Imagine a world where, despite our hectic schedules, we could consistently gather with friends for a weekly dinner that feels both grounding and sacred. Sounds impossible, right? But chef and bestselling author Samin Nosrat has not only made it happen for the past five years, but she’s turned it into a life-changing ritual. In her latest cookbook, Good Things: Recipes and Rituals to Share with People You Love, Nosrat reveals the secrets behind her Monday night dinners—a tradition so meaningful that one friend called it 'her church.' But here’s where it gets controversial: Nosrat argues that the magic isn’t in the menu but in the act of cooking and eating together. Could it be that the key to connection lies less in what we serve and more in how we gather? And this is the part most people miss: it’s not about perfection, but about consistency and simplicity.
Nosrat’s approach is refreshingly practical. She emphasizes the importance of ritualizing the dinner by sticking to the same day, time, and location. 'It’s one less thing to coordinate,' she explains, 'and it creates familiarity—everyone knows the kitchen, the space, the pantry.' This small act of consistency removes barriers, making it easier for everyone to show up. But is it really that simple? What if your friends are too busy or flaky? Nosrat admits she initially had the same doubts, but over time, the dinners became a non-negotiable part of their lives.
The menu, she insists, should be casual and low-stress. Think big-batch dishes like creamy spinach lasagna, slow-cooked salmon, or her infamous Pane Criminale—a garlic butter-infused bread so good her friends dubbed it 'criminally good.' The Italian name, meaning 'criminal bread,' perfectly captures its irresistible appeal. But here’s the counterpoint: doesn’t simplifying the menu risk making the dinner feel less special? Nosrat argues no—it’s the shared experience that elevates the moment, not the complexity of the food.
She also encourages involving kids in the cooking process. 'When kids help, they’re more likely to be curious about the meal,' she says. Whether it’s folding dumplings, whisking dressing, or sprinkling cheese on quesadillas, these simple tasks keep them engaged without overwhelming the host. But what if the kids make a mess? Nosrat’s advice? Keep it simple and don’t stress—the goal is connection, not perfection.
Another key insight: weekly dinners are a team effort, but contributions don’t have to be elaborate. If you can’t bring a dish, Nosrat suggests picking up ice cream or grabbing a last-minute item from the store. But what if someone consistently shows up empty-handed? Should you say something? Nosrat advises addressing it early to avoid resentment, but always prioritizing the person’s presence over their contribution.
To make the gathering feel special, Nosrat suggests small touches: cloth napkins, flowers picked from the yard, or a good bottle of wine. 'Take a moment to admire the food on the table,' she says. 'It’s sacred.' But isn’t this just another form of pressure to make things perfect? Nosrat would argue it’s about intention, not perfection—a way to distinguish the dinner from an ordinary night.
So, here’s the question for you: Could you commit to a weekly dinner with friends, even if it means keeping things simple and imperfect? And if not, what’s holding you back? Let’s discuss in the comments—I’d love to hear your thoughts!
