Feed Me

Feed Me

Why is OpenAI making Aimé Leon Dore-looking merch?

Plus: There are at least four New York media summits this fall, a Brooklyn restaurateur heads to a Williamsburg luxury development, and more.

Emily Sundberg's avatar
Emily Sundberg
Jul 16, 2026
∙ Paid

Hello, everyone. The skies above New York City are sallow and smoky. But according to the Air Quality Index, it’s nothing compared to the hazardous A.Q.I. in much of the Midwest. I predict an end-times sunset for the ages. Stay safe.

Today’s newsletter includes: A Brooklyn restaurateur opening in a Williamsburg luxury development, there are at least four New York media summits this fall, Teddy Kim on Ross McElwee’s Remake, my favorite bakery is hosting a sourdough workshop in Maine, and the owner of C.O. Bigelow explains why the West Village pharmacy is unusually busy this summer.

Before we begin, pop quiz: which half-zip is from OpenAI’s new merch store?

Half zips from Sporty and Rich, Aimé Leon Dore, Drake’s, and OpenAI.

Summer plans outside of the city:

Sarah, the founder of Knead Love Bakery, is hosting a gluten-free sourdough bagel workshop with Maine Grains. Knead Love is an extraordinary bakery – I like to get their dense, sticky cinnamon roll (made with Maine Grains buckwheat) at the Union Square Greenmarket and bite off hunks of it while browsing summer produce. Sarah’s workshop is part of The Kneading Conference, a three-day conference that brings together “graniacs” from all over the country. (July 23, Skowhegan, ME)
The brilliant Panayiota Soutis is hosting her second “Where are the Women Restaurateurs?” event at Toklas, a bakery in London. When I saw the first one play out on Instagram Stories, I had FOMO – Pani appears to have a strong sense of what her community in London wants. (July 27, London)
Audrey Falk (previously the sous chef at King) is hosting a two-day pop-up at Surf Exchange in Rhode Island. Tickets are $65, the menu is “Rhode Island Everything.” (August 1-2, Narragansett, RI)
Carissa’s now has vanilla bean and blueberry soft serve. (All summer, Sag Harbor)

Ross McElwee’s Remake might make you look at your own camera roll and ask “What really happened there?” By Teddy Kim

Stay Tuned is a Feed Me guest column about film and entertainment, written by Teddy Kim.

Last week I wrote a little about Remake, the new documentary from Ross McElwee. On Saturday, I saw the movie at Film Forum, and it was one of the most difficult and beautiful movies I’ve seen this year. I gave myself a headache crying through most of it. Remake picks up decades after McElwee’s 1986 film, Sherman’s March, and follows his attempts to see that documentary turned into a fiction feature. As those efforts stall, the focus shifts to the death of his son, Adrian, and becomes a meditation on their relationship in life and across Adrian’s past appearances in McElwee’s films.

Remake is a heart-breaking self-portrait of grief. But it’s also a self-portrait of an artist as an old man, at a moment when his faith in his life’s work is shaken to its core. McElwee has pointed a camera at the people he loves for fifty years and the film forces him to consider what that habit, taken this far, may have cost him. The film doesn’t quite make it explicit, but there’s a suggestion that McElwee’s compulsion mirrors the addictions that haunt Adrian.

“We may not all be autobiographical documentarians but I’d venture to say that at this point we all have years of text messages, thousands of photos on our phone, gigabytes of emails, and a whole digital life out there on the cloud.”

Early on in McElwee’s narration, he introduces this idea that the “reels” of his life have become disorganized, out of order, that what’s left are segments you could rearrange into any number of stories. Later in the film, there’s a note from Adrian in which he writes about the disorienting effect of seeing alternate versions of his own life.

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