Three Things

A January dinner challenge, lots of Dutch oven talk, a propulsive novel

Good morning, everyone and happy new year! We have a lot to cover today, and right up top I’d just like to apologize if I start frequently upper-casing words for emphasis and using phrases like “for heaven’s sake,” and in general sounding like the prickly but lovable seventy-something Sybil Van Antwerp from The Correspondent, whose voice I CANNOT GET OUT OF MY HEAD. I didn’t read as much as I had hoped over the break, but I did finally sit down with the Virginia Evans novel that has gained momentum over the past nine months, and seems to be tucked into every friend’s bag. For those of you who have not yet read: It’s told through letters between Sybil and just about everyone in her life — family, neighbors, friends, customer service reps (!), college deans, famous novelists including one particularly stunning missive to Joan Didion — and, all together, tell Sybil’s story, rich and complicated with love and regret and longing and wrenching sadness. I’m so glad I started my 2026 reading with such a winner. In other epistolary news, THANK YOU TO EVERYONE who reached out about “A Love Letter to My Dutch Oven” in the New York Times last week. (That’s a gift link if you missed it and would like to read.) The essay, about how my 5 1/2-quart enameled-steel Le Creuset watched me grow up, was a lot of fun to write, but even better were all the texts and emails I received from long-lost friends. I had to stop myself from ending each reply with phrases like Do let me know how you’re getting on, the way Sybil would have. OK, enough throat-clearing! Here are Three Things I’d like to talk about this week…

1. Is this the year you become a Weekday Vegetarian?

My Second Annual Weekday Vegetarian Challenge is up and running — the first Monday-to-Friday Meal Plan, focusing on “all-in-one” recipes (read: no side dishes), landed in subscribers’ inboxes last week. This might seem counterintuitive to the word “challenge,” but remember that in your journey to dial back meat, the most important thing* is to just start somewhere, and you should consider yourself successful here even if it’s eating just one or two vegetarian meals a week, like these gorgeous, and gorgeously easy, black bean tostadas we had for dinner last night. These meal plans, which will arrive in subscriber inboxes each Friday in January, hope to nudge you along in the inspiration department — think of it as receiving a mini cookbook every week. If you want to see what a complete month looks like, you can check out last year’s challenge.

Either way, good luck, and I’m here for you if you have questions.

*second most important thing: picking up a copy of The Weekday Vegetarians :)

2. Top 10 Dinners to Make in a Dutch Oven

Fun fact: You’re looking at my very first Instagram post, which appeared on March 10, 2012. It received eight likes and two comments, and I must’ve gone back and edited the caption at some point, which is just the hashtag: #DALSporkragu. This feels appropriate because in my house, the recipe for Pork Ragu (or “Instant Dinner Party”) might be as beloved as the Dutch oven it’s browning in. (Look how bright my little baby pot is back in 2012!) If you read my love letter, maybe you’re wondering what our other Dutch oven MVPs are? I thought you’d never ask…

Top row, left to right: My 8-year-old Made This Chili (turkey, beef, three-bean); a nostalgic Penne and Vegetable Gratin from Gourmet Magazine, ca 1995 that we’ve recently added back to the rotation; Meera Sodha’s bright, addictive, perfect-for-January Mango Paneer Curry; Middle Row: One of eight thousand No-Knead Breads I baked in my Dutch oven during the pandemic; Never-fail Arroz Con Pollo, an ideal Sunday family dinner; Marcella Hazan’s Bolognese, the first recipe that made us feel like grown-ups; Bottom Row: Braised Beans with Burrata, the cornerstone of a vegetarian dinner repertoire; Eric Ripert’s Potato Leek Soup, another pandemic discovery; Our 2011 recipe for Red-Wine Braised Short Ribs, one of the most popular recipes we wrote for our Bon Appétit column “The Providers.”

I feel like I just compiled a photo album for my third child. And P.S. YES I KNOW ABOUT BAR KEEPERS FRIEND AND NO I WILL NOT BE USING IT TO CLEAN THIS POT.

Times photographer Brea Souders shoots my little superstar in good mid-day light. Sometimes it makes me laugh that this is my life.

3. You Still Have to Live in This World

Because apparently a thousand-word love letter does not seem to be sufficient, I want to tell you one more story about my beloved, battered-and-beaten Le Creuset Dutch oven, and why I felt the need to write an essay about it in the first place.

In early October, my brother Phil came over to have some takeout BBQ and watch the Yankees-Red Sox playoffs with us. At some point during the game, while eating honey-glazed chicken wings and looking on as rookie right-hander Cam Schlittler struck out twelve unsuspecting players, the subject turned to breaking in baseball gloves. I didn’t know this, but when we were kids back in the olden days of the 1970s, breaking in your baseball glove — softening the stiff leather, molding it to your hand — was a rite of passage for young little leaguers. My brother remembers oiling his, pounding it over and over, and of course, playing ball with it, growing with it, working it, working with it, until it felt right. (Key word there: working.) Nowadays, Phil told me, it’s different: You can buy them for your kids already broken in, no work necessary. I’m not sure why, but hearing that depressed me, and launched me into a well-trodden “remember-when” spiral, featuring greatest hits such as Remember when kids read books. Remember when we didn’t have to wonder if a photo/video/essay was real or created with a single ChatGPT prompt? Remember when expressing affection took more than pressing a Like button? Remember when playlists came in the form of mixed tapes from your crush and not algorithms from your streaming service? Sometimes, I really dislike having Perspective.

When I went to the kitchen a few minutes later, I saw my stained and streaked, charred-bottomed, once-vibrant-orange Dutch oven, sitting on the stovetop as always. Well, I thought, appreciating its general well-loved-ness, at least that patina is something people can’t shortcut or fast-track or optimize. And then, another thought, as if delivered by lightning: You still have to live in this world. People say it for all kinds of reasons, but in this moment, staring at the heavy, hulking, realness of the pot in front of me, the concept felt almost like a religious mantra. The world may be changing at an alarming clip, I thought, but living and breathing and being a physical person in the world — specifically being a physical person sitting with my brother and my husband eating honey-glazed chicken wings and cornbread — as overwhelming as it can all be, that’s not changing. My two feet were on the ground, I was watching a live baseball game that I hope wasn’t manipulated by FanDuel, I was breathing air, I was eating food.

I swear I was not high!

Anyway, the essay evolved into something else, but it was important to me to tell you about the epiphany that inspired it, especially as we head into a new year where some of us might be looking for daily, right-in-front-of-us ways to feel more grounded. The answer, at least for now, seems to be: Cook dinner, share it with people you love. (You don’t even need a Dutch oven to do that!) Not always easy, I know, but hopefully we can all help each other along in this space in 2026.

Another 2026 wish for all of us: More quality time spent with Smitten Kitchen’s Apple and (GIANT) Cheddar Crisp Kale Salad.

Happy new year,
Jenny

P.S. New Yorkers and Tri-State Friends! Next Wednesday, January 14, I’ll be in conversation with Nicki Sizemore about her beautiful new cookbook, Mind, Body, Spirit, Food. Hope to see you there.

If you like what you read, would you take a sec to hit the ❤️ button at the top left or bottom left of this newsletter? It helps spread the word about Dinner: A Love Story and also really makes my day.

For more easy, approachable vegetarian recipes, check out my New York Times bestselling books The Weekday Vegetarians and the follow-up: The Weekday Vegetarians: Get Simple. 🍳🌿