#3
Rhythm found. The best food yet. #3 kicked off 2023 and a ramp up of Sabbatum dinners to come. More dates and photos below.
4 February 2023 - London: I’m so happy at what is becoming a consistent reaction to our dinners in Dalston. The food this time was off the charts (I say this every time, but the food keeps impressing and improving) in large part thanks to my cousin Al helping in the kitchen. The vibe also took off.
Find upcoming dinner dates (and more photos from 4 February) at the bottom of this post. Let me know if you want to join us next time.
On the menu at #3
A cheesy white onion soup that was so fatty you could overdose if not careful - divine. Served with a purple splash of beetroot and carrot puree.
Next, sea bass and salsa verde; lentil,beetroot and feta salad; the crispiest roast potatoes on the planet. They were brought to life with a drizzle of salsa verde and purple carrot puree and garnished with red onions cured in lime which gives them an electric pink colour.
Dessert was a coconut and rum rice pudding dusted with cocoa powder. Al bacio!
A few friends were seen off with a shot of our regular Drambuie and coffee, while others stayed for a salut after midnight.
A gong-like banging coming from the heavens turned out to be an angry neighbour telling us to shut up and so the night came to a close.
I sense from some invitees who didn’t end up coming that the gist of the Sabbatum experience is lost on them. As though I’m charging friends invited to my place for dinner. This is a three-course meal in a lovely venue with a well-curated group of people. A place to truly connect with new people, with no strings attached. No “networking” or “dating”. Just people together, eating, drinking and laughing.
So if you’re reading this and have yet to accept an invite, do it once! If you don’t want to return I’ll give you your money back. If you have attended, spread the word with those who you think would appreciate it.
Six days after Sabbatum #3 I was having dinner with a rabbi. A young rabbi, not much older than me, had invited ten friends to his home. I was a plus one. Things were, as expected, pleasant and warm. But it wasn’t until after dessert that the magic of dinner - granted, a religious dinner - began to blossom.
The rabbi shared the portion of the Torah that’s read during the week’s prayers, covering the festival of nature which aligns with the early beginnings of spring. We took a moment to consider the annual transition from the dark days of winter to the budding brighter days ahead, and the weekly transition from work to weekend. The rabbi then invited us to share anything that had been on our minds this week.
At first, an awkward silence. But then, someone began to share. We all talked about the wider world we perceive and how it relates to our own lives, the culture we inhabit, the narratives that swirl around, prominent but invisible, as if a flavour in the air we breathe.
We soon arrived on a point I’ve pondered on for a while. The sense that some aspects of modern life, with its consumerism, scrolling and the importance of achievement in the eyes of others, can seem a means of plugging a spiritual void.
My parents never really explained their rule to make Shabbat dinner compulsory for each of my sisters and I until we turned 18. My parents couldn’t articulate it - the value of weekly Friday night dinners was an intuition based on their experience. I would rage at not getting a logical explanation for missing parties with friends.
But while I sat there at the rabbi’s dinner table, contemplating with friends our physical and spiritual world, I better understood my parents’ rule. In a world that seems to weigh heavy on the shoulders of young people, where true connection beyond networking events, online dating and social media seems ever more elusive, there’s something to learn from the Jewish ritual.1
Sabbatum is a place where the joys of Shabbat dinner are teased out into a Saturday evening party atmosphere. There’s no prior goal of networking, learning or finding romance. It’s a space to step away from the pressures of our lives and the world. A reminder and celebration of life’s simple beauty: an intimate dinner with good people.
Unfortunately, I don’t have the power of god to coerce you into joining, but I’d encourage you to try it and see how it makes you feel.
Our next date is: Saturday, 25th February
Please reach out if you’d like to attend.
Here’s to life!
— Oli
It turns out my parents gave me something many long for. A 2010 study found that two thirds of UK children yearn for the tradition of family meals and as many as 10% of UK families report never eating meals together at all. (Montgomery, Happy City, 2013)