I realize, after 18 years as a part of it, that the rules of the food internet in the week before the American cooking superbowl we call Thanksgiving dictate that everything should relate back to turkey, stuffing, or pie. But friends, we have that abundantly covered in the archives, and the newsletter. So let me tell you what I’ve been making a lot lately to feed myself what I crave, and that is sheet pans of mixed vegetables roasted until almost charred, finished with a balsamic vinaigrette, and studded with heavenly, salty, crispy pillows of halloumi.

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“I was looking for a simple roasted carrot recipe on your site and couldn’t find one,” a friend told me a month ago and I immediately put “simple roasted carrot recipe” on my sprawling, decades-long To Cook list because sometimes I forget myself, too. Spoiler: I was never going to write a simple recipe for roasted carrots.

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Last summer, when my younger child joined my older child at sleepaway camp for a month for the first time, leaving us unmoored and a little restless, we made a list of restaurants we’d been meaning to try and friends we don’t see enough and took this task on like it was our job. I barely cooked once. By the end of the third week, everything hurt and we realized our template for a child-free life (going out late, cocktails on weeknights, and generally behaving despicably) was based on our age and energy level when we were last child-free, which (I’m sorry as this fact seems to upset you guys as much as it does his actual parents) was almost 15 years ago.

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