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The Longreads Questionnaire, Featuring Jaya Saxena

20 August 2026 at 11:00
two-panel graphic with author Jaya Saxena on left and image that reads "The Longreads Questionnaire: Jaya Saxena" on right

I was sad last fall when I read and recommended Jaya Saxena’s final story for Eater. Saxena is a food writer the Longreads editors have followed for years, and a journalist I’ve always counted on for food writing that both informs and entertains; she goes deep on aspects of cuisine, dining, the restaurant industry, and food culture in a way that’s relatable and unpretentious. (She’s also the series editor of The Best American Food and Travel Writing anthology; you can preorder the 2026 edition now.) So I was glad to hear, earlier this year, that Saxena and other former Eater writers were cooking up something new.

That something is Ravenous, a worker-owned, subscriber-supported food and culture site founded by Saxena, Amy McCarthy, Ashok Selvam, Courtney E. Smith, and Frances Dumlao. The five journalists are “sick and tired of the conversation around food being reduced to AI-generated pablum, ‘best of’ lists, and influencer-driven trends,” and are building a home for the kind of thoughtful, curious reporting that’s become harder to publish in a broken media landscape. Or, as they put it: food media with teeth.

Next week, Ravenous launches a monthlong fundraiser, so now is the perfect time to support the site. Seven dollars a month, or $70 a year, gets you access to everything they publish; higher-tier plans come with more perks. (Sign up for the Regular plan—$25 a month, or $250 a year—and you get to give the Ravenous raven a nickname, which they include in their Sunday newsletters.)

If anyone can build a publication around engaging, relevant food reporting and storytelling, it’s Saxena and this crew. Have a look around Ravenous and consider subscribing. But be warned: Don’t browse when you’re hungry.

—Cheri Lucas Rowlands


Where did you grow up?

I was born and raised in New York City, and aside from a brief stint in New Orleans for college, I’m still here. Except now I’m over in Queens instead of my hometown of Manhattan.

What places feel like home?

Aside from my actual apartment and the one I grew up in: Various NYC beaches, the backyard of my local bar, a punk show, Ray’s Pizza & Bagel Cafe on St. Mark’s Place, and one specific rock in Central Park.

Other than family members, who or what has shaped you the most?

For high school I went to a Quaker school in Manhattan, and though I don’t consider myself religious in any way, Quaker values began shaping my future politics then. It’s where I first started learning about the value of consensus-based community decision making, and given that this was in the early 2000s, anti-war and anti-violence politics. I even remember a teacher making the case that cars should be banned in Manhattan. It was a big influence on my politics and value systems.

What is your favorite time of day?

To work, right after I wake up, around 8 a.m., when my mind hasn’t filled with the noise of the day. Otherwise, early evening when it’s still light out, and everything is just beginning.

What are you really good at?

Untangling necklaces.

What’s the best gift you’ve ever received?

One year my wife bought me a Cameo of the cow from First Cow, whose handler fed her a treat in my honor. The video is one of my most prized possessions.

Describe your favorite meal.

Of course as a food writer this is tripping me up, because are we talking about a single great meal I’ve experienced, or a dish I could eat every day? If it’s the former, it’s the time my wife and I walked into a random seafood counter in Valencia, Spain, and spent the night eating sardines in garlic oil and sparkling wine from ceramic cups. If it’s the latter, my mom’s mac and cheese.

Sound or silence? (And if sound, what sound?)

I’m a city kid, so too much silence scares me. I need the background noise of people on the street to get anything done.

Where do you do your best thinking?

In the shower or walking around listening to music.

What journey—physical, creative, intellectual, or otherwise—has meant the most to you?

In 2018, my wife and I traveled with my dad to his hometown in India. It was the first time he had been back since before I was born, and being able to experience that with him was so important. We also ate absolutely the best kebab I’ve ever had in my life. Maybe I should have put that as my favorite meal.

Where do you like to read?

On the subway.

What’s the last rabbit hole you disappeared into?

My friend recently introduced me to the case of Judy Smith, a woman who went missing during a trip to Philadelphia and was discovered murdered in the woods outside Asheville, North Carolina. I have now spent a lot of time reading conspiracies about what happened to her.

Name three publications you enjoy reading these days.

Defector has fantastic culture coverage, I love every issue Cake Zine puts out, and some of the best money I’ve spent recently is on the monthly print issue of The Onion. 

What’s one longread that you can’t stop thinking about?

This piece in The New Yorker by Lauren Collins about El Mordjene, an Algerian hazelnut spread that white French people are being very racist about. It’s just such a good exploration of how something innocuous becomes the center of a culture war. I was also thrilled to find the spread at an Egyptian grocer in my neighborhood, and sorry white French people, it is better than Nutella.

What was the last book you read?

I had somehow never read Interview With the Vampire by Anne Rice, but after watching the TV series my friends and I decided to read it together. 

What piece of nonfiction are you most proud of writing?

“The Food That Makes You Gay,” for Eater. I had editors that really trusted me to follow my instincts, and I managed to thread together some things I had an inkling were related. I’m also just glad I could get a full throated defense of bodily autonomy and the right to change one’s body in a piece that started out talking about straight men being afraid to eat bananas in public.

What’s your most reliable way to get creatively unstuck?

Walk away from the computer. I just need to do something else, anything else, for a while.

Who’s a writer you turn to when you need some inspiration?

Reading just about anything will definitely help me, but I love Helen Rosner’s food writing. And I tend to listen to a lot of music when I need inspiration, so as far as lyricists go, probably Aimee Mann, Fiona Apple, Joni Mitchell, Prince, and Paul Simon.

What words do you overuse?

I write pretty conversationally, so I sprinkle in a lot of “just” and “of course” and “perhaps” that I usually have to go back and delete.

What’s your favorite guilty pleasure?

I am a firm believer that there is no such thing as a “guilty” pleasure (unless it’s like, continuing to read Harry Potter after J.K. Rowling has made it clear that doing so supports her transphobic work). No one should feel guilty about doing something that brings them joy. But in terms of indulgences that make little sense to others, I love a Hershey’s Cookies ‘N’ Creme bar.

What superpower would you like to have? 

Generously, the power to instantly heal others. Selfishly, the power to have three cocktails and sleep through the night.

What animal or nonhuman being do you most identify with?

Any time I see a photo of a magpie standing on its nest made of shiny, pretty things, that’s me.

If you have a free solitary hour in your day, what do you typically do?

Unfortunately, I’m probably looking on my phone. I have a very dumb “project” where I am trying to train my Instagram algorithm to show me the absolute worst videos out there. But I am trying to get better about doing things like taking a walk to the river, or practicing a new hobby (my latest one is trying to learn some card tricks).

What five items would you place in a time capsule?

A copy of The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy, a bootleg Knicks champion shirt, a fortune teller fish, a bottle of 4711 cologne, and a DVD of Velvet Goldmine.

What does your writing space look like?

You should know for this photo I am standing directly against my bed, which my cats sit on all day and scream at me from. You should also know half the time I’m not even here, and instead writing with my laptop on the couch.


Jaya Saxena is an IACP Award-winning, James Beard Award-nominated writer and editor, and a lifelong New Yorker. She enjoys covering the intersections of food and immigration, business, history, policy, queerness, and just about every way we use food to say something about ourselves. She is the series editor for The Best American Food and Travel Writing. Her work has appeared in Eater, Slate, Gourmet, GQ, The New York Times, Defector, and more. You can email her at jaya@weareravenous.com.


The Longreads Questionnaire, Featuring Kimon de Greef

28 July 2026 at 11:00
two-panel collage with author portrait of kimon de greef on the left and graphic that reads "The Longreads Questionnaire: Kimon de Greef" on the right

I was introduced to Kimon de Greef’s work this spring when I was producing our Longreads questionnaire with Patrick Radden Keefe. In his response to a question on the last book he read, Keefe mentioned de Greef’s “totally wild” book called The Ego Trip: Psychedelic Toads, a Trail of Deaths, and the Guru Who Peddled Transcendence. I immediately googled it and requested a copy. With a title like that, how could you not?

Buy on Amazon or Bookshop

The Ego Trip, which will be released on August 4, expands on the story de Greef explored in his 2022 New Yorker feature, “The Pied Piper of Psychedelic Toads.” It’s as fascinating as the title promises: a deeply reported book on the rise and fall of a Mexican doctor who built a psychedelic movement around smoking the secretions of the Sonoran Desert toad.

De Greef’s other stories are just as compulsively readable, dropping us into worlds that most of us have never even thought about and introducing us to memorable characters: There’s a Syrian immigrant trapper in New York who communicates with raccoons and refuses to kill them, and a Guyanese importer trying to do right in a world of songbird smuggling. There’s a Native American woman unable to harvest wild white sage on Southern California land stripped bare by poachers, and miners searching for leftover gold in South Africa’s illegal mines.

What ties this reporting together is de Greef’s eye for complex stories in offbeat industries and underworlds, and his interest in the tensions between desire and regulation, love and exploitation. A journalist from South Africa, de Greef also co-authored the book Poacher, a firsthand account on the illicit abalone trade.

Next week, we’ll have an excerpt from The Ego Trip for you. In the meantime, dive into de Greef’s questionnaire and get to know the author behind the book.

—Cheri Lucas Rowlands


Where did you grow up?

I was born in London and grew up in Cape Town, South Africa.

What places feel like home?

My parents returned to South Africa when I was 1. We lived in a neighborhood called Observatory. I moved back here to live in a student house in my early 20s, and a few years ago I returned for a third time with my wife, who I met here too. At this point I might be in Obs forever.

Other than family members, who or what has shaped you the most?

I studied ecology at university and gained an appreciation for the wonder of evolutionary biology—the idea, essentially, that all life is connected, both in the present and backward through deep time to a common ancestor. It blows my mind whenever I think of it. I later researched abalone poaching for a master’s thesis and it changed how I thought about history, politics, and the law. Since then I’ve often gravitated to stories where inequality and crime intersect with the natural environment.

What is your favorite time of day?

Currently it’s when my baby daughter wakes up early in the morning and I get to hang out with her.

What are you really good at?

Catching flies with my bare hands.

What’s the best gift you’ve ever received?

A wet suit from my family when I was 10. They buried it on the beach and my uncle Cleon pretended to discover it. I started bodyboarding afterward and it changed my life in many ways.

Describe your favorite meal.

My late grandmother Vonni’s chicken guvetsi, a Greek dish made with orzo noodles. It’s been my favorite since before I can remember.

Sound or silence? (And if sound, what sound?)

I wish I could write in silence but my office is on a busy street and I’m unusually sensitive to noise, so I use noise-canceling headphones. These days I’ve been alternating between ambient music and progressive psytrance—it felt appropriate for the book.

Where do you do your best thinking?

Often while free-writing longhand (I should do that more often) or after a swim.

What journey—physical, creative, intellectual, or otherwise—has meant the most to you?

I developed chronic foot pain in my late 20s. While I was recovering, I got an assignment from Audubon magazine to report on a conservation initiative deep in the rainforests of Madagascar. We would be hiking most of the way there. I was close to broke and badly needed the work. To get out, I walked something like 20 miles in a day. It was grueling but I made it through, and for whatever reason my freelance career seemed to gather momentum afterward.

Where do you like to read?

In bed early at night before falling asleep.

What’s the last rabbit hole you disappeared into?

I started reporting a story about toad poaching in 2020 and imagined it would be 2,500 words or so. That one pulled me in pretty deep.

Name three publications you enjoy reading these days.

The New Yorker. Harper’s for its distinctive sensibility and offbeat stories that nobody else would publish. I’ve also been enjoying the new magazine Now Voyager.

What’s one longread that you can’t stop thinking about?

“The Hunt For El Chapo” by Patrick Radden Keefe is a certain platonic ideal for me. Panoramic reporting and a sense of effortless intimacy with material that’s notoriously difficult to source. Plus the writing is incredibly smooth.

What was the last book you read?

I just finished Norman Maclean’s A River Runs Through It. I had read the title story but not the final one, about a young man’s summer job in a logging camp. It’s so singular in tone and so richly observed and reminded me how beautiful and timeless writing can be. 

What piece of nonfiction are you most proud of writing?

A story I did for The New Yorker about illicit gold mining in South Africa, something I’d wanted to write about for many years and am hoping to dig into further.

What’s your most reliable way to get creatively unstuck?

Jumping in the sea. Sitting in a sauna. Talking about it with my wife.

Who’s a writer you turn to when you need some inspiration?

John Steinbeck, particularly Cannery Row. I enjoy his humor and character sketches, but most of all I love how he writes about animals and biology. 

What words do you overuse?

“Marginal,” “entrenched,” “booming,” “illicit.” Since writing about psychedelics, “radically” and “profoundly.”

What’s your favorite guilty pleasure?

At risk of sounding like an old man, watching archival cricket footage on Facebook.

What superpower would you like to have? 

The gift of easy sleep.

What animal or nonhuman being do you most identify with?

I appreciate the stoicism of donkeys and the playfulness of seals.

If you have a free solitary hour in your day, what do you typically do?

Go for a walk in the neighborhood or exchange growls with my daughter.

What five items would you place in a time capsule?

A cricket bat, a ball, the rules, and two wickets (should be more but we’re out of space) so that the game can be reconstituted after the apocalypse.

What does your writing space look like?

After working from home for more than a decade, I now share an office with a documentary filmmaker just up the road from where I live. It has big windows and boxes of notes on the floor for my next book project and is upstairs from a good coffee shop, which is unfortunate because right now I’m not drinking caffeine.


Kimon de Greef is a journalist from South Africa and the author of The Ego Trip, an investigative nonfiction book about psychedelic toads, published by Doubleday. His work has appeared in The New Yorker, New York, The New York Times, The Guardian, Guernica, National Geographic, and other publications. He has coauthored a book about abalone poaching and holds a conservation biology master’s from the University of Cape Town.


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