The Only Newsletter I Care About This Week
#homeecmakes
It's been 8 years and I still think about this Valentino campaign.
A lot.
The Best Love Songs of All Time
(a working playlist)
Valentine's Day used to be a tough one for me. For all of the obvious reasons, but also because in college, my best friends and I made it a priority to go all out for Galentine's day. I somehow managed to be become best friends with the very coolest, very funniest, very smartest, very prettiest girls who, for the majority of college, were all somehow single OR had delightfully far away, long-distanced boyfriends. The routine was usually to take a trip to the movies where we'd see that year's attempt at The Notebook (group favorite and, very much underrated, if you ask me or any of my lads: Country Strong - GREAT soundtrack. Where my Canter Heads at?!). Then, we'd come home and make some sort of decadent, cheesy, chocolatey, red wine-y dinner, with all of us dressed up in pink and red. We lived la vida loca for all holidays, but Galentine's was always my most favorites. It's funny how we only spent 4 Galentine's days together, but in my head, it feels like it was at least 10 years of great parties. College is heartbreaking.
So then, after I moved home, I had the even bigger bummer mix of no boyfriend AND no girlfriends, throwing fun dinner parties to distract from the no boyfriend part.
A few years ago, when I decided it was generally time to stop acting like an 11 year old boy re: anything related to romantic love, I started to embrace how much I actually really loved Valentine's Day. Hallmark invented or not, I look at it as a total celebration of love in all forms. The people you love, the tiny little home you love, the very sturdy body you love, the special outfit you love, the delicious foods you love etc. etc. etc...
As Thanksgiving is to looking around and having an excuse just to say "Hey, thank you," so is Valentine's Day to looking around and getting to say "Hey, I love you." I'm so in.
I also realized how bonkers it was for me (or any fabulously single person!) to be sad on Valentine's Day, when really, it's simply an unmonitored 24 hours of excuses to treat oneself! Which, tbh, is already sort of my vibe, as a single, childless woman, but you can realllly lean into it on February 14.
That, and I also just started generally liking myself more and so Valentine's Day just became a day and not an lonely implication of my shortcomings... handy how that whole self-confidence / trying less / chilling-out cycle all works together.
The tentative plan (and in case it hasn't yet been made abundantly clear, I can do whatever the hell I want, so this could change at a moment's notice) is a bottle of rose, pasta and a classic movie. I'm thinking An Affair to Remember or Moonstruck, but maybe I should go with something newer and funny like The Long Shot with Seth Rogen and Charlize Theron, which I surprisingly loved and who's chemistry is randomly so, so good. (Please reply to this email with other movie suggestions.) Usually, I like going to the theater alone on Valentine's Day because it reminds me of how independent I am and that made-up cultural norms are mostly just in place to make me feel like I should apologize for something, but this year, covid-safe couch it is.
Last year, I saw The Photograph, then came home and made Alison Roman's Caramelized Shallot Pasta at midnight. Would recommend both.
This year, I'm thinking Carbonara of some sort. Maybe even with a side of steak. Definitely with a strong cocktail. Probably two. Definitely thinking about the people I love and why I love them. Probably also then texting them about it because I love making my people uncomfortable with sentiment. And maybe just 2 minutes of self-pity. I'll set a timer.
Spaghetti Carbonara
Marcella Hazan
INGREDIENTS
Salt as needed
1/2 pound pancetta cut in 1/2" slices (or guanciale, or good slab bacon - this is the heart of the dish, accompanied by a bevy of mostly cheap ingredients... don't cheap out here)
4 garlic cloves
3 tablespoons olive oil
1/4 cup dry white wine
1 1/4 pounds spaghetti
2 eggs
1/2 ounce Romano cheese freshly grated
2 ounces Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese freshly grated
Freshly-ground black pepper to taste
2 tablespoons chopped parsley
INSTRUCTIONS
Bring a large pot of salted water to boil.
Meanwhile, cut the pancetta or bacon into strips not quite 1/4-inch wide.
Agressively mash the garlic with a knife handle, enough to split the cloves and loosen the skin. It's fine that you're a single, liberated woman, but this is a chance to get a little frustration out. Discard the skin. Place the garlic and olive oil in a skillet and turn the heat to medium-high. When the garlic turns a deep gold, about 2 minutes, remove it and discard.
Place the strips of pancetta or bacon in the pan and cook until they just begin to crisp at the edges, stirring often, about 5 minutes. Add the wine and let it bubble away for 1 to 2 minutes. This is one of my favorite parts of any recipe. If you stand over the pot when you pour the wine in, you'll smell the pungent, sour smell of alcohol right away. You'll know it's been enough time when everything suddenly begins to smell sweet. When that happens, turn the heat off.
Add the spaghetti to the boiling water, and cook until al dente, about 8 to 10 minutes. Drain.
Break the eggs into the serving bowl in which you'll be tossing the pasta. Beat them lightly with a fork, then add the Romano and Parmigiano-Reggiano, a liberal grinding of pepper and the chopped parsley. Mix thoroughly.
Add the spaghetti to the bowl and toss rapidly, coating the strands well. This is the part that scares people because there's the potential for scrambled eggs, so I like to take a little bit of the pasta water and temper the egg mixture first, warming it up and whisking it and then stirring it in with the pasta. Don't be afraid, but do move quickly. Briefly reheat the pancetta or bacon over high heat, turn the entire contents into the bowl of spaghetti and toss thoroughly again.
Serve at midnight simply because of how romantic that sounds.
I sure hope you have someone to share this with, but if not, more for you.
If You Were Here to Share This Giant Pot of Soup with Me
If you were here to share this giant pot of soup with me
I’d do the grocery shopping and you’d pick the playlist
Would we have wine or water? Are we still trying to ‘get back into it’ as if 'it' was ever something we were ever thoroughly into?
Wine. It’s Sunday and we’ll start Monday.
You would offer to help and I would say yes in a way that makes me smile without realizing it.
A nonchalant “Sure!”
but said a little too loudly.
Someone here to help me cut the leeks. Golly.
But you probably would cut them a little too thick and then I would say something unnecessary about the thickness of the leeks. And then I would instantly regret it, reminding myself the importance of thinking before speaking
Especially when it comes to sarcastic criticism
Especially when it comes to helping in the kitchen
Especially when it comes to you and to the leeks.
Remember when I played The Beach Boys because I thought it would impress you?
The Beach Boys.
You wouldn’t help me with the dishes because we’d be too busy kissing.
Kokomo playing softly in the background
Tubs of leftovers in the fridge that wouldn’t make me feel so lonely
You would stop at In-N-Out on your way home because leek soup isn’t enough, but you would keep it a secret forever
Maybe I’m so in love I don’t even notice the way you cut the leeks in the first place.