Embracing winter

The magic of dogs, more/less lists, winter cooking

Hi friends,

If you’re in a rotten mood, may I suggest a dog park? My favorite thing about living in central Brooklyn is my apartment’s proximity to the northern edge of Prospect Park, where there’s a vast expanse of grass where dogs can run free every morning until 9am. I don’t have my own dog (yet!), but that doesn’t mean I can’t circle the lawn, admiring the galloping, panting, tail-wagging pooches. A morning walk in Prospect Park has a 100% success rate in lifting my mood.

It’s no secret that dogs can alleviate human suffering; their love is unconditional and unwavering, and they demand that you step outdoors and give them your attention. At the beginning of Covid, when I first came home from college, I was in the process of healing from disordered eating, and did not feel like myself. Around the same time, we welcomed Remy, a darling Bernedoodle puppy, into our family. She exceeded our expectations — the friendliest, most exuberant fluffball, who played hard, napped hard, and loved hard. A medical professional I was working with at the time advised me to think about Remy and her relationship with her body, and to attempt emulation. It seemed silly until I started noticing Remy’s bodily ease; she ate when she was hungry, rested when she was tired, whined with discomfort upon getting hurt, turned toward the wind and felt the breeze on her face. While I floated outside my body, she existed within hers. 

{Two photos from those early Remy days}

I started with a dog anecdote because winter is hard! Short, cold day after short, cold day, rinse and repeat. The little things that buoy you (like dogs, for me) become more crucial than ever. And, really, there’s a lot to love about winter. Bracing, wintry walks à la Ted Kooser. Nursing hot beverages all day long. Sleeping. Buying people gifts for the holidays. Hearty, stick-to-your-bones meals, eaten slowly with a glass of red wine. Reflecting.

A favorite ritual for me around this time of year is my more/less list, which I discovered through the Instagram of illustrator Julia Rothman a few years back. It’s as simple as it sounds: a list of what you want more of in the coming year, and a list of what you want less of. I like how gentle it is, how it’s not about hard-set goals and failures and successes, but about “leaning into the light,” as author Barry Lopez would say. Here’s mine this year, if you’re curious. I’d love to hear what comes to mind for your more/less list as we approach 2023.

I’m completing a weekend now, and heading back to work tomorrow. The current menu at Hart’s is — surprisingly — my favorite menu since I started working there. My chef has taken a season that isn’t celebrated for its produce, and designed a remarkably bright, vegetable-heavy menu that also tastes luxuriously rich. For example, we’ve been quartering heads of radicchio and charring them in olive oil on the plancha until they become tender and their bitterness mellows. Then, we plate it with hand-torn croutons, and drizzle everything with bagna cauda, an Italian dipping sauce made with garlic and anchovies. There are two main lessons here: first, you should char your lettuce, and second, you should eat everything with bagna cauda. We always have a pork milanese on the menu (people love fried food), but we switch up the set to keep it seasonal. Right now, we’re serving it with raw, thinly sliced turnips and radishes, dressed with salsa verde. On its side is a perfect quenelle of housemade bottarga butter. This is my favorite way to eat — the middle ground between light and rich. Give me all the bitter greens if I can bathe them in bagna cauda. Give me all the turnips in the world if I can drag them in bottarga butter. Vegetables are such a joy when prepared with respect (and fat).

I only have three more weeks of cooking at Hart’s, which feels correct and also breaks my heart a little! A whole lot of my friends are trying to dine there before I leave, which I so appreciate, especially during this crazy holiday month. Hart’s is a very special, tiny restaurant, and I believe in its food very much.

Lots of love to you and yours! 

Please stay warm, and treat yourself well,

Phoebe