A New Personality for Spring

Last weekend I hosted a little dinner party for a few friends, as a sort of half-attempt to host a Seder (several days late) and a weak welcome to Spring (it was still very cold outside). It was the first time in a long time I hosted more than two people at once, the first time in a long time I set the table with napkins, the first time in a long time I spent a full two days cooking in advance.

Because it was technically still Passover, I made several of my favorite foods that, similarly to Thanksgiving, I only make once a year: chopped liver, matzo ball soup, a brisket with horseradish and shallots, crispy potato kugel and charoset (which everyone liked so much they said “you should sell this” which sparked a conversation about “who would buy charoset 365 days a year?” which then led us to calling it “Mother’s 365 Charoset,” which, incidentally, is very good stirred into oatmeal). There were also roasted carrots and fennel, plus, what turned out to be one of my favorite chickens in recent memory: a whole chicken cut up, seared and quickly roasted after being doused in citrus juice and vinegar, among other things. 

My friend Julia was visiting and she asked if there was anything she could do to help with the Seder over the weekend, while in the same breath reminding me I’ve “never done anything in advance in my life.” Well, I told her, in fact there are things you can do to help in advance, because this is the new me. The new me that spends two and a half days preparing so I no longer do everything the day of. Now, I take my time, properly salting the brisket two days ahead, braising it one day ahead. I make the chicken broth on Friday for a Sunday Seder and order my handmade matzo from Elbow on Wednesday to make sure they don’t sell out. I’m thinking so far ahead, I have already begun to plan for the holidays, making sure we have enough chairs for this year's Thanksgiving. 

Yes, it’s true, it takes me longer to do just about everything these days, and yes, of course it’s because I have less free time (while there are famously 24 hours in a day, I now feel like maybe five of them are usable, six if I’m lucky). But perhaps more importantly, finally having discovered the joy of doing something slowly, I’m actively and intentionally taking more time to do things. If time is our greatest currency, the concept of taking more time to do something because I have less time feels like the most luxurious thing I could possibly imagine. 

If I had to do it all in six hours, believe me I would, could and have. But I didn’t, and it was bliss. I went to four different grocery stores and one farmers market (twice). I bought marzipan fruits from the Italian bakery, I pushed Charlie on the swings and let him fall down repeatedly on the playground, I got bodega tulips. I spent a full two (and a half) days cooking in my kitchen, not because anything I was doing was that elaborate or complicated, but because I wanted to. For the first time in what feels like forever, I was not pressed for time because I took all the time I needed, allowing for the chaos of a toddler’s schedule, the delays of a holiday weekend line at Paisano’s, the horror of realizing I didn’t have any dill mid-matzo ball making. It was all still appropriately, classically hectic, but to me, it somehow felt like the true definition of leisure.

In a completely uncharacteristically me move, by the time everyone arrived at 4:30 (an excellent time for a Sunday meal), everything was done (if you were at dinner and read this and remember it differently, I’ll deny it). The wine was properly chilled, the chopped liver was finished with chives and set out just-so, the brisket had taken its second shift in the oven to brown and crisp, the matzo ball soup needed nothing more than celery leaves, the sour orange chicken was minutes away from falling off the bone as intended. I outsourced dessert (Crispy Chocolate Cake and a gorgeous coconut cake brought by two friends who are exquisite bakers) and there was really nothing left to do except finish the salad (which I forgot about, never made it to the table). As I watched my son steal pieces of matzo from my friend's baby Sylvie enough times to make her cry, I felt as relaxed as I could feel for a person who never quite feels relaxed.

This might seem completely unremarkable to some of you, the meal preppers, the do-aheaders, the people who year after year ask me how far in advance they can make mashed potatoes (stop making your mashed potatoes in advance, but you can make them three days ahead if you must). But if you, like me, prefer to invite people over at 2pm for dinner at 7pm, this felt special, like I perhaps could have an entirely new, evolved, slow-paced personality. It might not last beyond last weekend, but remembering the pleasure of what’s possible– basking in the luxury of time–  is enough to make me try again. 

Suggestion Box

Bringing back a relic from the early newsletter days, I decided it’s time to re-up the proverbial suggestion box. Things I enjoy that I think you might, too. 

I recently ordered a package of ground chicken from Farm to People labeled “ancestral blend,” mostly because I was so charmed by and curious about the name. It’s the light and dark meat, with skin, gizzard, heart and liver ground in, too. I made meatballs with it and while you can taste the liver, it’s subtle. I very much love the idea of using all the parts of the chicken. Is this a thing? I had not seen it before. 

A little Spring playlist if you, like me, have found yourself in a musical rut these days. 

Every year at this time I’m reminded of how great it is to receive a box of citrus from California (good as a gift to others or yourself). Now is the time, clementine, tangelo and mandarin lovers. I’m partial to Friend’s Ranch because I visited their small family farm years ago and now we're bonded for life, plus, their citrus is fabulous.

Speaking of great gifts, A VERY GOOD SAUCE is back for your shipping pleasure. Available in regular 3-packs, or in a chic, deluxe PASTA NIGHT package, complete with a jar of chili flakes and my favorite anchovies for draping over lightly dressed spaghetti (also included). Thank you to all sauce enthusiasts who have been so patient while we navigate the beginnings of launching this sweet little brand. More soon, we promise! 

A reminder to sign up for A Little Newsletter (thank you for the reader submitted name suggestion), where starting next week I’ll be sharing weekly ideas/recipes for what to feed a baby based on my limited experience of feeding one baby. 

This woman’s instagram. I’m not really participating on Instagram like I once was because it drains me emotionally and intellectually, but this…..this I love!!! 

If you’re New York adjacent, get thee to Doves Diner (fka The West Taghkanic Diner). Ever go to an old diner that’s now a new diner and say “I wish the food was a little less complicated. I wish this was just a really solid, well-priced menu full of great versions of classic diner food”? Recently re-opened by one of my favorite people, Lauren Stanek, and her business partner Emma Rosenbush, Doves is this, humbly exceeding all expectations. Among the other things available, I’m especially delighted by the tiny beers– which I find to be the right amount of beer to drink with a perfect tuna melt on rye, also available. 

Now, for the Sour Orange Chicken recipe. Thanks for being here and see you next week for the springy soup recipe everyone asked about over the weekend (chicken feet optional but recommended).