Came back today from Rosh Hashana at my parents' house. Two memorable tastes from this holiday:
1. Biscottini di Roma, simple disks of small, soft almond cookies that my mom makes every year for the holiday. Growing up I always thought these were called Biscottini Darona after my mom's close friend with the same name. The cookies and the friend shared a pillowy sweetness. Takes me back to when dropping a word into conversation for the first time was risky business, because you learned it from a book and prayed that it's pronounced phonetically. (I'm looking at you, rendenzvous.) Back to when Urban Dictionary didn't exist so you just pretended to understand obscenities until you pieced them together through context. Back to when you didn't--couldn't--run away from the unknown.
2. A glass of wine, sipped at the kitchen table with my parents and a friend. One of those moments when it's a real pleasure to be a grownup. Also, one of those moments when you look across the table at your parents and they look back at you and you wonder whether you're all having the same thought: "This is a person, independent of his or her relationship with me."
Happy new year. May it be one in which you appreciate your and your loved ones' past, present, and future selves.