Winter Reset (+ a huge subscription sale!)
10 lists for full plates and soft hearts
Hi Friends!
I’ve missed you. What a world we are living in, early in February, deep in political muck, layered in piles of snow—at least in my neck of the woods.
Forgive my delay in getting our year together started. The last five weeks we’ve been alternating between triage (my ten-year-old son had a concussion on the mountain snowboarding several weeks ago; my fifteen year old daughter is getting her first taste of adulting, writing bios and resumes, getting working papers, and applying for summer internships in her highly competitive field) and tranquility (snow upon snow driftly softly to the ground while a pot roast simmers in the oven, our world shuttered under travel bans).
There were many milestones in these five weeks: celebrating a friend launching her new cookbook, helping another prepare to welcome her first baby, and marching boldly in a new semi-centennial for one of my dearest friends (we feasted on whole roasted lamb and dozens of platters of sizzling, northern Chinese vegetable sides and corn dumplings in a yurt in the woods—highly reccomend!). All the while, I’ve had multiple drafts and recipes just minutes shy of hitting publish, then suddenly there’s a new urgent thing waiting for me—joyful or challenging.
Showing up for the people I love so far this year has meant a lot of abandoning my plans—abandoning my writing—and releasing outcomes. Frankly, it can feel self-indulgent to be writing about your own life in the world we are living in right now—a feeling that has also kept me studying, focused on what I can do to help or champion those around me (idea: donate to Second Harvest Heartland in Minneapolis, or your own local feeding org).
But not to write, for me, is not to be human—not to feel, or process, or share in our collective humanness.
I have always written what I know best. Right now, that is the inner workings of our four walls. Inside our walls, we’ve returned new mantras and new rituals, old and familiar menus from my favorite books and previous posts—many of which are serving us very well. So here, as we start 2026 together (many weeks after each of us started our official new year in our own ways), here are ten simple lists—what I know to be a good and helpful right now, what I’m reading, what we’re eating, and a handful of other delicious offerings:
Miracle Mornings: On the last day of 2025, I re-committed to a practice I loved and used several years ago called Miracle Mornings: starting your day with a moment to center and ground yourself before you are met with the demands of the world. It’s based on a simple formula using the memorable acronym Life SAVERS: Silence, Affirmations, Visualization, Exercise, Reading, and Scribing (aka writing). Morning by morning, I’ve taken to my bedroom floor with a candle, my notebook, and my singing bowl before I even greet my kids hello—something I had heard other parents do, but never thought was possible for me (!!). Turns out, they adjust (or join in) beautifully.
Soup as Love: We are a soup family, and it is the thing I find most nourishing to self and family. Soup is also the easiest thing to batch cook and spoon into tall bar jars, tightly sealed to gift and share—to help a friend in need, to bolster a new mother, to nourish the broken-hearted, and anyone grieving and healing. Below, I’m giving you our 8 Go-To Winter Soups I serve on repeat until late March.
Dinner Journal: This fall, I took a cue from Jenny Rosenstrach and started writing down what we have for dinner every night. I’m a sucker for a pretty paper agenda book, but my entire calendar is digital now, so I turned mine into our dinner journal, writing down whatever we eat for dinner each night (or an occasional special lunch, or milestone breakfast) in the small space for each day. Starting in January, I also jot down a key takeaway from my miracle mornings—a phrase from my devotion or my affirmation for the day—plus a little note about family life (Mátyás lost a tooth! Greta gets her working papers!). It seems mundane now, but I know I will delight in it in years to come and perhaps feel proud of what we were able to accomplish as a family each day.
Bountiful Breakfast Bowls: My Christmas Confetti Fruit Salad (aka epic winter fruit bowl) followed us right into the new year, along with our favorite Tahini Granola Bowls, and the other high-fiber, High-Energy Breakfast Bowls that my kids have come to count on. My latest favorite, when we run out of fresh fruit: Blueberry-Kiwi Yogurt Bowl with Fresh Ginger and Maple Syrup (made with frozen blueberries) and topped with this or this granola (pictured, before and after, below).
Candlelight Dinners: We burn candles nightly from late November to early spring, but we’ve taken to lighting them at weekend breakfasts, snow-day lunches, and anytime we gather. This adds a sense of reverence to any meal, even the simplest meals that might otherwise feel like a band-aid solution (I’m looking at you, take-out). Our favorite lately: candlelight waffles for dinner (recipe, here).
Deep, Meaningful Reads: For the last decade, my book list was full of heavy hitters like The Anxious Generation, The Invincible Brain, The Self-Driven Child, The Art of Happiness, The Origins of You—with a heavy focus on neurology, sociology, mental health, parenting, spirituality, relationships, and connection. This year I’ve redisovered my love of memoir, with a list that has already included the deliciously captivating HomeSchooled (a story of mother and son, boundaries, and what we give up for those we love), Next of Kin (harrowing, beautiful, real), Restaurant Kid (inspired, heartfelt), Expecting Adam (agonizing, breathtaking) and You Don’t Have to Say I Love You (just started! I’ll report back). I am flying through them, a book every few days—rediscovering how much perspective, reslience and depth we take away from true stories. I’ve started Mátyás on Roald Dahl’s delightful self-telling, Boy: Tales of Childhood (an infectious treat!!). Below, find also a list of 6 Inspiring New Year’s Reads I revisit each year.
Nourishing (Fiber-Rich) Foods: If you’ve been with me a while, you’ve heard my manifestos on Loving the Foods That Love you Back. It’s the through-line of everything I do, and 100% my (capital W) why. In that post, find a list of my most fiber-rich, nutrient-dense recipes. Other recipes that caught my eye and hit the mark: Hetty Lui McKinnon’s Harissa maple carrots and chickpeas, Romanian Onion Stew with Polenta from Irina Georgescu, and Caroline Chambers Rainbow Chicken Chop (yum!)
Films > TV: Some of you know, we didn’t have a proper television at home until Thanksgiving 2022, before which time we were lovers of books, documentaries, and old films splashed from a projector on occasion. The tv brought with it many cozy, big-kid nights in front of Friends, Gilmore Girls, The Empress (so good!), a time I will cherish for years to come, but as a culture, we are saturated with low-quality, high-drama storytelling that I don’t want to shape our thoughts. I’m loving our subtle shift back to tv off, books up (!!)—along with the juicy treat of truly captivating films and documentaries for special days. Find my list of 12 Inspiring Films I’ll say yes to (for my big kids, or myself) anytime, below.
Hearty, Wholesome Bakes: Our winter bakes have been leaning wholesome and whole-grain or grain-free, with all the sweetness and flavor coming from bananas, maple syrup, dried fruit (raisins!). Top of our list for repeatable treats: Perfect Ratio Oatmeal Cookies (with chocolate, lately), no-bake Chocolate-Tahini Power Cups, warm, buttered Butter-Pecan Banana Bread, and Nicki Sizemore’s Grain-Free Blueberry-Banana Muffins (double the batch, and freeze half).
The Return of Real Phone Calls: After years of avoiding my phone (which often signals more work, demands, and to-dos than I can keep up with) and relying on texts and (satisfying!) voice notes back and forth with my siblings and best pals, I’ve been loving sparse but in-depth phone calls with my oldest friends, my sisters and parents. When you can’t live physically close by, what a gift it is to hear the warm, familiar voices that shaped you.
With that reminder, I’m off to call my mom, who is recovering from her first of two total knee replacements, and winning, despite this brutal winter (go Mom!! At age 78, and a two-time cancer survivor. We are all deeply proud of her strength and gusto).
Wishing you love and lightness for 2026—a year of clearer thinking and deeper loving, a year of choosing to see the good, nourishing gifts everywhere, in every day we have.
Xx
Sarah
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Blueberry-Kiwi Yogurt Bowl with Fresh Ginger and Maple Syrup, topped with this or this granola (below).
8 DELICIOUS WINTER SOUPS:
Creamy Cauliflower Soup with Crispy Chickpeas (pictured, top)
Italian Wedding Soup (unlocked)
Brothy Hungarian Gulyás (Goulash)
Spicy Squash Soup with Dill, Radish and Avocado (pictured, above)
12 MOTIVATING MOVIES + DOCUMENTARIES:
6 INSPIRING NEW YEAR’S READS:
Untamed by Glennon Doyle
Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert
Photos by Christopher Testani, Harrison Lubin and Sarah Copeland. Styling by Sarah Copeland.
Happy 2026! I hope your son is improving. I know it can take time--my oldest had a bad concussion in high school.
Thanks for all of the suggestions.
I'm definitely a book gal and writer, so I understand leaning into those. Love movies and some TV, too.
I’m so glad you started a dinner journal and that it’s non digital which is key. You’re right that the mundane details today are the most fascinating ones tomorrow. That has borne out with me over and over again with journal keeping — the dinner kind or any other. And now to check out those winter soups! Welcome back.