Hospitality sits at the center of everything Rowan Spencer and Emma Leigh Macdonald do. Through their project Mon Petit Canard, the partners and collaborators bring together food, music, and storytelling, creating gatherings that feel as natural and welcoming as spending an evening at a friend’s home.
We’ve known Rowan and Emma for years, and have loved hosting them for pop-ups at our Echo Park café. We’re always curious about what they’re up to, and joined them in Brooklyn to see how their mornings begin.
ES: I work half in writing and half in food, and bring those things together whenever possible. I used to work more directly in the art and design worlds, but made a pivot to cooking in 2021—which is the shift that led Rowan and I to start working together in food and music, under the name Mon Petit Canard (https://mpc.restaurant) (MPC). Whether it’s writing or hosting or cooking I like to keep hospitality at the center.
RS: I would say I work half in writing too, and that the other half is a hodgepodge of work in music, hospitality, media, culture, and creative direction. A career freelancer, basically. I started working in DJ booths and kitchens while I was in school too, and I put a lot of that experience into helping open Public Records. Now it all goes into MPC.
ES + RS: We have a crazy dog who sleeps in another room, and who gets excited at the slightest sound of us waking up in the morning. So the first order of business is giving her some attention while we make coffee, and then one of us takes her out.
ES + RS: Until this winter we were people who went out for our morning coffee, but we recently made the switch to making it at home (though we still make sure to visit our neighborhood spot, Nili, regularly). Now we make coffee with a dark green Moccamaster and both have it with a bit of milk.
ES + RS: We have an array! We have a couple beautiful mugs from the Brooklyn/Maine-based Object & Totem that we found at The Primary Essentials. Those are our go-to’s in the morning, and then our collection has a variety of sentimental selections from there. One from McGill, where we both went to college, one from Riley Sales (Rowan’s family’s business), and a couple glass Muji options.
ES + RS: We would get up slowly, put a record on, and start the crossword for sure. Somehow in this scenario Lou (our dog) has already been out and can wait a little for her walk, so all three of us are curled up on the couch.
ES + RS: Last year we went to Japan for the first time, and while it may be a cliché to say, the hospitality present in every scenario there was really astounding to us. From the way people treat their surroundings to the care that goes into food and music preparation in the most modest settings, it’s something that’s really stuck with us.
ES: As for what I’m craving, this might be particular to New York but I’m feeling the presence of branded events too much—I’d like more time with friends at home and in our favorite bars and restaurants, rather than these activities that are trying harder than they need to to bring us together.
RS: And relatedly: more events where people don’t need their phones out, in general. Ban the QR code menu.
ES + RS: We have one very sweet shared answer here, which is that we both had the Fanny at Chez Panisse cookbook growing up (the cookbook for kids from Alice Waters and Chez Panisse, named after her daughter).
ES: Otherwise for me I would say I’ve really come to appreciate how my parents taught me to cook: making it feel approachable and possible to do with whatever you have in the fridge.
RS: My parents were hugely influential on my love of music, as well as stories. My family is all Irish, and while I grew up in the Bay Area I spent a lot of my childhood visiting them in Cork and Philadelphia, which only reinforced that influence. When it comes to vinyl collecting and jazz, though, I really owe it to my grandparents’ friend and next door neighbor Harvey, in Philly. He was the one who really introduced me to both, and got me started with my first jazz records. We now have his whole collection at home.
ES: Rowan just shared a new playlist of self-described cozy tracks that he’s been listening to recently, and I’ve been keeping it on pretty constantly. My favorite discovery from it might be an album by Buddy Ross.
RS: Underrated album from last year. He’s the synth player who did the tune Frank Ocean used in the interludes on Blonde. Steve Gunn’s Music for Writers is another newer one we’ve had on a lot at home, or on road trips. We’ve also been playing even more J. Dilla at home than usual in recent months too, because I finally read Dilla Time by Dan Charnas last year – and because of D’angelo’s passing.
ES: This is a hard one! With mixed results I’m trying to incorporate more routine into life, which for me is quite different every day. Taking a few minutes in the morning to draw our blinds, have coffee, wash my face, ignore my phone, and not to get swept up into the day too immediately always feels like a good start.
RS: Walking. I like to journal and try to do breathwork when I can but have a hard time finding a rhythm with either if I’m honest. I find walking alone or with our dog, taking in my surroundings as I go, is a way I can feel grounded any time.
RS: Later this month we’ll be bringing Mon Petit Canard record selections and menu to Colbo Next Door: join us there on March 19 from 5pm-late.
ES: Rowan started writing a newsletter recently on Substack: I would recommend everyone subscribe to Time Signature for its bimonthly words and music.
Stepping into the day with our friend Leigh Patterson, a writer, editor, and founder of Moon Lists—who we recently collaborated with on a special booklet of “Prompts for the Morning.”
We joined Leigh where she’s spending the winter tucked into nature and working on writing projects between travels for her studio, LUCCA, which makes books, develops editorial concepts and research, and and creative strategy for brands, artists, and institutions.
In their hundred-year-old bungalow, Marta Gallery founders Benjamin Critton and Heidi Korsavong begin the day the way many of the objects in their gallery invite us to live: with presence.
Their mornings move through familiar routines: watering the plants; their dog Wiley returning from the garden carrying the scent of marigold; two oat-milk lattes made on a well-worn Breville.
These are the same instincts that guide Marta: an openness to the lived-in, the tactile, the in-between spaces where art and daily life meet. Below, they reflect on the small, sensory rituals that set their days in motion.
Earlier this year, we had the pleasure of hosting chef Andres Giraldo Florez for a special Canyon dinner in Echo Park. Snail Bar, his Oakland restaurant (and one of our all-time favorites), is known for food that feels both unfussy and surprising, comforting and intuitive.