The World’s on Fire, So Come Over for Pasta

March's Essay

Since I never got around to it last year, I promised myself that this year I’d finally host at least one dinner at my place. Sure, I love going all out for my birthday—it’s been the one event I always plan and host—but somehow, it never occurred to me how much I’d actually enjoy doing all that on a smaller scale, on some random Friday night.

For someone who proudly identifies as a homebody, loves her alone time, and tends to spiral when overwhelmed, I never really pictured myself as a person who likes to host. Someone who willingly spends hours planning a menu, deep cleaning the apartment for one night, and decorating just because. And yet… here we are.

Last Friday, I had a few close friends over for a low-key dinner. I’d sent out a save the date a few weeks earlier and spent some time gathering recipes before finally deciding on the menu. I thought I had the day perfectly planned out, but work had other ideas—so by the time everything came together, people were already arriving. But at least my place was very clean and looking super cute—and since it was all close friends, no one actually minded.

Why Host

Maybe you can relate, but I’ve always felt like gatherings needed a reason—like they had to be tied to something official, which is probably why I usually only go all out for my birthday. Part of it is how busy everyone is—without an official occasion, it can feel hard to justify making it a priority. But honestly, there’s something really special about getting a small group of close friends together just because. When it’s a cozy group in a comfortable space, the conversations get deeper, the laughs come easier, and you actually get the opportunity to connect—versus big parties where you’re constantly bouncing around. I’ve realized how much I love that kind of intimacy, especially over dinner. Feeding people, sitting around a table, hanging out long enough for second helpings—it feels like its own little kind of magic. A simple ritual that builds community.

Honestly, it’s pretty ironic that I’d forget just how good it feels to share a meal with people I love, especially considering the name of this newsletter. Sobremesa, which is the Spanish word for the tradition of lingering at the table after a meal, soaking in the conversation and company.

The Menu

For last Friday’s dinner, I had big, ambitious plans—but thanks to running out of time (had to wait around for a work related UPS package *shakes fist at sky*), a few things didn’t make it to the table. Just means I’ve got a solid excuse to host another dinner in a few months. Here’s what did make the cut: