Happy Sunday, friends. It’s been…a week. Nothing insurmountable, just a pile-up of a lot of things at once. They all had one thing in common, which is that they were largely outside of my control. It started last weekend. A relationship that I’d actually been hopeful about (the first in a long time), came apart. Its unraveling felt as sad and mysterious as its beginning had felt bright and surprising. I guess it’s a mark of some sort of progress that I understood all…

Last weekend, inspired by Julia Turshen’s wonderful cookbook, I spent some time meditating on the idea of small victories. The theme has stayed on my mind this week, as I reflect on how much my approach to cooking seems to have changed in the last six months or so. “Adventurous” has never been a word that I’d use to describe my own cooking. Indeed, the word that I’d use to define my very early cooking efforts–which are chronicled in the archives of this…

I’m sending this weekend reading out into the world from a hectic Sunday, which also happens to be an underslept Sunday. The combination of those two things means that I’m short on words, but last weekend’s post—which wasn’t short on words—did leave me with some follow up thoughts. Two of them aren’t my thoughts. They’re impressions and observations that readers were kind and good enough to share with me. Libby wrote, I don’t know that we are ever finished with anything. We have…

It’s a gray, chilly morning here in NYC. The weather keeps creeping upwards into the seventies, teasing us with a hint of summer, and then drops down to mid-fifties and fog. It looks as though we’ll have a burst of warmth later this week, but Steven and I will be traveling for a wedding at that point. The upside of gray weather is that it always encourages me to turn inwards. I’ve tried to use my little pause before summer class to cultivate…