Ringing In The New Year With Soup, PJs and Purpose
The days of dressing to the nines and hootin’ it up on New Year’s Eve are but a faint memory for me these days. And I’m not mad about it.
But actually, there’s never a wrong time for stirring it up a bit, in my opinion. That’s why on Dec. 31 you’ll most likely find me at home with a couple of pots of soup on the stove simmering, glass of bubbly in hand and laughing with a few of my favorites. It’s how I prefer to wrap up the final hours and say howdy-do to the new—with those I love. I’ll leave the glitz and glam to my amateur hootenanny’n folk.
When it comes to resolutions, I'm not a fan. A to-do list that may or may not pan out six months into the year just screams for a guilt party of one. Instead, I write a few of the year’s biggest disappointments on slips of paper and set those suckers afire. It may sound a little hippy dippy, and that’s all right by me. It’s important to shed the excess weight of auld lang syne.
Then I use that same pad of paper to write out my hopes and dreams for the pending year. And for the record, you can bet shedding pounds isn’t one of them. The way I see it, after I’m gone from this world many moons from now, no one will ever mention what a pretty corpse I made. But, by golly, I hope to leave a mark of some loving sort.
As those pots of soup simmer, me and my buds don our best flannels and slippers and have more fun than we know what to do with. After all, the key to this shade of happy is all about balance. If this rings your bell, there’s nary an angel getting its wings. You’re just into what the young’uns these days are calling “self care.” By tempering the deep stuff with a lively round of board games, a healthy dose of Netflix and a smidge of DIY home spa, January 1 will be less about nursing a hangover and more about beginning the year loving the most important person – YOU.
So, here’s the scoop on how I plan to ease into the wee hours of 2020 that you could make your own.
Once you’ve settled on the guest list, using online invite sites like Paperless Post and Evite, offer a way to engage with them way before the countdown begins. Encourage invitees to post their favorite flicks on the messaging feature to stream at the party and include details such as “pajamas required” and “underwires need not apply.” Then during the shindig guests can post images and videos for posterity.
There’s always going to be that one stinker claiming they sleep “nekkid” as the reason why they didn’t come in their “pjs.” Thank God for these small blessings. I’m not suggesting some sort of mutiny here, but if it’s going to be a pajama party, street clothes are considered contraband and are a punishable offense. Wash up a few fun jammie sets from the thrift store and load ‘em up in a basket by the door to save your pj pessimists from rightful heckles. Once everybody’s set with appropriate attire, let the good times roll.
I like to offer mini-spa treatments such as this easy homemade sugar scrub recipe in a pretty bowl by the bathroom sink. Add a stack of moistened hot towels and you’re in business. Or, put the recipe in small mason jars for a party favor:
SUGAR SCRUB
- 1 cup raw sugar
- ½ cup coconut or almond oil
- Essential oils to your liking
Choose from your guests’ movie picks a few favorites to put in your Netflix queue. Same goes for your Spotify playlist. If your party is a kid-friendly party, set up a separate party room for kids.
Pajama parties are certainly for kids of all ages. But, let’s face it. Not all ages paint with the same shade. Netflix also offers a litany of NYE countdown choices that the kiddos would digwhile the grownups clamor for more cava. Consider ordering a few Ubers ahead of time in available areas for those who got a little too thirsty. In keeping with the soup menu, grilled cheese and tomato soup will be a big hit with the littles.
Because soups are almost always better the second day, pre-making soup feeds two birds with one seed as it’ll keep you chill on New Year’s Eve. A couple of hours prior to the party, set to simmer and stir on occasion. Make the party interactive by simmering in different colored pots and when someone asks if they can help you can point them to their assigned color. You may opt to course out the batches, or serve them as a flight. Or even better, set a soup buffet so that guests can serve themselves as they like. Add a toppings station of cheese, scallions, crumbled bacon, croutons and whatever else you might find in the fridge. The name of the game here is to keep it simple.
“I write a few of the year’s biggest disappointments on slips of paper and set those suckers afire."
One of my favorite no fuss soup recipes is to steam or roast my favorite vegetables and herbs and puree with a can of unsweetened coconut and dash of curry. This can be served as is for a vegan option and then offer an array of smoked meats and peppers to stir into individual servings for a carnivorous riff on Mulligatawny.
But, don’t forget to stir the proverbial pot. The poem “Auld Lang Syne” written by Robert Burns in 1788 translates to mean “a long time ago.” So, put the past where it belongs– in the past. Have pads of paper and pens handy where guests can write out the parts of their previous year which might need to be forgotten and can be thrown into the fireplace. Or, make a shredder available and use the shreds for packing up holiday ornaments later. Once the past is put in its rightful place, on those same pads of paper, encourage guests to scroll their best New Years wishes for themselves. They can hang onto them for simple reminders throughout the new year. When the next pajama party rolls around “all grief and sorrow takes the flight, and speedily is gone,” as the song goes.
Come the morning of New Year’s Day, those guests who decided to stay for a real honest-to-goodness slumber party can enjoy a bowl of the final soup of the party, Black Eyed Peas and Greens.
The legacy of this lucky legume, also known as cowpeas, comes from many cultures. In the South, the story goes that cowpeas were considered only fit for the animals during Civil War days. This sort of notion is an example of how racism permeates culture right down to the foods we eat. When General Sherman’s Union troops were raiding the pantries of Southern homes, they would take everything but the lowly cowpea. A family could survive many cold nights on this meager ration. Still, for slaves during that time the cowpea not only provided vital nutrition but it also reminded them of home as they vigilantly brought the seeds from their African motherland. And, on January 1, 1863 the more than 3 million enslaved people who were then freed, celebrated with a reminder of what sustained them — Cowpeas.