When the Occupy Wall Street movement was born last September in Zucotti Park, just one and a half miles from my apartment in New York City, I started noticing some striking images on Twitter, Facebook and Instagram and so one day at lunch I walked down there.
It wasn't so much the now ubiquitous handmade signs protesting social and economic inequality, corporate greed, and corruption that drew me in, it was the everyday slices of life. People were living there. To a food writer, that triggers another thought: they are cooking and eating there, too. So I began to document these protest picnics, notebook and iPhone in hand.