"Your Mama's Kitchen" transcript: Episode 12

Your Mama's Kitchen Episode 12: Hari Kondabolu

Audible Originals presents Your Mama's Kitchen, hosted by Michele Norris.

Michele: Welcome to Your Mama's Kitchen, the podcast where we explore how the food and culinary traditions of our youth shape who we become as adults. I'm Michele Norris. And I'm so glad you're back here this week. Our guest today is the standup comedian Hari Kondabolu. He's known for his brand of edgy political humor. He makes people laugh, but he also makes them think and maybe even squirm a little bit because he's not afraid to talk about the prickly stuff in life, like race or immigration or the tensions that exist in even the most loving households.

His parents came to America from South India more than four decades ago, and they settled in Queens. He grew up surrounded by immigrant families, households where parents from all over the world were trying to figure out this place called America.

In this episode, we hear about how Hari grew up in a household that held on to the traditions of his parent’s Telugu culture in the decor and the music, and especially in the food.

We hear about how his family balanced the excitement of being in a brand new place with the loss of the things—and the status—that they had to leave behind. And we hear how Hari finally got past his picky tastes to fully embrace the spicy and aromatic foods of India—especially, his mother Uma’s unbelievably delicious peanut chutney—and how he tries to put a spin on that in his kitchen today. All that's coming up, stay with us.

Michele: So I want to actually go inside your mother's kitchen. Miss Uma, I want to know what kind of kitchen she created. So can you close your eyes? Okay. And just in a few sentences, my mama's kitchen was. Describe it for me. What did it look like? What did it smell like? What do you remember?

Hari My mama's kitchen was chaos. Just flowers and powders everywhere. And most of them were either in old Maxwell House glass jars that, like, she re-used or like these steel bins that she would get from India, all filled with different flowers and lentils and things. And I just felt like it was always everywhere. Everything was always everywhere. It was it just always felt really, like, chaotic. And somehow the food would come out and it would be perfect. But I was always like, Wow, this feels like a lab. It was felt like a science lab. Yeah. And my dad always and this is, I think another thing about, you know, patriarchy and being spoiled. We never wanted leftovers. And the fact my mom put up with that is remarkable. I'm like, What kingdom do you think you're the ruler of, exactly? Like you can't make new dishes every day. We still have enough for tomorrow. So it was just she was constantly having to do more work than she should have. My mom was cooking different curries every night and my dad was so boring, so she always had to make the exact same things, handful of things that he liked, like a conveyor belt of the same things over and over again, same thing

Michele What was the same thing?

Hari It was like some kind of, like dal, like a lentil dish of some sort. And then there was something usually with chicken and then like a one of like a handful of different vegetable dishes that my dad liked, but it wasn't like as broad a range as she would have liked to just not be bored, you know, just to do something different. You know, back then, especially having two American kids in the house who grew up, you know, around other American children, you know, I wanted to eat with the kids at school, were eating, and I wanted spaghetti and I wanted macaroni and cheese and my mom. She was all about that. You know, it's funny that she was all about, well, you're American, so I guess you eat American food. And I never really developed a taste for that part of my mom's cooking, which is very embarrassing now. But at the time, I'm like, it was embarrassing to eat Indian food. It felt like, well, the other kids at school aren't eating

this, you know, and which is kind of absurd. Like they were probably eating their family's cuisine. The thing I loved, however, with South Indian cuisine was breakfast food. I still love South Indian breakfast food. And that's the thing that the stuff that my mom would make that I would be most excited about on Saturday and Sunday, we would have dosa like dosas are like crepes. There's different types of lentils that you would use to make different types of dosas and you could fill it with like a potato curry like, like with masala dosa or you could have it with like a ginger pickle and we would have have idli or we would have upma. But the thing my mom made, which was the best with the idli, they were great conduits for my mom's peanut chutney, which was the thing I still obsess over. It's one of my like top three, if not my favorite meal of all time is my mom's idli. The rice cakes, the steamed rice cakes with her peanut chutney, which nobody else makes.

Michele Wait, no one else makes it as good as your mother or just no one else makes—

Hari I've never had it from like it is a thing that exists, but like, usually it's just coconut chutney. Like, that's the standard. My mom's peanut chutney derives from a recipe, actually, I think from my father's part of India. They're from the same state of Andhra Pradesh. I guess the state split. So it's not Telangana and Andhra Pradesh, but the dish that she makes is actually something she she learned from his family. But then she added her own spins on it and she made it her own. You know, I had uncles who would talk about how like, Oh, your mom's peanut chutney is like an incredible thing. And I always loved it. But it was cool to know that other people also like, would request that. Just the most delicious thing in the world.

Michele So I have a hundred questions. First of all I want to know how she developed the recipe and we'll get to that in a minute. But I want to know a little bit more about what it is. So tell me about the rice cake and how it's served. Then you have the rice cake with the dosa or is that separate? And then where does the peanut chutney come in?

Hari They're like separate dishes. But like, often you can get them both together. Like we would have just idli or dosa. Sometimes she'd make both. But I always loved the idli days. They're steamed. It's a very specific kind of flour that is used that's actually quite pricey. But you can mix it, I think, with Cream of Wheat or something else. And you get like more for your buck, even though it's not as pure, it's when it feels more like fluffy. That means it's like been mixed with other things to kind of save costs. It's still delicious, but, you know, you grind up the lentils, you use the flour, you turn it into a kind of like a almost like a doughy paste kind of thing. And there are idli steamers where you like, well, pack in on the little idli molds and then you'll put it in the steamer and you let it steam. And then when it's ready, like the little cakes, rice cakes, and it's like bread. It's very soft. I like the taste, but it's, it's subtle. It's really what you mix with it initially. This is another very embarrassing thing. When I was a child, I would not want to eat the chutney, something I just because it looked different.

Michele You were a picky child.

Hari Very. It's...and my brother was so adventurous even as a kid with food, and I had to have my dosa with ketchup and sugar. I know it is. It's sacrilegious. And I and I did. It was like.

Michele Wait. Ketchup and sugar. I come from a—we eat grits in my culture. And there's a special name for people who put like sugar and ketchup on grits. And it's not nice.

Hari The grits parallel is actually pretty good. It's, I think, a similar kind of thing, even though they're like different textures, but the same kind of like, yeah—

Michele You put you put ketchup on... oh... oh.

Hari Oh, terrible, terrible. It was not something I ever –

Michele You just admit it in front of a microphone.

Hari Yeah. That's how much I trust you. And I believe in what you are doing. That I publicly admitted something that would get my South Indian card revoked. Yeah, just absolutely terrible. But that was. I mean, that was always a struggle, like the comfort with quote unquote, American food and wanting to eat what other kids are eating and then growing accustomed to those tastes. You know, the overly sweet. I almost needed something that was familiar to be able to eat something that maybe, you know, wasn't. As popular in the American mainstream. And it's a shame. It's a it's a kind of it's a sad thing to think about. And I wonder why my brother never had the same thing I had. How come my brother was less picky, my brother was more curious, and how come I was such a stick in the mud about it?

Michele What's the answer to that?

Hari I don't know. I mean, our personalities are like that. Like my brother is much more adventurous and has explored more than I have in life in general, not just with food. So the food is the least of it. So I think but his personality type is that like he needs to see for himself is to try it himself. And that the weird thing with me and my brother, in some ways, I'm definitely the older brother who leads by example and tries to do what's right. But in terms of like my brother has always listened to more interesting music than I have has read more interesting books, It reads much more voraciously like I would borrow my brother's clothes, like who has hand-me-ups? Do you know? I mean, like, that's not a thing. But my brother was always the one who would take a different path than whatever conservative way I was going. So often times he was the one that was making me open up my mind and try something different.

Michele I want to get back to the peanut chutney.

Hari Sure.

Michele So when she made these delicious rice cakes.

Hari Yeah.

Michele It was often accompanied by this peanut chutney. Always, always, always. And eventually you stop putting sugar and ketchup.

Hari Yes, that's correct.

Michele When you did that, Yeah. Did she just roll with that or she–

Hari Rolled with everything.

Michele Because I'm trying to imagine, you know, my mom, "Don't you put ketchup on my—don't, don't think about it. Don't do that." Did your mom just allow you to do this? Was she mumbling under her breath at the stove or did she just let you explore and know that you would eventually come back to her peanut chutney?

Hari I don't know if she knew I would ever come back for a peanut chutney, but she definitely let me explore. And she knew her kids were both very different. But there was this like assimilationist streak in my mom while also trying to preserve culture. It was always very fascinating how she adapted, right? Like we always had Indian breakfast food every weekend, right? But at the same time, she would take us to Burger King because she said, well, that's what Americans eat. They eat burgers. So I want you to be able to. And we're Hindu, so we're not even supposed to be eating beef. But mom was never a big fan of restricting our diet because she's like she said, she knew a lot of people who didn't eat beef that were terrible and she'd rather me eat beef and be a good human being. So that was kind of her philosophy on that.

Michele Sometime during his preteen years, Hari says there was a turn in his mother's relationship to the kitchen. After years of churning out that conveyor belt of curries, she started reading cookbooks and food magazines. She entered a phase of culinary experimentation.

Hari I remember at one point she started making meatballs, and that was a breakthrough. She actually was like, What else can I do? I remember all of a sudden meatballs started showing up and then fresh basil started showing up and then fresh parmesan cheese started showing up. And I'm like, What is like it became very different then, right out of the can.

Michele What was going on with her? Because sometimes when that happens, something else is behind that. What do you think was driving that period of experimentation? Was it just about pleasing Hari who wants spaghetti, or do you think she was going through a period of renewal or exploration on her own?

Hari I've thought about that. Like why? I think part of it was this is me, like making lots of assumptions, but I think at a certain point it's accepting this is what life is like. I'm not going to be a doctor. This is what life is. This is my family. This is my situation. What can I do to make the best of it? What can I do to enjoy the things that I have to do? And so she really started to enjoy cooking, which, you know, is funny to think about. But she got into the idea of how can I make the thing that I'm making more interesting? What can I do that hasn't been done? And there's been some hits and there's been some misses, but she's always tinkering. And I think that's part of like what makes the day to day more interesting to her. My brother, like, would say, like mom's cooking has gotten real good, really good. And I'd be embarrassed because I never really ate it, right? So I couldn't even say. But he's like, Yeah, the stuff that she's doing right now. Really, really interesting stuff. And he so he was the one that really caught it first, like, Oh, she's really playing around with styles and ingredients.

Hari She always found ways to adapt and so she could make it work here. So like I was still having idli, but it had ketchup on it. Or, you know, there were periods where I didn't have, you know, my grandparents around and the U.S. So my mom had to figure out a way, how do I teach this kid how to respect and take care of and be taken care of by older people? So she would get us people in our in our building would babysit us and there would be like older Jewish women, older Irish women, like people Like there was a group of sisters that used to watch us. They were all in their sixties and seventies. And I would ask my mom, like, Why would you do that? Like, I don't understand. And she's like, It's because you didn't have your grandparents around and I wanted you to learn this. And they were there and they were such sweet people and they were so good to you. So you know, that way you were still getting what I think you needed in your childhood. And I'm like, It didn't bother you that they were white, that their cultures were different They’re like no because the love that you have between like kids and older people, that kind of grandmother, grandfather love like that is something that has nothing to do with culture That's like beyond the culture. That's like this thing that's just universal and important for you to have. So she was always like that with everything. How do I get this to them in a way they can? You know, it might not be the way I got it, but as long as the end product is the same, he's eating idli. He knows how to respect older people. He knows how to, you know, balance the two. I've always admired her for that. I thought that was that that takes effort to figure out, you know, because my parents have always supported our Indian community and stuff. But the thing I've admired the most is that, you know, my dad ran a echocardiogram lab at Flushing Hospital. My mom worked at GE in the cath lab. She managed that lab and they trained and hired so many people of color, a variety of backgrounds. And it was intentional. It was always very deliberate to the point where my mom would tell me like she would get you take flak for some of the white nurses and people that worked in the hospital like Huma's having her affirmative action campaign again and she's hiring another person of color. And my mom was like, Hey, all the nurses are white. And I don't you don't see me complaining. You know, I understand that you're hiring your own. Well, this is how I do it. Like there something about my mom and dad always having that eye, which I admired. They saw the bigger picture, and they're not activists, You know, They would never see themselves as that. And they're not overtly political, perhaps in the way I am. But those are very political choices. Those are very deliberate choices.

Michele I take issue.

Hari Tell me.

Michele I take issue with what you just said.

Hari Which part?

Michele “My parents aren't activists.” Oh, yes, they were. They were stealth. They were doing their thing. Yeah, they were. And sometimes activism whispers, you know, it doesn't always march through the streets with a poster and a fist in the air.

Hari Right.

Michele It sounds like they very much were activists in their own space using the space that they occupied.

Hari That's right.

Michele To push the world forward.

Hari I don't think they would see themselves as that. But definitely the choices they were making were those are changing people's lives, like on a one on one level, like does it change institutions a little bit because they're working within institutions, But it's definitely changing the lives of individuals. It's definitely giving people chances. Again, it's stuff that you look at in hindsight and you're like, they were doing a lot of things. I think you're right. It was stealth activism.

Michele You have said, Hari, that you are funny because of your mother.

Hari Yes.

Michele Explain that.

Hari She has a very dark sense of humor and she very much uses humor to cope. Her parents have some of that. My grandmother was an incredibly sharp and funny to the point of like she was mean without realizing how mean she was. But she was quick. You know, like something comes out and you don't. I don't think she understood, like, wow, like it's on point, but unnecessary, you know, like just sharp. But she was quick. And my mom has always been quick. And the more painful and the darker something is, finding some way to laugh was a way to get out of it. And I think that has to do a lot with how much she lost. You know, she lost a career to be a female doctor in southern India in the 70s with her own practice. That didn't happen. You know, like that just didn't happen. The other women, the young women in the village, looked up to her, partly also because she was a tall woman. So she already stood out, she was as tall and taller than some men. So it was already kind of like she was unique in that regard. And she also was a classical Bharatnatyam dancer, South Indian dancer. She just did everything. But in addition to that, she was this incredible student and skipped a bunch of grades and was young and had her own practice as a woman in southern India. And it was this remarkable thing. And then to lose that, to have that trajectory and then all of a sudden you're in a new country and you're not working and you have kids and, you know, you keep trying to get back into being a doctor. But how do you do it with two kids? I mean, how do you deal with that?

Michele How did she deal with that?

Hari She laughed. She made jokes. She tried to find ways to release pain. And me and my brother are the same way we find our way out of a lot of pain with being able to say something funny and to make others laugh. It's not that we're ignoring what's there. It's just like clearly to me, like a sense of humor is an evolutionary benefit. Like there's no reason for us to have it if it didn't help us in some way. Right? And so that's something my mom has a tremendous amount of the ability to cope with a painful situation through laughter and then to kind of shake it off and try to move on with it. Like this is what the reality is. How do we adjust?

Michele When did you realize that your mom was funny? Do you remember a moment where she said or did something that you just you realized she is hilarious?

Hari I think it was college. You know, it's funny. I just never noticed it. It's just like that was life. And we always laughed a lot and it was always like kind of me, my brother and my mom and my dad. Less so. I think part of it was language, like my mom's English and our native language Telugu, like she's just very well spoken. But all that being said is probably at some point in college having perspective and being away from my really family for the first time and coming back or bringing friends from college back and you're realizing, wow, she's cracking everybody up. Like wow, this is my mom. There's a reason all my friends like her. And it hit me after the fact. And then also, I think being asked in interviews as a you know, as I was pursuing this comedy career, like, why are you funny? What made you funny? And then to really think about it: Who's the person that was able to make fun of us and it was hard for us to have a quick reply? It was Mom. She was so cutting and quick and just very quippy, you know?

Michele Is there something that you recall that your mom did or said that just knocks everybody out?

Hari I'm sure. I mean, there's one that she told me about. She was on an airplane and she had an aisle seat and on the other aisle seat on the other side of the aisle was an older Indian man. And to her right in the middle seat was an older Indian woman. And I guess they were husband and wife and they weren't sitting together. But she had noticed that he was being like very, very rude to her, rude to his wife, like throughout the line and in the airport was like snappy and stuff. And he asked if they could switch seats.

Michele So he could be next to his wife.

Hari Yeah. And my mom didn't want to give up her seat. I think part of it was he was in the window. He wasn't in an aisle. So she wanted the aisle also because her knees are bad. But also she didn't particularly like how he was treating his wife. So there was also no incentive to even put up with it. And so what she said to him is, "We come into this world alone. We die alone. You can handle this flight." (both laugh) She texted it to me and I just lost it. Like, that is an absurd thing to say over a very simple request. "We come into this world alone and we die alone. You can handle this." That's an example.

Michele (laughing) I can imagine if I overheard someone saying that on a plane, like oh, my God, she's The Matrix.

Hari It's literally like, that is my mom, the darkness of it. Like, even to just to insert death, the specter of death into the conversation is very much her. Me, my brother, and her—very dark sense of humor, especially about death and things like that. It comes from her.

Michele And when you decided to become a comedian, what was her reaction? Was that funny or not?

Hari I remember the first time I was on TBS, I was on Jimmy Kimmel Live! and it was 2007 and I was on TV and I didn't expect to be on TV. I took a day off from work, flew to Los Angeles, was on TV, flew back the next day from went for right from the airport, back to work and pretended nothing happened. Like it was kind of disbelief this was happening. So for everyone I knew, like whether it was the other comics in Seattle, none of whom had been on TV before, or all my friends, it was like, This is the greatest thing that ever happened and you were so great, and I can't believe you were so great. In the euphoria of like, My friend is on TV.

And I asked my mom what she thought, and she's like, You're better than that. You could do better.

Michele Oh, I'm sorry, I need a Band-Aid.

Hari And she was right. You know, the thing is, I didn't want to admit I wanted to feel good about being on TV. Like this is a thing that happened. Same thing after my second appearance on TV and same thing after the third one. The first time she said something was perfect. So I had a half hour special for Comedy Central and we taped it in New York.

And I got a standing ovation for that TV taping in my hometown. And I saw her afterward. That was the only question I asked her was, how was it? What are your notes? And she's like, No notes. Like she just said, you did exactly what you were supposed to do.

Michele Okay. About that peanut chutney.

Hari Yes, let’s talk about the peanut chutney.

Michele So what was so delicious about it? Because every time you talk about the peanut chutney. Your eyes dance. I mean, it's like you can see even without you telling me how to. Yes, I can see in your face what it means to you. What is so special about this peanut chutney?

Hari I mean, think like roasted peanuts, a little gooey, like sweet and peanuty. He and a little spicy mom sometimes will make it too spicy. And I would start hiccupping within seconds, so she'd always lower it for me and, like, the way it would absorb. Into the Italy. Just that. Oh, my God. It was something about the taste of the two together. Also, that just. It was divine. And honestly, I felt like it aged well. Like the next day, if you like, waited a day or two, it was almost better. It almost felt like it's set in a way that made it even. Yeah. Incredible. Oh, my God. Thinking about it now, I texted my mom before our interview to get the recipe both big in case we wanted to talk about what was in it, but also just so I knew it because I feel like I should know it.

Michele Because, you know, you have to give us the recipe.

Hari Oh, yeah. But I mean, the funny thing about Indian cooking oftentimes is it's inexact. It's like it's almost a feel, like whenever she talks about it she's like you put a handful of this and you feel a little ... and it's like it's not really, you know. And to be fair, it never tasted exactly the same. It always tastes, the core was the same, but it always was like a little more spicy than usual, a little sweeter. Or one time she mixed sugar and salt, which was which was awful. But like, generally it was, you know, it was you got the sense of it. But I always had a slightly different taste. Yeah.

Michele You know when someone has perfected a recipe, yeah. There's a little bit of strut when they serve it, you know what I'm talking about, like they put it on the table and then they just kind of walk to the side.

Hari And see what I…

Michele Have to see. And I know this is good. Let me just see how everybody reacts to this. Does your mom do that?

Hari I think she knows I don't see her struggling, but I think she knows. I mean, you know, people are requesting it. It's a pretty good sign. And especially when it's like my uncles, like my dad's brother in laws or, you know, family. It's like they've had enough types of chutney and things where like, there's a discerning palate. So if people are requesting yours, it's not just, Oh, I've never had anything like this before. It's like I've had a lot of things. This is one is the best, you know, which is great.

Michele And she knows that she's proud and…

Hari She knows they're the most important thing to her is that I love it. And so she makes it. It leaves specifically because I request it. And, you know, we don't live together anymore, obviously. And I have my my partner and kid, but she will bring it just because I request it just because like, I miss it. And yeah, every and every time it's this funny thing where it's like, I remember. I like being a kid. While eating it, while in the moment still enjoying it. It's like that thing that's always been there. Not the chutney initially, sadly, the fact it took me years to finally try that chutney then realized that I was missing something incredible. Very embarrassing.

Michele How old were you when you finally tried it?

Hari Probably high school. That's probably when I tried the peanut chutney. The fact it took that long. But when I had it, it was like, Oh, my God. And when I went to college, I remember that was the thing I missed the most.

Michele It's amazing how that little space in our home, that central space, that kitchen that is often like the beating heart in our homes, shapes who we become as adults. Mm hmm. How did that space shape and influence you?

Hari Well, one, it was one of the places where I'd have alone time with my mom because my father obviously wasn't going to go anywhere near there. So I actually had time alone with her. So I think having that time alone to talk to her and ask her questions and hear her perspective definitely informs my sense of the world. I think. Also looking back on it and it's funny that you don't even think about it when it's happening. Like I in hindsight, realize how loaded a space it was. Hmm. Like, I like I had said earlier, she. She didn't know how to cook. She had no interest in cooking. So you're seeing somebody who now cooks every day, multiple times a day and is both like both trapped by it, but is also trying to make the best of it. And I don't think I realized, like you grow up and you see your mom in the kitchen. You don't know. You just mom's in the kitchen making food. When you get the full context and you get older, you realize like that is a loaded thing. She's been in this kitchen a really long time and she never had the intention of being in it. It was never a thought in her mind that she was going to be cooking this much for anybody.

Michele How do you take that forward in the kitchen that you're now with your partner creating?

Hari I'm trying to be better. My partner still cooks the majority of the meals, so I think, how can I help one? I've finally learned some basic things. I can make breakfast, I can make pancakes, I can make eggs, I can handle breakfast, I can feed my child. I can pack my child's lunch.

Michele You're a parent now. So what kind of kitchen are you trying to create that will have the right kind of influence on your own child?

Hari One where he sees both his parents feeding him. One more. He sees both his parents preparing food for him. I mean. I like when he eats. It feels good when he's eating.

Michele So about that peanut chutney?

Hari Yes.

Michele Is that going to be on on your kitchen table at some point?

Hari Yes. That is something I want to be the one that makes the Italy and the peanut chutney. I want that to be my dish. That's the thing I can do every Sunday. I'm going to make that. And because who else is going to that? I don't want it to go when my mom goes. I want that to be something that is ours. Me and my partner talk a lot about how do we preserve culture, especially like my South Indian Telugu culture, which if you don't see it, if you're not around it all the time, then you know it dies. And I mean, language is going to be hard enough to preserve like I don't even speak it very fluently, but Telugu. So at least with food, there's something, there's something about that. And. I don't want to lose that. So I will be learning it and I will be making it. And if I can get anywhere near just anywhere near how good my mom is, it doesn't need to be exact. It doesn't need to be perfect. But just the essence of it, I'd be happy.

Michele I have loved talking to you, Hari. Thanks so much.

Hari Absolutely, Michele. Thank you.

Michele Now, you know, we had to get that recipe for the peanut chutney. And Harri's mom kindly agreed to give it up. She also shared her recipe for idly those little round cakes that Hari loved to have for breakfast on weekend mornings. You can find those recipes as well as a few other tips from Uma Kondabolu on my Instagram page at Michele underscore underscore Norris. That’s two underscores. Feel free to share your own chutney recipes or your own interpretations of idli. And if you happen to make that Kondabolu peanut chutney, we want to hear about it. Send your pictures and your secret ingredients. We want all of it.

As for me, I hope I get to meet Uma Kondabolu one day. She sounds like an amazing woman. I love how she used her sense of humor as a coping mechanism. Her humor helped her get through when life didn't turn out how she hoped it would, and that's also a recipe worth holding on to. Thanks so much for listening to your mama's kitchen. I'm Michele Norris. Come back to see what we are serving up next week. Until then—here’s a roll call of the folks who make this show possible. They’re the dream team.

Michele This has been a Higher Ground and Audible Original produced by Higher Ground Studios. Senior Producer Natalie Rinn, Producer Sonia Htoon, and Associate Producer Angel Carreras. Sound design and engineering from Andrew Eapen and Roy Baum. Higher Ground Audio's editorial assistants are Jenna Levin and Camila Thur De Koos. Executive producers for Higher Ground are Nick White, Mukta Mohan, Dan Fierman and me, Michele Norris. Executive producers for Audible are Zola Mashariki, Nick D'Angelo and Anne Hepperman. The show's closing song is 504 by the Soul Rebels. Editorial and web support from Melissa Bear and Say What Media. Our talent booker is Angela Peluso and special thanks this week Clean Cuts in Washington DC. Head of Audible Studios Zola Mashariki, Chief Content Officer Rachel Giazza. And that's it. Goodbye, everybody. Come back next week and until then, be bountiful.

Copyright 2023 by Higher Ground Audio, LLC. Sound recording copyright 2023 by Higher Ground Audio LLC.