"You can't please everyone, you're not pizza." Those words, uttered by some infinitely eloquent sage (was it Lao Tzu? Brené Brown? I can't recall), couldn't be more true.
The world seems intensely hectic, a pandemic-laden carnival ride we can't seem to get off of or get reprieve from. And as it spins faster and faster, there is also no reprieve from the demands on our time or attention. We pour the same amount of ourselves into an ever-increasing amount of cups, and somehow always feel like we're letting people down, not doing enough.
Hello, wonderful people!
Olivia (aka Liver) here with some reminders/advice on how to get the most out of your Family Dinner subscription:
Little known fact, the next line in this classic Dean Martin love ditty is :
"When the stars make you drool
Just like pasta e fasul, that's amore. "
Now I have to admit to not exactly being a sucker for love songs, but one that contains explicit references to pizza and pasta dishes can win this cold, dead heart over for sure.
Hey, all! Shannon here to share some of my "Card Catalog" of random knowledge (as Erin and Olivia like to call it). And because I'm in charge (temporarily), we're going to be talking about SOIL!
This week I received an email in which someone declared "sustainable agriculture is an oxymoron." They proclaimed that with all the carbon emissions released from farming, there is no way it can be sustainable. This person probably isn't connected with their food or even curious to really know how it's created. But what really broke my heart was that they were completely closed off to the idea that some forms of agriculture can be beneficial and regenerative for the soils and the world.
You guys. Sam. Sifton. Is. Coming. Back. To. Maine.
For those who aren't nerdy/creepy enough to be tracking every movement of this wonderful man's life, Sam Sifton is the food editor for the New York Times and a founding editor of New York Times cooking. He is the author of delightfully pithy newsletters that sprout into your inbox prodding you to cook this or that on any lackadaisical weeknight.
