I’m sitting on a cushy white couch in a small patch of sunlight streaming through a living room window. It’s a perfectly blue-skyed day in the Southwest corner of France. The air is brisk but the wind is tame. The sun is out with a force. The only real indicator of winter are the sparse trees all around us, the light brown fields where large stalks thrive in the summer months. A dimly lit fire is crackling beside me, holding onto its last breaths of oxygen before it fizzles out. I’ve just eaten an extensive breakfast—soft boiled eggs with brioche soldiers, fruit and nut bread with salted butter and pear jam, golden kiwi, an americano, fresh orange juice. A bite of the enormous omelet I made Ed flush with ham, sauteed mushrooms, comte and gruyere.
I’ve been sleeping until 11am nearly every day for the last week—I blame the blackout curtains halting any glimmer of light from passing into the room and tell my body it’s time to rise. In the darkness, 9am could be 1am. I can’t stop sleeping. I didn’t realize how tired I was, how tired I’ve been this year as I move 100 miles a minute working, writing, baking, exploring new ideas and new outlets, dining out, seeing friends, exercising, running errands, doing chores. The kinds of things that seem to suck up your day in the blink of an eye. The kinds of things that all year, in New York at least, seem completely normal as they slowly, quietly, drain you of any energy reserves you may have held onto. This unequivocal break from the movement has been the perfect way to close out 2025. I feel so fortunate to step away from work and, more importantly, away from the noise of NYC, just for a moment while I reset and aim to step into the new year fresh-faced, with much smaller bags under my eyes.
Time spent outside of the city is valuable in so many ways, but mostly for giving me the space to think about how I want this next year in the city to feel, and how I want to interact with it. I’ve felt, along with so many others, that this sort of merry-go-round of discovery of the new and sexy gets exhausting and unbearably played out. I don’t really want to spend a lot of my time going somewhere I’ve never been that might be great or might be bad, I want to go back to my favorite restaurants and finally try the last dishes on the dessert menu. I want to see their new seasonal appetizers. I want to revisit the waiters I love. The point of right on Franklin has long been so that the people around me never spend money on a bad meal again—that you can rest assured that you’ve got a vetted recommendation on deck. Constantly going to new places is a part of that, but so is being honest with how not exciting new stuff has felt. I want an Odeon dirty martini, a bowl of fries at Cafe Kestrel, and a spicy scallop roll at Hibino. I want all the desserts at Superiority Burger, and at The Commerce Inn. I want to keep going back to St. John and Café Deco every single time I’m in London. I want to revel in a bit of familiarity and treat myself to the dishes I really love.
In that vein, I thought I would close out the year with some dining resolutions for myself, that might just be useful for you, too. At the end of today’s letter, you’ll find a mini survey and a list of my favorite things I published this year. Hope you are all having a really lovely and RESTFUL holiday. Wishing each and every one of you a warm and cozy start to the New Year.
Dining Resolutions
Prioritize my neighborhood
I’m amazed at how often, in Prospect/Crown Heights, I revert to the same handful of tried and true restaurants. And, how often I go off to try new places in far away lands (East Village, Carroll Gardens, etc.) when I could walk 10 minutes and spend a bit more time ultra-locally. I think the best thing a New Yorker can do is know their neighborhood inside and out. It’s a process, but a worthy one. We could all do with a bit more neighborhood exploring.
Dive into the cookbook collection
For someone who hoards cookbooks, I really do not use them enough. I’ve accumulated such an incredible collection in the last couple of years and I want to go out for the crazy ingredients I can never find, practice technically complicated recipes, learn more about the maillard reaction. I’m especially excited to spend time with Prune, The Four Horsemen, Midweek Recipes, The Korean Cookbook, and Sift. I think we could all use a bit more time in the tangible world between the pages of cookbooks, reading insights from chefs and discovering new techniques. It is a lot more rewarding than consuming via video. Plus, support your local bookstores!
More old-school Italian
I’ve been craving a deep dive into the old school Italian restaurants throughout the city. I am not particularly proud of how often I feel that I could make a pasta dish from a restaurant better at home (there are exceptions, of course), but I desperately want big bowls of Spaghetti alla Vongole and Pasta al Limone. I wouldn’t hate a bit of ragu, too…again, an urge to go back to the classics.
Order big entrees
My time in England and France has been a spectacular reminder of the magic of a big entree. I want a plate of scallops to myself, or a whole fish for two between me and a friend. I want a big bowl of stew after an appetizer. No more 10 courses of small plates, please!!!! Take advantage of restaurant’s show-stoppers, the complex meals they spend so much time perfecting. Order the roast chicken, go for the duck. Austin called this 8 months ago, obviously.
Dine with 2+
I love nothing more than my solo or 1-on-1 meals in the city, but I’ve been awful at planning for larger groups. Nothing sounds better to me than pulling together friends that don’t necessarily know each other but probably should. Even better, you can cover more of the menu. Parties of 4 all year.
Less cocktail bars
This is going to be a major year for wine for me, personally. I’ve long been over the faff of the cocktail bar, often uninterested in the difficulty to get a seat and the heavily rum or fruit-based menus that follow. I would like a stiff, simple cocktail, like the vesper at Dame or the white negroni at Cervo’s. Once we start getting creative, or are seeking out spots just for cocktail lists, my interest fades. Which leads me to…
More wine education
I think an education in wine is one of the more exciting learning curves—you don’t need to know a thing to start, and the best way to increase your knowledge is to be adventurous and try everything. You can read more about that from the experts, but I personally can’t wait to dive into restaurants’ curated wine lists, talk to somms about their choices, and spend far too long in wine stores.
How (and where) to do wine
Food makes sense to me. I understand flavor profiles and palates. I know what ingredients complement each other, what herbs to use on which dish, the ideal ratio for salad dressing. I know how to combine spices and fruits in baked goods, and what does, and doesn’t, need an extra pinch of salt. If you blindfolded me and handed me a plate and a fork, I am…
Lean into early dinners
I want you to book a 5pm dinner on a Saturday night. I want you to sit with your friends for as long as you can hold the table. Drink a bottle of wine, and maybe finish with a round of cocktails. You will stumble out of the restaurant no later than 8pm with a whole night ahead of you and there are few better feelings. I know we all vie for those 7 and 8pm tables, but the first turn of the night is the best turn. Give it a chance and get back to me.
Don’t be afraid to walk-in
Seriously, I can’t tell you enough how silly it is that we all wake up in the middle of the night to nab reservations, and how afraid we all are to get turned away at the door if we aren’t already in that hosts little black book of secured tables. It is always worth a shot, even if you end up needing to wait or dine at an odd hour, give yourself a chance to stroll into that restaurant you want to go to, best on off-hours for increased chances of success, and see what they say. Be kind, be patient, and don’t be too held to any timeline. The ability to be flexible is New York’s secret weapon—even with an hour wait you will be steps away from a great bar, a delicious snack, or an even better restaurant with a table magically waiting for you.
And, as I look back on this year, my favorite pieces I wrote:
And, finally, a little survey for you all:
love this ♥️ hope we can share a bottle in the next year!
I too want to revel in a bit of familiarity and treat myself :,) Lovely Olivia! Resonate with all your resolutions, and agree that 4 people is a perfect party size.. hope we can dine out together in the new year ;-)