When to stop, and the warmth of congee

A recipe for rice porridge

Welcome! This Substack offers seasonal reflections and an original recipe (scroll down to learn how to make congee!).

If you’re looking for more support in the kitchen, I’m currently booking winter and spring virtual + in-person classes for individuals and groups. You can find out more or book a time for an exploratory call here:

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I recently took a quick work trip to New York. On my flight back, I noticed a familiar face at my gate — a man dressed in black with round-rimmed glasses framing warm eyes, hunched over his phone, yet somehow poised gracefully. Is that my college art professor? What are the chances?

I walked up to him and asked him if he was, in fact, the person I thought he was. “I don’t know if you remember me, but I was your student,” I said, and I told him my maiden name. “Oh Sonya, I vividly remember you. You took my class at Reed, right?” He had been a visiting professor, only teaching at Reed for a year, but he was undeniably one of my most influential educators.

I told him about the lasting impact of his class, how much his teaching meant to me, and that I am currently living a life doing creative work — albeit not as a visual artist. He was moved, but unmistakably humble.

I decided to share with him a particular moment that has stayed with me for over two decades. One day in his figure drawing class, we were sketching as usual, when he ran up behind me and urgently said: “Stop! Just stop! Not another mark!” He proceeded to grab the paper off my easel and hold it up to the class as an example of the economy of line. I remember wanting to crawl into a corner and hide, while simultaneously filled with the warmth of his praise. At the time, I didn’t realize how much this kind of boost of encouragement could matter, but more than that, it was a forever lesson in not overworking my work. His response: “I wish someone would have done the same for me a few times when I needed to put the pencil down.” They began boarding our plane and I asked, “Why were you visiting New York?” He answered: “To see things.”

To this day, I often hear his voice telling me when to put the pen (or keyboard) down… when to step away.

The timing of this encounter felt poignant. At the end of last year, I imagined starting off January with a stream of new content, work, and output. But while the Gregorian calendar asks us to build anew, to start fresh, it is still in fact deep winter. The call to go inward has been deafening the past few weeks. The flow of creativity was elsewhere — not least of which because of the circumstances of this precise time.

Even in the coldest winter, heat can come. The incomprehensible L.A. fires, a new administration, and on a personal level, we unexpectedly have to move. Next week, we will be settling into a new home in a new neighborhood in Portland. In all the shifts, chaos, and uncertainty — in little corners and pockets everywhere — I’m leaning on rituals: lighting candles on Shabbat, gathering with close friends for the new moon, and going to the farmers’ market every week.

Thinking about rituals and habits, the fuzzy line between them, and watching countless interviews with David Lynch since his passing, I was struck by Lynch’s relationship with routine:

“For seven years I ate at Bob’s Big Boy. I would go at 2:30, after the lunch rush. I ate a chocolate shake and four, five, six, seven cups of coffee—with lots of sugar. And there’s lots of sugar in that chocolate shake. It’s a thick shake. In a silver goblet. I would get a rush from all this sugar, and I would get so many ideas!”

Further explaining his daily milkshake:

“I like habitual behavior because it’s a known factor,” he says, “and then your mind is free to think about other things.”

I appreciate that one day, after seven years, Lynch just stopped going. I imagine he found a new daily practice that made his mind feel equally free. The kind of freedom that is born from ritual.

Before my encounter at the airport with my former professor, I had started packing for our move. A few days before I left for New York, I was sifting through old art. I found the drawing from his class — the same one he had held up in front of everyone. Even after all these years, the lines were striking and familiar. I stared at it, remembering that moment in the art room at Reed, with its unmistakable smell of woody newsprint paper and oily dried paint.

I remembered how good it felt to draw a line that could capture the strength of the human form.

A quick stop at Zabar’s — the happiest place on Earth

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On busy days, chaotic days, dreary days, or “the-news-is-too-much” days, I find comfort in making a nourishing, homey meal. I fell in love with rice porridge when I first went to (now-closed) Porridge & Puffs in Los Angeles. As luck would have it, I had the opportunity to collaborate with the restaurant’s chef: Minh Phan. For one of our meetings, she invited me for breakfast at a spot in Thai Town known for congee, awakening me to the pleasure of eating it at the start of the day.

Congee is also my go-to “What do I cook when I don’t know what to make?” meal. It can be made on a stovetop, or in an Instant Pot (yes, I am a fan of this appliance). Below is a simple recipe for both, with suggestions for toppings.

RECIPE: CONGEE
Stovetop or Instant Pot

Serves 4

STOVETOP CONGEE

Ingredients:
1 cup short grain white rice or Jasmine rice, rinsed
8 cups good-quality stock, or water with added bouillon (plus more if needed)
½ teaspoon kosher or sea salt, plus more for seasoning
1-inch knob of ginger, peeled and sliced thin

Directions:
To a large pot, add stock, rice, salt, and ginger. Bring the mixture to a boil, then reduce the heat to a low simmer. Stir occasionally so that the rice doesn't clump or stick to the bottom.

Simmer the congee on very low for about 40-50 minutes, or until the congee is thickened and creamy. If it becomes too thick for your liking, add more stock or water and continue to simmer. Add salt to taste.

INSTANT POT CONGEE

Serves 4

Ingredients:
1 cup Jasmine or short grain white rice, rinsed
6 cups good-quality stock, or water with added bouillon
½ teaspoon kosher or sea salt
1-inch knob of fresh ginger, peeled and thinly sliced

Directions:
To the Instant Pot add rice, stock, salt, and ginger. Cover and cook either on the porridge setting or at high pressure for 30 minutes. Allow the pressure to release naturally.

Uncover the pot and taste, adding more salt and pepper if needed. If it looks too thick, stir in some hot water

Congee toppings:

Sautéed mushrooms, soft-boiled egg, crispy tofu, sautéed greens, thinly sliced scallions or snap peas, freshly chopped cilantro, toasted chopped peanuts, toasted sesame seeds, sesame oil, tamari, chili crisp, or sriracha.

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You can find more recipes at www.sonyasanford.com and on Instagram @sonyamichellesanford

For more help in the kitchen, tune into the Food Friends: Home Cooking Made Easy podcast.