Hi, friends<3. It’s officially been one year of writing this newsletter, and I’m so thrilled that you’ve stuck around to read my ramblings week after week. I started this while I was freelancing as a creative outlet that I could hopefully monetize one day, but now, as a full time staffer at Wirecutter, I simply write it for the love of the game. It’s basically my weekly/biweekly/when-I-have-the-steam-to-write journal, and so far only like 2–4 people have unsubscribed, so I’d say the journal entries are doing well?

A little recap from the past few weeks (not having to do with th* w*dd*ng):

We’re going on a little weekend trip to Maine tomorrow, making use of the 4th of July day off because we… really need it. The come down from the wedding has truly lasted the entirety of June (esp. because we’re still unsettled with the venue), and we’re finally FINALLY feeling back to normal. It’s kind of like the week between Christmas and New Year’s — a no man’s land of depression you can’t quite put your finger on. My nervous system has only just begun to re-regulate after weeks of waking up in a panic prior to the wedding, worried about everything and everyone involved.

Oh, and Oswald needs surgery! He’s got a malignant tumor we noticed some weeks ago, and that’s been a significant point of stress since our fears were confirmed by the vet. She assured us these are relatively common in dogs with allergies, and they should be able to remove it all, I just hate seeing my little guy go under anesthesia! I still feel guilty about dropping him off to get his balls removed because he had no idea what he was in for.

In better news, though, we’ve started to plan our honeymoon in Japan! We originally wanted to go right after the wedding, pushed it to Sept, and now I think we’re pushing it to October to utilize Columbus/Indigenous Peoples’ Day. It will depend how many days we can both get off, but the current plan is: Tokyo, Kyoto, a day trip or two to a more rural area (Nara deer? Matcha farm?), and Osaka if we have time. I often say that I went to Japan one time and made it my entire personality, so prepare for me to be even more insufferable.

On My Brain

We Have to Stop Kvetching About Wearing Flip Flops in the City

Seriously, when did this refrain begin? When I moved to New York almost a decade ago (! christ), no one had any issue with stomping around in sandals all summer. But in recent years, people have become hypochondriacs about wearing flip flops in cities. I see comments online all the time being like “omg I can’t believe you’re wearing open-toed shoes in Manhattan,” and the native NYers in the comments are all “girl, what?” 

It’s giving “I hate the word moist.” Do you really hate it, or do other people hate it and you’ve been Pavlov-ed into squirming every time you see a pair of Havianas on the E train? 

Let’s think critically here: Our feet, much like our hands, should be washed before they come into contact with surfaces in our homes. I don’t even touch the stinky little dog before I wash my hands, so you bet your ass I’m not kicking my feet up on the couch without at least a baby wipe on my feet. 

And once again, if your feet get dirty… wash ‘em. I know your hands are touching just as many (if not more!) gross thangs as your toesies. Enough already!

The Materialists… Left Much to Be Desired

I was so looking forward to seeing Pedro Pascal on the big screen, and luckily, he’s just as magnetic in this as he is everything else, but the movie itself? Meh.

I had high hopes, actually, when I found out that Celine Song (of directorial debut, Past Lives) directed it. Sadly, this one had none of the lasting profundity of Past Lives, and fell rather flat. It didn’t earn any of the big, sweeping conclusions about modern dating, because the characters were wholly unrealistic and didn’t have genuine chemistry with each other. So much of this movie was not believable, but a week later and my main takeaways are still the same: [SPOILER ALERT] We’re supposed to believe that A. Dakota Johnson’s character makes 80K and lives alone, is dressed that well, and doesn’t have daddy money? Please. B. She would gladly choose her scrub ex boyfriend who’s made literally no changes since they broke up over PENTHOUSE OWNER PEDRO PASCAL? Get real.

Wuthering Heights, on the Other Hand, Is Making Me Giggle and Kick My Feet

I really thought I read this in school, but I’m starting to think I didn’t, because golly am I having the best time. Surely I’d remember reading something so utterly delightful? Either way, I’m so pleased that my friend Maura recommended I try it again — I’m ripping through this written-in-1847 thang like it’s an Emily Henry book. I even read the entirety of the intro and editor’s note before diving in, and wholly enjoyed it. It’s billed as a gothic novel, but it’s so silly? And hilarious? I’m fully loling through the whole thing. Sure, there’s death and revenge and violence, but the dialogue feels so fresh and sharp, it could be from any era.

It’s wild how aging can make you appreciate the things you happily skipped past as a teen, and it’s got me thinking: We really do wrong by kids who aren’t natural readers. All these hard-to-read classics are stuffed down our gullets at such an impressionable age, and it actually seems to deter would-be readers from picking books back up for pleasure. I mean, can you blame a kid whose formative literary experience was falling asleep over the dry-ass pages of a John Steinback novel for not getting into reading? I was an english major by choice, for god’s sake, and I’ve only just know considered revisiting some of these traumas.

Anyway, this is all to say: I might be in my revisiting-the-classics era. If you too, were burned by overexposure to books you couldn’t quite grasp as a youth, consider Wuthering Heights. It’s a TRIP.

In My Cart

A New Cookbook from an Old Coworker!

One of my former coworkers at Food52, Rebecca Firkser, just had her first cookbook published, and it’s entirely devoted to galettes — pie’s less-stuffy cousin. I preordered months ago, and wondered how she could fill an entire cookbook with just galette recipes and have it feel exciting, but she really did it! So far, galettes I have bookmarked include: sweet cherry and lime, figgy miso, and raw and roasted fennel. I’m planning on making the leek and sour cream “quiche” tonight, so stay tuned.

In My Belly

My Current Smoothie Hyperfixation

You may know of my extended fixation on Bear Butter, the almond butter we special order from a small business in the Berkshires. If you don’t, read about it here, in my very first newsletter. One of my favorite things about Bear Butter, though, is the coconut throughout, and the other day I was like… what if I put coconut flakes in my smoothie? Guess what? I’m a genius, and it rules. Here’s my current go-to smoothie recipe (extremely loose definition of “recipe”): A banana, a handful of frozen strawberries or blueberries, a couple pieces of frozen pineapple, a scoop of vanilla protein, a heaping tablespoon of Greek yogurt, a heaping tablespoon of almond butter, a handful of dried (unsweetened) coconut flakes, a pinch of salt, and enough milk to get it going. She is perfect to me.

Flav-Or-Ice Pops

You simply weren’t a child in the US if you don’t have distinct memories of the plastic sleeve ice pops — any brand will do. My mom preferred bomb pops, so we never had these at home, but my core memory with these ice pops was sitting in my friend Rachel’s living room slurping down 10 at a time while watching whatever her brother put on the TV. I also distinctly remember the purple, red, and pink ones making my throat itchy, and no amount of Reddit searching has provided me a conclusive answer for what I might be allergic to. But luckily, they don’t make my throat itch anymore, so either I’ve evolved into my final form or they changed the recipe :). Or both.

When Jeffery was in law school we bought a box of them at Stop and Shop and sort of lost our minds, and now that it’s summer, the hunger has renewed with a disturbing fury. I got a less-than, “natural” version of them at Trader Joe’s and was sorely disappointed — making me crave red dye 40 all the more. Aaaaaand that’s how we ended up inhaling an entire box in less than a week, prompting me to order another 100 set to arrive today. There are worse vices, right?

Love ya, mean it.