018: A New Year’s Eve Debrief
On Resolutions, Latkes, and Black-Eyed Peas
In When Harry Met Sally, each year on New Year’s Eve, Harry and Sally (and Marie and Jess) go to a fancy dress ball and do some proper dancing. A formal affair in a ballroom that looks like it could be located in the Puck Building, or another historic 19th century landmark, packed to the gills with people sipping champagne and blowing whistles, and confetti flying around. Very 80s. That’s the NYE of the popular imagination—or at least of my imagination. No doubt a younger or older person would have completely different cultural touchstones destined to forever raise their expectations for the holiday too high, making the New Year’s Eve of reality incapable of satisfying.
So it was for me: for years NYE was perpetually disappointing. I invariably tried to do too many things, like attend more than one party, or have a nice dinner out before attending a gathering (usually a mistake since NYE pre-fixe is often not very good and overpriced). Regardless, this approach invariably leads to spending the best part of the evening realizing you’re running behind, and racing to the ultimate destination to make it for the countdown to midnight. It felt deeply anticlimactic, causing a wave of existential dread to amplify the requisite hangover, thereby ruining New Year’s Day. Eventually friends of mine began having an annual party (shout out to my besties, Nicole & Ian!), and then NYE became good. Any time I deviated from this plan the holiday felt weird and that existential dread returned. The moral of the story is that quite often your tried-and-true routine is the best recipe for facing this age-old reminder of the passage of time.
As fate (i.e. COVID) would have it, NYE 2019 was the last year we attended a party (though I really count 2018 as the last year, since that was the last of N&I’s annual event). And so new traditions had to be made.
In 2020, at the height of the pandemic, I made latkes, Shrimp Scampi, and Tiramisu. I wore jeans, a red bodysuit with a sweetheart neckline, and a silver herringbone necklace. Casual but with a bit of flair. We sipped champagne from my parents’ Waterford crystal wedding flutes. A little dinner party for two at home since going out was not happening.
In 2021 we dined with friends in the Catskills at Bovina Farm & Fermentory, which might be the coziest place on earth. The dinner was served by candlelight and ended with a cascading champagne pyramid. I would happily ring in the New Year there every year if I could. This felt closest to my When Harry Met Sally NYE fantasy, despite the lack of ballroom or dancing. The cascading champagne, following the candlelit dinner and dessert of flourless chocolate cake, with mostly strangers, was enough to nail a sought-after vibe.
This year, following our many life changes, we enjoyed the simplest affair of them all. Just me, Reed, Shelby, and of course the new addition to our family (who was in bed by 6:30). Even though everything has changed, we haven’t entirely sacrificed tradition. The common denominator of all of my pandemic New Year’s Eves is latkes, whether it be on the Eve or for brunch on the first day of the year.
So this year, all we did was make latkes, eat them with sour cream, dill, and caviar, drink champagne out of those Waterford wedding flutes, and watch a couple of comforting but also stylish movies. This year we landed on GoldenEye, and Charade (an all-time fave that is actually a perfect choice on New Year’s, despite not having any scenes set at the holidays). Other films that would play equally well: any Bond film really, the aforementioned When Harry Met Sally, Moonstruck, Desk Set (this year we watched Desk Set on Christmas), 200 Cigarettes, Paris Blues, Sleepless in Seattle, Carol, Phantom Thread . . . I could go on . . .
On New Year’s Day our routine is to drive up to the Catskills for a hike, and later back at home we partake in the Southern tradition of making black-eyed peas for good luck. This year I prepared the beans by starting with a sofrito of bacon, onions, and garlic, and then adding ham and the last of my turkey stock along with the black-eyed peas. It simmered on the stove for about an hour and a half, and then I cooked up collard greens (in a pan with garlic and chili flakes, and a cup of water, covered for 20 minutes), to serve atop the beans. It’s one of the most nourishing and healthful meals. A perfect meal. I would eat it any day of the year.
I’m not usually one for resolutions but I did hop on the “In for 2023” bandwagon that you may have seen on social media. It appealed to me as a list of light, but sometimes decadent, soul-feeding resolutions, markedly contrary to the toxic self-improvement-oriented resolutions that invariably fail each year due to being rooted in self-criticism. Do people even make those resolutions anymore? I feel like it’s all content and marketing at this point. I want to embrace myself, flaws included. Instead of saying I want to read more books or exercise more, this is a list of little things that enrich my daily life whenever I happen to partake of them. Museums on a weekday afternoon, Luxardo cherries, Barbara Stanwyk films—things I want to do/see/eat/wear more of in 2023, some indulgent, and unapologetically so. Long car rides just to listen to podcasts (mostly for when I’m struggling to get my son down for a nap); day trips to NYC just to do one special thing, like sip a martini at Lodi, or see Alex Katz at the Guggenheim, or meet my bestie, Julia, for High Tea at the Plaza Hotel; fresh-cut flowers all year long.
My one resolution that involves integrating more of a formal “practice” in my daily life is to be more committed to my diary. I keep track of what I cook, and write out my favorite recipes, but I also hope to begin keeping a diary of popular culture I consume, and a diary of quotes that speak to me as I read or hear them. To be kept in one place, not scattered across myriad notebooks and in my notes app as it is now.
Finally, I’ll close out with a list of books, cookbooks, tv, and film I’m hoping to experience this year. There’s very little chance I’ll get to all of it, but here’s a snapshot of what I’m excited for.
Films: Aftersun (dir. Charlotte Wells); After Yang (dir. Kogonada); Corsage (dir. Marie Kreutzer); the films of Mia Hansen-Løve (Bergman Island was one of my favorite films of last year and I’ve been meaning to dive in and see everything she has ever made. I can’t wait to see her new film, One Fine Morning)
Books: Monsters: A Fan’s Dilemma, Claire Dederer (preorder here) (I’m currently reading this and it’s so good! Far exceeding my high expectations); Real Life, Brandon Taylor; Taste Makers: Seven Immigrant Women Who Revolutionized Food in America, Mayukh Sen; Quietly Hostile, Samantha Irby (SAM I can’t waitttt!)
Cookbooks: Sweet Enough, Alison Roman (preorder here); Tenderheart, Hetty McKinnon (preorder here); Table For Two, Bre Graham (preorder here)
TV: The Last of Us (HBO); I Hate Suzie & I Hate Suzie Too (HBO) (Billie Piper and Lucy Prebble’s series is supposed to be utterly brilliant. I’ve always wanted to read Billie Piper’s memoir too…); Poker Face (Peacock) (I CANNOT WAIT for this); Mayfair Witches
…and so much more!!
Xo