Nneka M. Okona

Korean food in Atlanta and Nigerian food in Chicago.

A family photograph — one with me cheesing harder than I ever have, wearing a frilly, powder blue dress and surrounded by my sisters and my parents — is the only tangible memory I have of the time I dined at the bygone Sylvia’s Restaurant in Atlanta.

Spending time outdoors doesn’t have to be predictable — sure, Georgia has a number of stunning hikes and waterfalls, but some of the state’s star attractions fall outside your typical day trip adventure.

During these quiet, still days of hunkering down at home versus traveling, fumbling through my pantry is like taking an adventure through the past.

Days after my 32nd birthday, I sat hunched over my computer typing feverishly into oblivion as the sky darkened outside.

My first reactions when the realities of the pandemic set in mid March was not to flounder or panic.

For many travelers, beginning to understand a new place hinges on how they gather information, whether visiting museums, talking to locals, or taking a walking tour to quickly take in all the must-see sights.

Summers in the South — where I was born and raised — are fond recollections of mine.

My legs and feet shivered with cold. I had underestimated how frigid a winter morning in Savannah could be.

The wide, bright smile and kind eyes of Mamadou Savané, owner of Sav’s Grill in Lexington, Kentucky, are the first things most customers walking into his restaurant see.

Spending time in nature has always felt like a freedom—one I couldn’t fully quantify.

My earliest memories of Cognac—save for watching adults on my mother’s side of the family clink glasses filled with Hennessy on the rocks—include dancing in glee to Busta Rhymes’ “Pass the Courvoisier” as a child.

Usually a bustling dining room, Twisted Soul Cookhouse & Pours on Atlanta’s Westside is now quiet for most of the week.

In the seaside city of Newport, Rhode Island, the corner where Farewell and Warner streets cross is sacred ground.

The lowcountry curried chicken dish was a favorite of FDR, but a bakery in Savannah, Georgia, has given it new life between bread.