The first Christmas tree Andras and I bought together was an 8-foot blue spruce for our 8-square-foot studio apartment in New York City, just two months after we married. I remember how the way I looked at him, carrying that tree like it was no big deal, ignoring the prickers or the weight of it, crossing our busy streets to our quiet cul de sac on the East River. That night I lit candles. I made a perfect omelet, salad and a chocolate pie. He put on music. We both smiled, a lot.
That was 11 years ago this year. Honestly, it’s been a looooong, time since we put that kind of effort into a meal just for us.
Read More