Last Call Before the Stars Go Out

By Dina Novarr–

Sometimes the universe shows us exactly what we need to see, when we need to see it. Last week, three black holes were caught red-handed devouring massive stars from NASA’s James Webb Space Telescope. I mentioned this while talking to Laura Sanfilippo, who has spent 27 years perfecting the art of hospitality while the universe perfects the art of cosmic annihilation. In a way, we are witnessing both cosmic and societal black holes consuming brilliant stars: restaurant workers who bring flavor and culture to our communities, academics whose research could unlock tomorrow’s solutions, artists and dreamers whose contributions make life richer; all being pulled into systems that don’t value their light.

Those black holes were observed just as NASA’s proposed 2026 budget would slash the agency by nearly 25% in one year, cutting funding to its lowest level since Alan Shepard became the first American in space on May 5, 1961. Who was the first person in space? Soviet cosmonaut Yuri Gagarin, who made his flight 23 days earlier. We’re not just watching our scientific capacity diminish; we’re watching it retreat to the exact historical moment when America discovered we were second place.

Here’s the beautiful irony: NASA discovered these “extreme nuclear transients” that represent “the most energetic type of cosmic explosion since the big bang,” while simultaneously experiencing their own form of explosion right here on Earth. And for Laura, she is seeing this firsthand as she watches her industry devoured by forces equally invisible and equally destructive.

In a way, Laura gets it. She’s watched difficult guests lose their minds over “insignificant details.” But here’s the cosmic joke: those difficult guests are actually perfect preparation for living under an administration that treats human rights like a happy hour special—available for a limited time and subject to change without notice. 

“The hospitality industry can be a black hole for a lot of people,” Laura observes. Lo & Behold opened in January 2022 as “an unpretentious, warm, welcoming, accepting space,” everything America used to masquerade as before deciding fascism was more efficient than democracy. Laura’s bar became “the official after work bar of the industry” in Healdsburg, where exhausted hospitality workers decompress from shifts of emotional labor that would break most humans.

Her Dr. Feel Good cocktail, originally crafted by Marilin Rodriguez, as “a crushable, yet complex and bitter libation for our amaro loving industry crew”—suddenly becomes the perfect metaphor for survival in multiple collapsing systems. Laura’s version is bitter by design, because sweetness doesn’t last when you’re orbiting a collapsing black hole.

The real Dr. Feel Good isn’t the cocktail; it’s Laura’s refusal to let the darkness win. “We have the power to go right up to the event horizon and stand in our power and fight,” Laura declares. She should know because she’s been serving cocktails at the edge of the abyss for 27 years, perfecting recipes that make even a supernova palatable.

Cheers to the bartenders holding the line while the stars go out. They really know how to make anything bitter taste good.

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Dr. Feel Good

.75 oz Fernet Branca (medicinal bitterness for bitter times)

.5 oz Montenegro (Italian for “black mountain,” because green is just another color disappearing from Earth)

.25 oz Giffard Apricot (a whisper of fruit before the void)

.5 oz Tempus Fugit Crème de Banane (bananas are the ultimate representation of systematic exploitation of Latin nations, so every sip tastes faintly of military coups and economic imperialism)

.25 oz Carpano Dry Vermouth (dry like our tears)

6 drops allspice tincture (because everything is spiced with chaos now)

4 drops salt tincture (more tears, crystallized)

Splash of soda water (effervescence, while it lasts)

Shake everything but the soda for 5 seconds. Add the splash of soda and pour into a tumbler. Garnish with fresh lime zest, because even despair needs a citrus twist.

San Francisco-based Dina Novarr enjoys sharing her passion for fine wines, spirits, non-alcoholic craft beverages, and more with others.

Cocktails with Dina
Published on August 14, 2025