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Sometimes all it takes is a photo, a certain slant of light, a flash of memory, a certain feeling to get me scurrying back to writing. It’s been months. But the important thing is I am here and I found it, that inner light, and it is a new year.

There’s an Eastern European tradition to toast (with Vodka) on New Year’s eve to each thing we want to say farewell to from the year. My Vodka toast will be to all the germmies and nastys that track home from daycare, working weekends, sleep deprivation, new parent anxiety, feelings like day-old-bread, and long neglected self-maintenance.

This photo is an overhead shot of our Christmas dinner. There’s a Capon roast, Kabocha and Acorn squashes stuffed with sage breadcrumbs, a Sicilian orange fennel salad, potato gratin, and Mom’s corn soup. Desert which isn’t in the photo was a chocolate stout cake with a tangerine glaze.

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Recipes to follow…

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