As I’m writing this newsletter (on Sunday morning, because I am a procrastinator until the end) I am sitting at our dining table with Ben having coffee. Our dog, Edie, is whining at my feet, because she wants to be taken out. We’re playing some twinkly, plinky music. Ben is sketching. I am writing. There are a couple of dishes in the sink—the remains of us having a friend over for latkes and antipasto last night. And at the risk of losing all of my readers with this next sentence, it is everything I ever dreamed of.
But if you had asked me if I thought I’d be here last year, I would have said no, because I didn’t believe life moved like that—especially not for me. This time last year I was sure I would be on my own for a while. Maybe not forever, but for a very long time. I was half-heartedly dating someone to fill the time. I wouldn’t dare to dream that I’d have an apartment with a dining table in it, let alone be blessed with a partner sitting across from it. I never thought I’d be able to reorient my life around food and family in such a meaningful way. And yet, here I am, just 365 days later. If you told me, I’d never believe it.
I’ve recently realized I’ve come to the age and success level in my career where people ask you what you wish you could tell yourself in your early 20’s. I’ve had pretty good answers to that question over the years, many of which I’ve laid out in this very newsletter. But this year, I’ve realized that one answer kinda trumps them all: “Give it a year,” I’d tell myself. “You will be shocked by how quickly things can change.”
The holidays always bring reflection on the past year, and I can say with my whole chest that where I am is unbelievable. Not because it’s remarkable, but because I literally sometimes wake up in the morning and can’t believe that I’m here. So many things have clicked into place, and even though I sometimes don’t know how to deal with the happiness I feel, most days I’m grateful.
In the next few days, I’ll gather with family and reconnect over heaping trays of lasagna, and tripe, and antipasto, and cardone, and glass after glass of red wine. I’m thrilled to be able to show Ben his first true Italian-American Christmas. And I’ve been thrilled to be able to share my family recipes with you here.
I can’t wait to see what the new year brings, because I now know how much things can change in just 52 short weeks. But what I can promise is that there will always be room for seconds. Because as much as things can change, they also do stay the same in so many beautiful ways.
Happy Holidays. I’ll see you all in January.
xx
I'm always interested in people's/significant other's first true Italian-American Christmas...Hope your man can handle it!! Get him earplugs!! J/k...he'll love it...what's NOT TO LOVE?? TRIPE??!! Come on. Buon Natale from Chicago!!
p.s. Your Sunday Sauce writings and cooking videos are awesome 👌🏽