Jill Underly

This recipe is just too good to not share. I only make prime rib once a year, and there is some pressure with that, considering it's an expensive cut of meat, and if you mess it up, that's a lot of wasted money and disappointed eaters. The Dry Rib Rub Makes more than you need, so you'll keep the remaining rub for a future roast. It's great on pork, chicken, and beef. 1/3 cup kosher salt 3 tablespoons dry mustard 4 teaspoons coarsely ground pepper 1 tablespoon granulated garlic or dried minced garlic, or 1 1/2 teaspoons garlic powder 1 tablespoon onion powder 2 teaspoons dried thyme, crushed 2 teaspoons ground coriander 2 teaspoons celery seeds For the Roast: 1 tablespoon olive oil 1 4-6 pound (or whatever pound you want, you'll just adjust the time needed to cook) beef rib roast (bone-in or boneless), or 4-6 pound pork loin center rib roast (just loosen the backbone) Directions:  1. Make the dry rub, set aside 1/4 cup. Transfer the remainder to a jar or plastic bag....

Every year, when the calendar turns to December, something inside me exhales. The world outside seems to dim and hush, but inside—inside my home, inside my chest—things glow a little warmer. Advent has always been my favorite season. I love the idea of waiting, expecting, holding space for what is not yet but is surely on its way. It reminds me of the most sacred waiting of my life: being pregnant with my first child, who arrived nineteen years ago today, on St. Nicholas Day. This morning, I’m writing from the family room, the fireplace quietly humming along, a kitty cat curled near my feet. The Christmas tree is lit, but only with lights—no ornaments yet—and the room feels soft and contemplative in that particular way December knows how to be. Advent does this to me: it slows me down, invites me to notice the small glimmers in the dim places. It’s impossible to sit in this kind of stillness without missing people. December is full of memory. Full of absences. Full of the small ritua...