Fun, Familiar Food, and the Feeling I’m Chasing
Dear friend,
I’ve been thinking a lot about fun lately. Remember that word? Fun?
In an attempt to steer the ship towards such moments, I impulsively bought Stuart and me matching his-and-her Christmas sweaters to wear over the holiday yesterday. Complete with deer and all! Though they’re a bit silly, he thinks I’m a bit ridiculous, and the sweaters are not exactly flattering to form, it still felt like the right move — because in the hustle and bustle of obligations, I want to remember that life can also be a bit silly.
While my personal ideas of fun may be different than yours (my beloved kitchen dance parties to 90’s music, for example), I like to picture us all making sure there’s plenty of time for joy, laughter, and comfort in the coming weeks. This is part of the reason why, until the menu demands it on Christmas Eve, I’m going back to cooking basic food that feels like home. Simple foods that make us happy.
Here’s what I cook when I want home to feel like home.
… not for flash or performance, but for care for the family. For pleasure! For joy! Dare I say — for fun.
In your world, beans may not be fun (we’re going to have to agree to disagree on that point), but having these foods at the ready most certainly is. It means nourishing meals, time together at the table, and the pleasure of wellness — all, without a doubt, fun in their own way.
At the very least, these foods serve as fuel for the real fun: those ’90s dance parties…
Regarding that gorgeous roast beef from the video…
This is a favorite past Cooking Community recipe and one that we return to time and time again. Not only does it take a single minute to prepare, but it is then kept in the refrigerator and sliced and enjoyed as needed.
Ingredients:
5-pound top round beef roast or sirloin roast
2 tablespoons olive oil
3 tablespoons herbes de Provence
1 tablespoon sea salt
1 tablespoon black pepper
Instructions:
Let the roast come to room temperature.
Heat the oven to 400 degrees.
Drizzle the olive oil over the roast and sprinkle with the herbes de Provence, sea salt, and black pepper. Use your hands to massage the herbs into the roast. Set on a baking tray.
Place the roast in the preheated oven and bake for 20 minutes.
Turn the oven temperature down to 250 degrees and let the roast cook for an additional 30 minutes (40 if you like your roast more well-done).
Remove the roast, cover it with foil, and let the roast cool to room temperature before transferring it to the refrigerator.
When you’re ready to enjoy the roast, mix together the horseradish, mustard, and shallot together in a small bowl. Serve the roast sliced as thinly as possible with the dressing.
“Suppose we did our work like the snow, quietly, quietly, leaving nothing out.”
Capturing that feeling…
I find myself with an appetite for times past, and much to my frustration, have yet to pinpoint when or why. I only know the feeling that I seek after — one of memory, touched with simplicity and a desire. I know the sensation when I feel it; perhaps you, too, know the feeling of searching for something you can’t name? I’ve begun to keep a list in my phone of songs, books, movies, or ideas that come to mind and seem to steer me in the right direction. It currently reads like this:
Old jazz music
You’ve Got Mail (movie)
“Reflecting Light” by Sam Phillips (song)
Reading through old blog posts of bloggers I used to follow (such as Homestead Revival)
New York (never even been there, so this one doesn’t make sense, but I can feel it)
A Good Year (movie)
Old magazines
Ray LaMontagne (music)
This may perhaps sound to you like an absolute hodgepodge of a list, and perhaps it is just that: a small collection of pieces that I love that delight me or fascinate me in a way. Perhaps it is nothing more than nostalgia for when life was simpler, or perhaps a vintage version of fun — when I worked at the garden house, was becoming a new homemaker, and began to build my family with pieces of life I loved. Whatever it is, I long for it. I wish to saturate my days with its presence, and though I can’t name it, I thirst for it.
Kindred spirits, what is this, and how do I cultivate more of it? When present, it seems to soften the edges of daily living.
Merry Christmas, Mr. Bublé…
Even if you don’t love Christmas music, and don’t love Michael Bublé, I’d encourage you to at least listen (loudly) to “Ave Maria” on this album. Rest in the beauty and peace of it! I’ve listened to this album no less than 8,172 times, and this song still gives me shivers. What a gift music is!
My hope is that this letter finds you with your table, and heart, full.
