The Sunday Digest 161
"I don't know, don't really care."
Welcome to The Sunday Digest — a free Sunday newsletter featuring long (and some short) reads, original columns, things I’ve saved over the last week, relaxing playlists, episodes releases, exclusive product drops, and more. Yes, you can reply to this email. I’d love to hear from you.
Sunday Read: For Celebrations, Nothing Beats A Roast (December 13, 1989)
by Molly O’Neill for The New York Times
Since starting a family, there’s always a question hovering over my head during the holidays that make my question everything: Do we have any family traditions yet? Of course, I have certain traditions that I hold near and dear with my parents. But when it comes to my children, I want to make sure we establish some yearly rituals that we all get to collectively look forward to.
An easy place to start? The meal.
Granted, my 4-year-old and my 2-year-old don’t exactly have expansive palates yet. Sure, it’s something we’re working on, but I’m not going to beat myself up if they don’t eat the creamed onions sitting in the middle of the table.
Last year, we had a conversation about whether or not duck is something we could make into an annual tradition for ourselves. We love eating it as much as we enjoy preparing it, it feels inherently Christmas-y, and I’d certainly like to eat it more than we currently do. Growing up, however, we often did something much larger and more grandiose: beef tenderloin.
As you’ll see from this week’s historical Sunday Read from December 1989, sometimes a big hunk of meat is something worth rallying around during the holidays.
ROASTS remain. A grand ode, an enduring symbol.
Despite health concerns and shifting food fashions, Bunyanesque cuts of beef, pork, veal and lamb, along with poultry and game birds, are still the centerpieces of the winter holiday table.
They summon something primordial. A victory. An accord. Outside, it is dark and cold; inside, it is safe and warm. ‘’Let’s celebrate. We’re a tribe.’‘
Sharing a roast seals the pact. The campfire aroma that whispers over uncarved meat incites a Pavlovian response. It begins as an itch in the elbow and progresses to a tingling in the fingertips. Any child who has faced brightly wrapped holiday packages can describe the urge. ‘’Dig in’‘ seems more appropriate than ‘’Bon appetit.’‘
Read in full here.
The Sunday Haiku
I just noticed that
my sweatpants are on backward —
but does it matter?
A December playlist I’m working on: Christmas, kind of.
For the past three years, my wife and I have left town the first weekend of December. While I don’t do this before every trip, these trips have caused me to do something beforehand that I’ve enjoyed: create a playlist.
This year’s is still very much in its infancy, but you can listen to it here.
And for more more traditional holiday playlist, do not hesitate to check out Pistachios as well.
Things I Saved This Week
My Sunday To-Do List
After being away since Wednesday evening, I’m so excited to spend most of my day at home.
The rotation of returning from a long weekend: unpack, do laundry, clean the house, order dinner in.
I have the finale of The Great British Baking Show to finish, and tonight seems like a great night to do just that.
My son decided to use my good incense as “bear food” for his new bear figurines, so I may spend some of the afternoon burning little pieces to actually make use of them.
Whether you’re enjoying your Sunday at home or swamped with holiday stress, I hope you can find some moments of peace today.
— Will