American Sabbath

I've come to think of Thanksgiving as the American Sabbath. There is a moment around which it all revolves (it is akin to the candlelighting of the Jewish Sabbath), where we get a sense that the world as we know it has come to a stop, where we take part in a collective suspension of busy-making, where we don't have to be doing something or getting back to somebody about something, where we leave the spatial world and move into the temporal world, where considerations of gratitude and hope and empathy and love trump the less elevated instincts that pepper our days. Not an easy trick... but for a moment on Thanksgiving, hopefully we can find it together. Oh but listen to me, I'm starting to sound like a holiday card. In any event, thank you to those of you who ordered from our Thanksgiving menu and are welcoming Soup Peddler to your table... we are honored by the invitation.