Let's gather around the fire pit
The Friday Cookbook seeks a certain place for a certain time
There’s something missing from my life right now. As the days grow shorter, a crisp chill sets into the fall evenings, and the smell of dead leaves fills the air, I find myself wistful for an experience from a different time and a different place. It’s something that just seems tailor-made for this time of year, my favorite time of year.
I want to be cozy at a bar.
I’ve never liked crowded bars, even before they were a direct public health threat. I’m not the type for clubs or loud places in general. But I adore a cozy bar; a warm, dimly-lit, half-filled place that’s just comfortable to be in, a place insulated from the cold world outside—a place that embodies the indefinable feeling the Danish call hygge.
Now, surely some places are open right now. I’m not going if they are. The core feeling of this cozy dream relies on it existing somewhere away from the problems of the world, and there’s no such place right now. Hopefully there will be again soon.
In the meantime, I’d like to channe…