Little Things 001: Bread and other softness
Help yourself to a sub-snack.
A whole lot can change in a month, eh? Originally, this Substack was going to be titled “Plot twist,” and it was going to be all about my surprise pregnancy. But after publishing a personal essay about all that last week, I kind of need a break from that particular conversation.
So instead, allow me to introduce “Little Things.”
As (all 5 of) you may have noticed, this humble newsletter is still trying to find its focus. In May I’m coming up on one year of prosebudding, and while I do have a few ideas for where I want to go next, there are still a few kinks I need to work out in terms of balancing babies, bandwidth, and cadence. What I do know is I want to start sending out a series of Substack snacks in between my meatier ramblings—and that’s where “Little Things” comes in. I’m imagining a tasty amuse-bouche of recent bits and bobs that brought me respite in a world that’s looking evermore grim. They’ll be lighthearted, they’ll be quick, and in all likelihood they’ll be pretty random in terms of what you get (stickers? good things I’ve read? odd estate sale findings? we’ll see!) Think of it like a bite-sized morsel of bliss for you to chew on when you need it. That I’m affectionately calling the series “Little Things” doesn’t really bear any explanation, but I’ll give you one anyway in the next edition. Pinky promise.
For now, here are 5 good things on my current list:
1) My mom’s zucchini bread. I’ve been baking it almost every other week. There’s nothing particularly revelatory about the recipe, it’s just warm and comforting to me. (And at the moment, it’s one of a few foods that Joel will consistently eat.)
2) Reading the words of an old friend in print. I’ve always admired how my grad school buddy James Kaelan’s work underscores that everything is political. His short story, “Côte de Nuits,” published in McSweeney’s Quarterly Issue 77, is witty and acerbic—a mouthwatering blend of The Menu and White Lotus—with richer complexities revealing themselves at every sip. And you know what’s extra cool? You can listen to it, too. It’s the first of many pieces from McSweeney’s Quarterly and The Believer Magazine to be produced for The New York Times Audio app. (Claps for you, Kaelan.)
3) Soft vintage. Lately I’m craving softness. To be gentle with myself. To accept rest. These super simple vintage pieces get it.
4) Milchick. Milchick forever. I’m so obsessed. If you haven’t watched Severance yet, please get on that. It is, without a doubt, my favorite thing that Gregg (my partner in everything) has ever sound edited. We just finished the Season 2 finale together, and I cannot stop thinking about Tramell Tillman’s nuanced and often scene-stealing performance. His character arc is just starting to bend—perhaps crack, even—and I can’t wait to see what’s next for him. (Related: I really appreciated this insightful piece in Refinery 29 examining what the show gets right about capitalism and race. Give it a read but be warned: spoilers ahead.) I don’t want to say too much, so I’ll just leave you with this, which was delivered to me courtesy of Instagram’s algorithm:
5) A teeny tiny cuddly thing. I can’t help it.
BONUS: Hearing from folks who read my essay that it resonated. That really meant a lot to me—truly. Thank you. (If you’d like to read but don’t have a Business Insider subscription, message me!)
I would pay money to watch a series of hour long episodes of Milchick dancing and saying needlessly wordy sentences. Like hundreds of dollars.
I hear you on wanting to wear all things soft. Can't wait for actual WARM weather (as it flurries outside my window now). Bring on the easy dresses <3