Read an Excerpt

Introduction

Dear Hannah,

I can’t believe you’ve written your third book! This has been a hard one, huh? That’s okay. You’ve only just learned how to savor and celebrate the year, so it’s pretty ambitious of you to think you could teach others to do the same. But what’s another word for “ambition”? “Arrogance.” Just kidding. Wow. Don’t take yourself too seriously over there, kiddo. You may be thirty--two and have two other books under your belt, but every creative craft is different. Especially this one.

Remember when you wrote your first book? My Drunk Kitchen: A Guide to Eating, Drinking, and Going with Your Gut—-that seems like so long ago now, doesn’t it? Over two hundred pages of heartfelt gibberish and photos taken in an apartment you lived in for less than a year. And recipes that some people actually wanted to make! Wild. It’s even more wild to think that you’ve signed copies of that book for the last six years since it was published. Six years! Congratulations, buddy.

Oh, and then you wrote Buffering: Unshared Tales of a Life Fully Loaded—-that was a doozy, wasn’t it? A book that surmised your entire life to date. An autobiography. The book you’ve always wanted to write about homelessness, and family, and love, and mental health. The book that took years off your life and then put them back on. A book made from equal parts tears and joy. A book that showed you so much shared community that you never knew how to find but always wanted. Remember the day the book came out and you cried the whole plane ride home—-reading the reviews online and in the New York Times? Holy hell, Hannah! There’s a lot to be proud of, isn’t there?

Oh, what’s that?

You don’t know how to be proud?

You don’t know how to slow down and take it all in?

Or even pat yourself on the back for a job well done?

Well, you’re in luck cuz this book is for YOU!

Over the last few years, I’ve spent a lot of time celebrating. Books, movies, TV shows, etc. There’s been a lot to do. Now that all the above has slowed down (for the time being!), there’s not much left to celebrate, is there? WRONG. There’s a LOT to celebrate. And you can celebrate all year long!

The Holidays (capital H for the big ones) can be equal parts exhilirating and exhausting. And that’s not really fair considering it’s your chance to let loose and take a break. That got me thinking . . . is there a smaller way to savor and celebrate all year long? That way, the months prior to “The Holidays” don’t have to be a constant trudge toward obligatory hosting and family time. How do you even host something, anyway? And why do you love your family so much but feel so drained after seeing them?

This book seeks to answer all those questions and more. And to give some shout--outs and recognition to the lesser holidays that so often get passed over. Holidays like:

Middle Child’s Day!

Left--Hander’s Day!

Just Get Over It Day!

Be a Millionaire Day!

. . . and so many more!

It’s pretty cool that you’ve written another cookbook to pass along some tips and tricks to others. You’re pretty lucky to get to attend a lot of celebrations throughout the year. Now, your job is to share that with others and keep the party going! (In a refreshing and relaxing way, of course.)

So let’s take a look at how you did, shall we? I really hope this book doesn’t suck. I’ve been looking forward to reading it. Even if it did suck, the act of writing it and finishing it is definitely something worth celebrating. So let’s bust open a bottle, baby. Don’t save champagne.

Love,

Hannah

P.S. For real, though . . . I hope this book is good.

*****************************


I’ve never liked the phrase “good things come to those who wait.” It leaves me feeling empty and impatient. Every time someone tells me that, a sense of helplessness sparks within me. I appreciate the thought. The idea that patience will proffer its own reward is a lovely sentiment. But it doesn’t click. Maybe I need a more grounded example— something to symbolize the “good things” that will “come” after “waiting.” Without one, it’s hard to get a sense of the weight behind the words.

What are the “good things”? A romantic partner? Or is it a personal goal? A professional one? I’ve seen friends run the corporate track waiting for the recognition of their efforts, and if that recognition doesn’t come, then does that mean that they don’t get any good things?

And what about the idea that good things are going to “come” and appear before you? What’s taking them so long? What are the good things off doing out there in the world?

And then there is the waiting. For me, “wait” is one of the most active verbs. To wait is to ruminate. To wait is to subjugate (yourself). Waiting is a skill, in my opinion. Being patient allows you to sit in a state of being. To be patient you must become patient. Being patient can be practiced. Waiting implies anticipation, which to me is the opposite of acceptance.

Now, are you ready for me to blow your mind? The maxim actually stems from a poem. And it’s not “good things”; it’s “all things.”

And guess what? The poem doesn’t have a happy ending. As it was written by Lady Mary Montgomerie Currie in the nineteenth century:

Ah! “All things come to those who wait”— (I say these words to make me glad).

But something answers soft and sad— “They come, but often come too late!”

The poem is essentially about a missed connection. About two people whose love for each other never timed up right. She loved him, but he wasn’t interested. When he gained interest, she lost hers. One (or both) of them had in fact been waiting too long. The timing never worked out.

Now you could look at this and say, “See, but if they had just waited, their love would have lined up correctly!” To this I’d like to say nay. Their love wasn’t meant to be because the timing didn’t work out. You can’t wait for someone else’s rejection to spur their epiphany. In fact, you can’t wait for someone else’s anything at all!

Again, waiting is not the same as being patient. Being patient means that you understand and acknowledge why the delay is necessary. It’s similar to mutual love or affection. Agreed upon by both parties.

Waiting is anticipation. And anticipation is the opposite of acceptance.

So next time someone is encouraging you to just sit back and wait, remember the California avocado. Remember the fourteen to eighteen months it took to lead to that moment of consumption. Don’t be too eager. Don’t be too shy. Accept the timing it takes to get the things you want.

Making my favorite avocado toast is pretty simple, but it will take you more than zero seconds in the morning, so it’s best to time it and not to rush. You deserve at least thirty minutes for your first meal of the day, right? It’ll only take five minutes to make it, but if you want to enjoy it, you’re gonna need to slow down.

ACCEPTANCE AVOCADO TOAST

Ingredients

1 appropriately-waited-for California avocado

Garlic-infused olive oil

Lemon

Sea salt

Cracked red pepper

Your favorite kind of toasty toast

1. Cut the avocado in half and admire the perfect circle of the pit. You’ll know you’ve timed it right when the pit looks smooth and dark. There shouldn’t be a bunch of avocado residue on it—that means the avocado wasn’t ready to let go.

2. Scoop half out into a small, stylish bowl. You’re making avocado toast, dammit. Gotta look good while doing it.

3. Add lemon. I like a truly excessive amount of lemon in my life. I love the color. I love the acid. I just love this citrus so damn much. If you’re feeling like you want texture, you can even zest a little of the lemon into it, but that’s a move you can make later on. For now you just wanna try to make this tasty thing.

4. Add sea salt to taste. Maybe throw some black pepper in there if ya want.

5. Drizzle a small amount of garlic-infused olive oil and mush it all together. The olive oil will help the avocado become creamy and more accepting of the other flavors you’ve added. If you feel like it’s more clunky than creamy, either add more oil or just deal with it and move on. Nobody’s perfect. Not even avocados.

6. Toss a pinch of cracked red pepper on top and call it a day. Or rather, start your day. This is a breakfast food, dammit, and I just want to make sure you guys get a chance to know how tasty a semi-hasty breakfast can be.