Choose To Stay

Waldorf Salad, a new baby, and doing our best

I told you I’ve been watching a lot of New Girl

I can barely remember when there wasn’t a palpable tension in the air. 2015? 1998? I know it didn’t always feel like this. I remember laughing in public; I just can’t remember when. People are on edge, and I can feel myself closing up in response. As we steamroll into the holiday season here in the US, I’m having flashbacks to 2020. We’re all hunkered down again, making pods with people who will help get us through the long years ahead. It’s exhausting and familiar. Everything feels possible, but in the very worst way. I won’t claim to know how things will turn out. No one does. But when there’s so much out of your control, it’s a good time to look at what’s within your grasp. Change where you can. This year I’m hosting my family for Thanksgiving.

My family isn’t huge. It’s just me, my brother, and my parents. We’ve brought our wives into the fold but that didn’t change dynamics much. The Davis Family is competitive, generous, and warmly standoffish, always has been. But my family is going through a big change. My little brother and his wife are about to have their first kid any day now. This is the first grandchild for my parents and honestly, it feels like the first baby in the whole Davis Family since my brother. Sure, some cousins have given birth, but my family is so spread out all over this country that I barely know them, and let alone their children. It’s just us and the occasional childless uncle. We’ve had ample time to prepare. My brother and his wife have been together since 2005, married since 2021, and have long spoken about a desire to have kids. Somehow, we still all seem a little out of sorts. We aren’t a baby family. Everyone likes children just fine- but a baby? We don’t know what to do with a baby. We’ll pretend that it’s business as usual as we pass the stuffing this year. But inside- are we all terrified? I think so.

One of my favorite pictures of me and my brother along with my Grandma and Grandpa from Oklahoma.

I used to wake up early on Thanksgiving when I was a kid and help my dad prep. It was one of the few occasions when he’d cook so naturally, it became a big affair. I’d chop up everything for the Waldorf Salad. I was meticulous; all the celery, apples, grapes, and pecans had to be the same size. I don’t know where this tradition came from, but the meticulous chopping hasn’t changed. No one ate The Waldorf Salad but us, but I considered my dad’s palette superior to everyone else’s, so it had to be perfect. He’d taste test my work, always offering notes. His secret ingredient? A pinch of curry powder. I’d fix it, pleased with myself, and then I’d move on to other tasks. But the salad was always my most important job. This year the menu is different, full of foods I love and traditions I’ve made on my own since I moved away at 18. My wife and I have added to those traditions, and made up some more for good measure. Things have changed, but not as much as I’d like to imagine. I still want my dad to like everything the most. I will still wake up early and chop everything into identical sizes in a quiet kitchen. My mom will still be worried about something. That's her job. My brother will still act unbothered, while secretly wishing the whole menu was different. But every extra year we get together, we get another chance to change.

Cooking with my dad at a friend’s house almost a decade ago

This election hasn’t divided my family; all of our hearts bleed. But this new baby has forced us to take stock of our dynamics and see what can be left behind. As long as everyone is still here, we've got another shot. I’ve got another shot to be a more gracious daughter, a more doting big sister. My parents have another shot at a first impression on a new Davis kid. My brother has a shot at jumping from being the baby to being a dad. The wives have a shot at forming an alliance against all of us. The baby might be the glue this family has been missing. Anything is possible, but in the very best way.

I can’t fix the whole world, but I can fix my world. Thanksgiving is a start. I can show up better than I have in the past. You can too. We’re going to need everyone. Start by sharing a meal with the people you love, whether it’s family, friends, neighbors, or a murder of crows you’ve trained to do your bidding. I won’t judge. Control what you can and jump at any opportunity you get to be a better version of yourself. It’s an achievable goal. I’ve been thinking a lot about this quote from Stay by Jennifer Michael Hecht.

“None of us can truly know what we mean to other people, and none of us can know what our future self will experience…Know that people, through history and today, understand how much courage it takes to stay. Bear witness to the night side of being human and the bravery it entails and wait for the sun. If we meditate on the record of human wisdom, we may find there reason enough to persist and find our way back to happiness. The first step is to consider the arguments and evidence and choose to stay. After that, anything may happen. First, choose to stay.”

This Thanksgiving, be thankful that you got another chance to wake up and raise hell. Change is always coming, but strong spines and soft hearts can fix a lot.

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Still don’t know what to cook? Lemme help. I’ve got tons of ideas for every level of kitchen confidence right here. Tomorrow, paid subscribers are getting a twist on a recent recipe to help carry them through the new year: cranberry apple pie bars. What??? They’re like the pumpkin bars, but you know, different. Want all these exclusive recipes and more help in the kitchen? Become a paid subscriber and you can get answers to all of your kitchen questions ASAP from me and the rest of The Sunday Recipe Club in our chat. Come pull up a seat.

Thanks again for all your support of me and Stir the Pot. It’s been a crazy year but I’m so grateful to have spent it with all of you.

xoxo,

Michelle