeremy Pugh, Editor
PS Arthur Conan Doyle never had Sherlock Holmes say, “Dr. Watson, I presume.” It’s a mix-up of the first meeting of Watson and Holmes with the meeting of the colonial explorers Dr. David Livingston and Henry Morton Stanley in Africa. What Holmes actually said, Mary would like you to know, in his opening lines of A Study in Scarlet was: “You have been in Afghanistan, I perceive.” Mary would have thought this, and my clarifying footnote, hilarious.
Letters to the Afterlife
Following the passing late last year of our longtime executive editor, friend, and previously unstoppable force of nature, Mary Brown Malouf, we received a massive outpouring of support and mourning from the community that she loved and was loved by. We devoted this issue’s Reader Comment section to a selection of these many kind words. —Ed.
Afternoons and Swizzle Sticks
Mary Brown Malouf and her late husband Glen Warchol used to drop into my bookshop late in the afternoon and we would have a grand old time holding forth upon everything under the sun. Glen’s passing was really hard for her but since his death, Mary worked to get out more, do things and see people.
Around this time, my friend, the filmmaker, Trent Harris, had dragged myself and others to Dick ’n’ Dixies for after-work drinks. Mary started showing up with her pal, Jeremy Pugh, the mag’s second-chair editor, who brought along the Tribune’s Robert Gehrke and his partner Laura Petersen. Historian Will Bagley would show too and, once in a while, drag along his brother Pat, the Tribune’s cartoonist. Plus, a random gang of idiots.
In a noisy bar, it’s easy for women to get talked over, often outnumbered by loud dumb men, of which I have been told I can be. Mary might have been in the minority but by gum, she would hold her own. No matter how arcane the subject, Mary was well versed in it and knew more than you did. Before Mary started showing up, our bar conversations usually featured Trent yelling over my free-form rants. “Nobody knows what the f*** you’re talking about Sanders! Shut the f*** up.” But Mary knew. She always got what I was talking about and could add several one-ups to it.
I have yet to return to Dick ’n’ Dixie’s since the COVID came, but when I do, I know we shall all quaff a cold one in her memory. I miss everything about her, from her wind-swept hair down to her cowgirl boots. Mary, you have literally been swept away from us but you shall live on in our memories. Adios, amiga. —Ken Sanders, owner, Ken Sanders Rare Books
Beauty and the Beholder
Mary, I miss her. I liked to talk to her about art. Most people couldn’t give a damn, but she got it. It was really fun! She laughed at my dumb jokes. The last time I saw her, I gave her a small bird skull I found on the beach. She saw how beautiful it was. I talked to Mary about ducks and ants, and she listened. We were on the same page there. God, I miss Mary. —Trent Harris, filmmaker
Mary once told me: “Everyone likes the Beatles—until they’ve had great sex. Then it’s all about The Rolling Stones.” This was after we’d killed our sixth bottle of pink champagne during a party at her home. It was her way of cutting the Gordian Knot over one of those thorny disputes that come up when everyone is talking just a little too loud and arguing about things that don’t matter. Not only was she right. She was, as her late husband Glen Warchol often pointed out, always right.
More than that, though, she had an uncanny knack for being able to look at things differently, to turn them around and grasp the beauty and absurdity—or sometimes both — of any situation. It’s what made her a powerful writer, a stern critic and a beautiful friend.
She was our own Dorothy Parker in any setting—erudite, with a lightning wit and sharp tongue. She was also tremendously caring and kind, and she loved all relentlessly.
As a community, we’re going to miss her insight and voice. Those of us who loved her and her spirit are going to miss her even more. Before Mary, Salt Lake City really liked the Beatles. Thanks to her, now it’s all about The Stones. With love, xxoomm. —Robert Gehrke, The Salt Lake Tribunecolumnist
For a Random Bit of Pink
I miss my friend. I didn’t believe it when I heard. She made her escape; she’s likely stranded herself on an island weaving spells to protect her cat, Halo, fermenting coconut milk into some approximation of mezcal or perhaps off to the mountains of Oaxaca and a new career as a pink-haired bruja living in a well-appointed cave where local villagers bring food (and mezcal in clay jars) in exchange for spells ensuring their good fortune. The brain does funny things to protect us from grief.
Many will recount Mary’s doubtless virtues; sure, her wit and wisdom made us all rise to the occasion.
Food and drink were an excuse to talk and share. The point was never the food or drink but the people, and I count myself fortunate to have been in her orbit. High tea? Sure, but one sunny day we drank mezcal out of the trunk of my car; she let me keep the antique shot glass, the love was in the sharing.
Always the smartest person in the room, always, but in keeping with her generous soul, she let me in on the joke without making me feel like a dope. She reminded me an awful lot of my own mother, whip-smart and literate. After my mom passed, Mary stepped in, little did she know, and I felt that much less of an alien talking to her. Losing a mom once is terrible, losing one twice is still making me swallow hard in the dark. Oh, for a random bit of pink. —Francis Fecteau, owner, Libations, Inc.
Oh, How She Jangled
It’s unbelievable, impossible really, that Mary is gone. That she was vacationing on the coast, hundreds of miles from Salt Lake, only makes it seem more so. Like she extended the trip, deciding to stay a few months longer, writing shoreside and posting unexpected pops of pink on her social media accounts from walks on the beach.
That’s what I tell myself when the grief of reality is too hard to process.
We walked nearly every week, seven miles round trip up City Creek Canyon, with Mary rattling off little known facts about the New World warbler, A.A. Milne’s early literary career and the similarities between making Mezcal and barbacoa. She knew everything—everything—about everything and was warm, clever, cynical, earnest. She made you think and laugh and embraced you like a dear friend, whether she had known you years or hours. Mary jangled, just like the stacked silver bracelets and rings that became, along with her tousled hair and colorful cowboy boots, her trademark.
I fell in love with her immediately, working alongside her at the magazine, perpetually wowed by her warmth, humor and endless knowledge. Over the past decade, she became one of my closest friends, though “friend” doesn’t really capture the depth of a relationship with a woman like Mary. I still find myself writing lists in my mind of things I want to share with her over bottles of rose bubbles when she gets back from the coast.
Much like her fashion sense, Mary made Salt Lake a more vibrant and exciting place. Her presence left an undeniable mark on the state’s food and drink culture, in the arts and on the many people she worked with, drank with, and laughed with. I will forever miss her and forever be grateful she was my friend. —Marcie Young Cancio, former Salt Lake magazine editor
‘Pink-Clad Bedazzled Spitfire’
Mary Malouf gleefully introduced herself to me 20 years or so ago following a nerve-wracking DABC liquor commission hearing wherein my restaurant was granted the first license to serve alcohol in formerly dry Boulder, Utah. She was overjoyed, ebullient and conspiratorial. The meeting had the quality of love at first sight. We became something significant to each other almost immediately, and shortly thereafter she asked me to officiate the wedding of she and her beloved Glen. To say my friendship with Mary changed my life is the truth, and don’t all true loves do that for us? My grief and sorrow at Mary’s sudden departure from this realm is deep and matched only by the intense gratitude that I got to be close to such a light. Mary inspired, informed, mentored, delighted and illuminated. Like everyone who had the experience of being loved by that brilliant, pink-clad bedazzled spitfire, I will miss her terribly, xoxomm —Blake Spalding (she/her), owner, Hell’s Backbone Grill
Red Rock Memories
Big beautiful you! So smart, so loud, so wonderfully bold. Thank you for including us in so much. Our restaurant is so far away from Salt Lake City, and you always made us feel so much a part of things. You were such an ally. So inclusive and protective and championing! Thank you for always giving Blake and I the royal treatment of laughter and champagne and your golden-pink vibrations of fabulousness. I loved visiting the little house you shared with Glen, the cowboy boots on the shelf over the stairs. Now, I arrange mine like that, too. The summer after Glen died, at Francis Fecteau’s wonderful wine camp, we stayed together in hotel rooms. Vines you and Glen planted, we, too, were tending. Grapes your feet crushed with Glen on the last trip, we got to taste as wine on this trip. You carried Glen’s eyeglasses, and losing them meant the grief might unspool you, away from us, toward him. Glen’s glasses kept you here. We protected them fiercely.
Thank you for sharing the fragility and the wholeness of your love with me. Red rock memories of you in our restaurant, you and Glen, you and Anna. Your Daddy. The monks. Your cat on a leash. But now I’ve lost my eyeglasses, and now there’s a Mary-sized hole in my heart, and the missing is like a great wave. I will miss you with everything in me. The memories I have hold you in Boulder, xoxomm —Jen Castle, owner, Hell’s Backbone Grill
A Daiquiri…or Five
Like so many across the land, Water Witch lost a guiding beacon in Mary Malouf. We will dearly miss her cantankerous wit, her impeccable palate and her uncanny B.S. meter. ’Til we meet again! With love, xoxomm —Sean Neves, Scott Gardner and Matt Pfohl, owners, Water Witch
Mary’s Email and a Gift
“I sent you a gift….in case you wonder where it’s from. XXOOMM” She was gone before I could answer.
I had indeed received a puzzling parcel from Texas with no indication of who had sent it. The thought that it might be from Mary never occurred to me. I have the contents beside me now: A vintage postcard of The Bell Memorial with the inscription: “Enjoy!” Handwritten, but not signed, a sticker from the Webb Gallery in Waxahachie, Texas, a second sticker saying, “Love Everyone” And a little plastic Ziplock bag with a silver chain and tiny, tiny silver heart. The necklace’s bag has a black felt marker inscription with the words: 18” F***. Then I saw in the tiniest-ever letters the same word inscribed on the heart. Now the gift is a memorial—a Bell Memorial to the invention of the telephone with the message from Texas and Mary saying, “Enjoy” and “Love everyone.” —Jann Haworth, artist
My dad worked with Mary’s husband, Glen Warchol, at The Salt Lake Tribune, and it got us into his wife’s inner circle. I was 3 years old when I first toddled through the red door at their house on Reed Street. It would lead to a 13-year friendship through our hostess’ best and worst times.
New Year’s Eve, 2017 was the last time I got to see the dynamic duo of Glen and Mary together. Of course, everyone loved Glen and Mary for different reasons, but after Glen died in 2018, the things we loved about Mary were even more apparent. She struggled with Glen’s loss, but her friends and family were there for her.
She had such an influence on Salt Lake, one I didn’t understand when I was younger, even though I knew going out to eat with her was always a big to-do. I loved that she always asked me what I thought about the food. Or about anything. She always asked what I thought about everything.
Mary will be remembered from boardrooms and barstools across the world. I like to think she was the same in both spaces, personally. Now I’m just scared we will never see another person who comes near the woman Mary was. What I do know: thanks to her, I have made friendships that will last a lifetime. —Charlie Gehrke, 16, High school student and Gentleman’s Gentleman
For the Love of Community
As an immigrant, restaurateur, manufacturer and caterer residing in the state of Utah, I have had my highs and lows, successes and failures. I have also experienced the kind of support from clients, friends, government and community you cannot give unless you are Mary Brown Malouf.
Mary was a one-of-a-kind soul so aware of how the industry works, with no personal agenda, but happy to patiently support, suggest and coach. She took it upon herself to help us groom our own business, without anything in return but love and respect. Through her words and support, she was a great representation for our state.
I was extremely lucky to have crossed her path, and the food industry in Utah should be so proud to have known the one and only Mary Brown Malouf. —Jorge Fierro, president, Rico Brand
Renaissance Mary
Mary Brown Malouf graduated with degrees from the University of Texas with a major in Latin and a minor in Art History. Her interests were in the following; food, dining, folk art, wine and her special skills were food styling for photos. In no particular order, Mary owned a catering company, conceived and executed marketing catalogs for Central Market in Texas, wrote about cuisine and edited for D magazine in Dallas and eventually for The Salt Lake Tribune. Back in 2007, we found ourselves searching for a great food writer, Mary came highly recommended and she quickly became our editor, juggling lots of balls while keeping a steady eye on the growing and adventurous Utah food scene.
Smart, witty, sophisticated in a boho way, Mary was a student of the culture she lived in. Texas, California, Utah…it did not matter! She became part of every place. We will miss her feistiness, her empathy for the struggles of the small business owner, her curiosity about her world, her ability to make a magazine for a community. We will continue finding ways to showcase Utah at its best knowing she would want that from us for our readers and friends. —Margaret Mary Shuff, publisher, Salt Lake magazine
Margaritas with Mary
What does one write about Mary? I could list her many contributions. Instead, I offer a peek into Mary, my friend who is greatly missed. Nothing brightened my day more than Susan, our manager, coming through the kitchen informing me Mary and Anna were there for a mother-daughter dinner. Or the phone call from Mary to make a reservation for her family as Daddy was up from Texas on a visit and she couldn’t wait to bring him. Most nights I would be invited to sit with them, share in wonderful conversation and a few margaritas. Mary and I had many of those conversations. Mary loved Utah and had one of the biggest hearts I have ever known. —Matthew Lake, chef and owner, Alamexo
Roaring In
Mary Malouf came roaring into Salt Lake in 2007 like a rogue wave crashing improbably onto our dry desert. Big. Bold. Unpredictable. What would she make of us and our nascent foodie and distillery destinations? And what to make of her? Pink lace dress, turquoise cowboy boots, a cacophony of necklaces and weapon-sized bracelets.
Mary came here because she loved a man, but she eventually came to love us too. A complicated love in which she dared us to be bigger, bolder, more inventive. But she also called our attention to the things we should love more about our community just the way it is. She intimidated restaurateurs, then made them her friends. She hosted daring dinner parties. She mentored our children, paying special attention to lost artists and tortured adolescents. She made judgments about the best and worst of Utah food and style and culture. And we listened.
And then we lost her as suddenly and improbably as she arrived, carried away by an ocean wave. So sudden. So unpredictable. We are still so stunned. But we are forever changed by having known her. —Vicki Varela, managing director, Utah Office of Tourism
It was early winter in 1991, and I had just come from a meeting with my advisor at Utah State University about my transfer from the U. I remember crunching across the quad afterward in my thin Army surplus jacket—more of a thick shirt, really—wondering if every day in Logan was going to be as cold as this one.
And come January, huddled in Physical Geography 1010, I learned a word: “Inversion.”
“Inversion” is a meteorological term that every valley dweller in Northern Utah knows and fears. A layer of warm air sits on a layer of colder air, slamming the cold down like a meat locker door. During January 1992, my first term at USU, there was a period of eight days where the average high on campus was 23 degrees and the lows averaged 5. It’s a deep, soul-sucking cold. The wind never stirs. Ice crystals wander amid stagnant air. Nothing thaws, not even a trickle.
And it’s gray. The sun does not, in any sense of the word, “shine.” It flickers like a dim bulb. In Cache Valley, where the tighter valley walls exacerbate the effect, there are times when you can’t see 50 yards. A grim smoke fills in the edges of your vision, made worse by the knowledge that every wisp from every tailpipe, chimney belch, cow fart or exhaled cigarette is floating in this toxic stew.
A prolonged inversion is a natural joke. The punchline? It defies Utah’s clean-cut, caffeine-free, low-calorie image. The Utah winter in the mind’s eye is snowcapped mountains soaring into clear blue skies, and besweatered families cuddling on couches in front of roaring fires while thick flakes fall in the moonlit night. Basically, a York’s Peppermint Patty commercial.
But each winter, the Wasatch Front and Cache Valley make the EPA’s most-wanted list. Children and the elderly are kept indoors. The curtain is drawn on the blue skies and snowy mountaintops and the roaring fires are extinguished by the Red Burn proscription. Utah routinely beats the smog capital of the world, Los Angeles, in this race toward the toxic.
It is difficult, once inverted, to not keep it from getting you down. We grimly check the newspaper for the “burn status.” We scan rooftops looking for violators. And we look hopefully forward to the local weather report that may bring winds and snow, and relief.
The National Ability Center (NAC) is getting ready to uncork a major fundraising effort after a year navigating the coronavirus pandemic. The 17th annual Red White and Snow event will take place from March 4-6 with both in person and virtual events in support of their mission to empower people of all abilities in the outdoors. It’s the organization’s single biggest fundraiser of the year and is essential to helping back the nonprofit’s programs for the coming year. Though this year’s Red White and Snow won’t mirror past events due to the ongoing public health crisis, the NAC is confident they can still show attendees a good time. “We got some good practice last June when we turned our annual Barn Party into an online fundraiser,” says NAC Director of Development Carey Cusimano. “We have a great mixture of in-person and virtual events that will allow people to participate in ways they’re most comfortable.” Things kick off with a Virtual Wine Tasting event on the evening of Thursday, March 4. Attendees might not be able to mingle in person, but registration includes private question-and-answer sessions with master winemakers and vineyard owners from three different wineries. Plus, since the tasting takes place in the comfort of your own home, you won’t have to worry about arranging transportation in case you get a little too enthusiastic while trying to decipher between notes of apricot or blackberry in your favorite vintage. Friday, March 5 will feature Vintner Dinners. Some of the available vintner dinners are in person while others are virtual, but all include incredible wines paired with cuisine from renowned local chefs. A socially distanced Deer Valley Fireside Dining with Eleven Eleven Winery pairing is open to the public, as are some virtual events, though available spots are limited. As always, attendees will have the opportunity to grill winemakers about the craft and pretend they know far more about wine than they actually do. Lastly up is the Virtual Gala on Saturday, March 6. Gala registration provides you with a secure, private link to the event so you can enjoy it safely from home. “We’ve designed our Gala this year to be very engaging and entertaining, a feeling akin to watching an award show like the Grammys,” Cusimano says. “We’ll have a silent auction, as well as a live auction with mobile bidding and our wonderful auctioneer. We’ll also have one our NAC participants, Gavin Cronus, share his story and tell us why the NAC is so important to him and his family.” Red White and Snow is one of the most fun events of the year, and it’s all in support of a wonderful local organization in Park City devoted to impacting the lives of people of every ability. Sure, we’ll miss the retro ski outfit contest of past events, but there’s nothing stopping you from wearing your best vintage one-piece at home. Visit the Red White and Snow website for full details and to register for events, and check out the NAC website for more information on the organization and the incredible adaptive programs they provide. Check out more community coverage here.
2021 is the year of spreading love and supporting local. With Valentine’s right around the corner, these ideas from our Valentine’s Day Gift Guide are the perfect way to show your community and your sweetheart some affection.
Top Shelf has a special holiday version of their Bartender Box, delivering everything you need for mouthwatering cocktails right to your door. The box is completed with mood-setting candle holders, candles and rose petals from Harvest Moon Events and boozy chocolate bars from Ritual Chocolate.
Skip the supermarket chain and buy a beautiful bouquet closer to home. (Plus, flowers don’t have to be just for romance: Native Flower Company sells a Galentine’s crate too.)
Let’s face it: 2021 has already been a stressful year. Give the gift of much-needed self care with a spa day, including Basalt’s signature stone massage.
Katie Waltman sells clothing, home decor and skin care products, but let’s be honest, Valentine’s Day is all about the jewelry, and this boutique has got you covered.
Fitness classes at Maven Strong promote mind and body love that you’ll be feeling well beyond February 14.
9. A date-night with food from their favorite local restaurant
Local restaurants desperately need our help this year, and ordering takeout from a neighborhood favorite is always a good idea. Need help narrowing down your options? We love Himalayan Kitchen, Vessel Kitchen and Pie Fight for dessert. Plus, our most recent print issue has plenty of recommendations for takeout and delivery.
We all know that a box of chocolates is a Valentine’s Day tradition, but for a more unique sweet, try Cache Toffee’s February special with dried cherries, almonds and amaretto mixed with both white and dark chocolate.
Way back in February 2020, our social feeds were all abuzz with talk of Inland Ports, legal pot for patients and tax shenanigans in the legislature. Since then, of course, there’s been a lot, of, well, distractions. Instead of Inland Ports, we had an Inland Hurricane. Instead of head-shaking over gerrymandering we had literal ground shaking. Instead of worrying over radioactive waste, we got active and took to the streets. Oh yeah, then there’s all that brouhaha about a truly viral virus and one of the wildest election cycles anyone can remember. So we’ve had a lot on our plates, OK? But here at the beginning of a new year, we found ourselves wondering what was going on with all that stuff that suddenly was deemed less important than, um, all the crap that made 2020, truly unforgettable. So to kick off 2021, we take a look back on the semi-forgotten (but not gone) issues of 2020.
1. Medical Marijuana
The question here is: “Can I get weed?” First. You could always get weed if you knew a guy but you’re way past the age to know a guy. Second, weed from a guy is illegal. So, next question. “Does Utah have legal medical marijuana?” The answer is yes, sort of. Back in 2018, the people of Utah passed, handily, Proposition 2. The fact that Proposition 2 even got on the ballot for a vote was, like, a big hassle, man. That’s because way before this particular ballot initiative, in 1998, the Utah Legislature passed a constitutional amendment that made the requirements to get any initiative on the ballot a steep hill to climb. Nevertheless, thanks to an extremely organized and by-the-books effort by Proposition 2’s proponents the initiative made the cut and voters approved it. But still, from the perspective of the legislature, it seemed like one step closer to being a little more like California, which we can’t have. The Governor hurriedly called a special session of the legislature to write a new law to replace the law voters had approved. This law, the Utah Medical Cannabis Act, is now in effect, with much more stringent requirements for distribution, access and, predictably, Utah state oversight.
2. Inland Port
Wow! Remember the Inland Port? We were in such a dither about it. Wait. What is an inland port? Well. It’s like a port, which you probably assume is on the sea, with “ahoy matey” type stuff, only it’s on land, inland. Ports (the ocean kind) are full of all sorts of goods from all sorts of places that have to go through a complicated screening to make sure that those shipping containers don’t contain bad things like the opening of pretty much every episode of Law and Order: SVU. An inland port, in effect, creates another “dock,” to continue the maritime metaphor, wherein cargo, legal or SVU-episode worthy, bypasses the seaside and is directed inland via the amazing Interstate Freeway system (thanks, Eisenhower). This cargo is sealed to be inspected and then released to a Wal-Mart near you. On the “let’s do that” side, it gives an overly burdened inspection system a relief valve, creates jobs and economic growth in Utah, and hey, we’re Utah, we finally have a Cheesecake Factory, let’s do that inland port thing, right? On the “WTF?” side it steals jobs and labor away from coastal communities, continues to break unions’ backs (Utah and other inland port nominees are “right to work” states,) adds ridiculously more amounts of carbon into the atmosphere, and creates a goshdarn mess of inbound and outbound traffic in the western desert. It became an issue in the 2019 election of Salt Lake Mayor Erin Mendenhall. Erin Mendenhall is the mayor of Salt Lake City. What? You’re still on Biskupski?) She ran against a bunch of people including Stan Penfold, a lifer city guy who tried to hold her to account for decisions she made in favor of the port while she was on the Salt Lake City Council. The port seems like a done deal and despite its promises of environmental sustainability, there has been little but lip service paid to its opponents concerned about all the unintended consequences a giant international free-trade zone right here in Salt Lake City will generate. Port starts with “P” and rhymes with “T” and that spells “trouble.”
3. Gerrymandering
Let’s talk about Proposition 4. The anti-gerrymandering initiative. In 1998, Utah’s government (that equals a governor and legislature) got the people of Utah to amend the Constitution of the State of Utah, to make it absurdly hard to get propositions onto the ballot. Again, we didn’t want to be like those weirdos in California. Despite that, in the 2018 election, Proposition 4 came to a vote. It required the establishment of a broad-based, open and transparent committee to oversee future redistricting in Utah to prevent what happened in 2000, the last time Utah’s election maps were redrawn. In 2000, the Republican controlled legislature, which was in charge of the redistricting process, put all the Democrat-leaning areas of Utah into a blender with the rest of Utah and hit liquefy. This has blatantly tipped the scale in favor of Republicans in every election since. Did you know, for example, that the posh denizens of the Avenues live in a district that includes St. George? And that District 4, where Ben McAdams just lost to Burgess Owens, is basically all of Utah County and a teeny sliver of Salt Lake County? The organization that spearheaded the effort, Better Boundaries, is still wrangling with the legislature to ensure the spirit of the Proposition survives the legislative efforts to water it down.
4. Expanding Medicaid Coverage
In the 2018 election, three “hey let’s all decide” propositions came to a vote. They all passed. Case No. 3, or Proposition 3, was brought to the people with all the signatures and jumped through hoops to propose that the state of Utah should accept federal funds to expand Medicaid coverage. Utah legislators and their governor have refused many, many dollars in federal funding designated for states under the Affordable Care Act, a cynical ideological decision. Proposition 3, despite efforts by the Utah Attorney General, made it to the ballot and then to a vote and passed not just by a small margin—more than 1.5 million of your fellow citizens were like, “yeah, that sounds great.” And the Prop asked citizens to agree to raise their own taxes to cover the gap between the federal and state dollars. So you know what happens next, right? In the 2019 legislative session, the Utah Senate created and approved a bill to repeal and replace Proposition 3. Your filthy federal lucre isn’t wanted here, along with basic healthcare for more than 100,000 Utahns without coverage. Weird math, right?
5. Radioactive Waste
Energy Fuels, a Colorado-based business that owns the White Mesa Mill in Utah’s stunningly beautiful San Juan County, wants us to let a Canadian company with operations in Estonia ship hundreds of tons of the uranium-containing byproduct of their rare earth mineral processing operations. We’ve been down this road before. Hello, Tooele? Energy Solutions? It seems like companies everywhere want to store their depleted uranium in the middle of our desert. Why? Because they think there’s nothing there. We, of course, know better. There’s incredible beauty there. We need that.
6. Development and Affordable Housing
Despite the lockdown, construction of new high-rises continues at a startling rate. While the city and county leaders seem to be giving a blank check to developers, lower and middle-income renters are being squeezed with skyrocketing rents and housing prices. Generally, density in housing is a good thing. It reduces air pollution that comes from less-dense sprawl, it brings a critical mass of people and businesses to a central area and makes us feel like a “real city.” Still, watching cranes rise to create more tacky luxury apartment buildings with dumb names, granite countertops tops and rents starting at $2,000 feels alarming. Sure, we want a ‘built city’ but what are we building? Where are the workers for all these future businesses supposed to live? Magna? And while developers are made to include a certain percentage of units for affordable housing, you basically have to be broke to qualify for affordable housing.
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Our January-February Editor’s Letter From Mary Brown Malouf:
It’s all a little crazy.
Sometime in 2020, the world stopped making sense for a lot of us. Between one of the ugliest election cycles the U.S. has ever been through and the most mysterious disease most of us have ever experienced, normal was canceled. We can’t get together with friends, hug our loved ones, be in the room with them when they die. But somehow we have to go on, right? Somehow we have to continue to work and love and laugh. This issue of Salt Lake magazine holds a lot of frivolity, the main one being an extremely silly TV show, The Real Housewives of Salt Lake City. There I am in a pink fur coat in a car with our cover housewife, Lisa Barlow and her boys. They call this escapism and for me it was certainly a departure from anything else I’ve ever done. But kinda fun, y’know?
Spangly clothes and high heels and tiny problems provided a respite from all the other very sad news. Like the effect of this virus on our beloved city. The restaurant, bar and hospitality business has been desperately damaged. We hope our Easy Eats article (P. 58) about how to dine out-but-in can do a bit to save gastronomy in SLC. Fortunately, Utah’s uplifting (not just geologically speaking) landscape is a spiritual comfort. Join writer Jeremy Pugh as he explores a piece of it.
A year ago, before 2020, we were worried about lots of other problems that were covered up by COVID concerns. Most of them sprang from vision disconnect between the governed and their governors, the same myopia that led us into the mess of 2020. In this new year, let’s make it real again.
Since early sailors picked up the practice in Polynesia centuries ago, the decision to ink your feelings in your skin has been the ultimate in wearing your heart on your sleeve. Entwined lovers’ hearts, a sweetheart’s name, the scene of a beloved memory—all have been symbols of undying affection—a testament to love left behind, a lover far away or a tangible expression of a love you feel will last forever. Tattoos are a way to memorialize love.
The Art of Ink:
Since Sailor Jerry (yes, a real person) popularized tattoos
in America and created the “American style” tattoo with
its dark outlines and primary colors, tattooing has evolved into a better understood and more appreciated art form. Tattoo artists have individual techniques and styles, working with their clients to create a truly unique and highly personal piece of art.
And of course, love is not reserved for a lover—people express love for friends, grandparents, and even pets, with tattoos.
“We frequently get requests for memorial tattoos where the person wants to get a cancer ribbon, or a name and birth/death dates,” says Darlene Fuhst, co-owner of Prohibition Ink. “We encourage people to come up with something that the person loved, or a memory associated with their time spent with the person. We always encourage people to find imagery that represents a person rather than something literal, and that allows for much more personal and creative designs than what they may have first had in mind.” Prohibition Ink Custom Tattoo, 801-485-2294. prohibitionink.com
INKED YOUR LOVE?
During February, Cupid’s month, send a picture of your tat and a short explanation of the love it represents—you’ll be eligible to win dinner for two. Send your pics to magazine@saltlakemagazine.com or DM us @slmag on Instagram or Twitter.
