Some of my favorite Shabbatot just might be the mismatched napkin Shabbatot.
After weeks of Shabbat–Chag–Shabbat–Chag on repeat, we’ve finally arrived at this last stretch — the quiet after the beautiful storm. Every meal up until now has been carefully planned and layered with intention: which dishes to serve, who to invite, how to set the table, which napkins would match which moment.
And now? What’s left are the runts. The leftovers. The stack of napkins that didn’t make the cut. The too-small sets, the last few from a favorite pattern, the odd ones out. But this week, they’re taking center stage.
This Shabbat is the one that feels like an exhale — no big crowds, no complicated menus. Just us and our closest friends, tucked around the table. It’s comfortable and easy. No one cares if the napkins match. We’re here for the conversation, the laughter, the food, and the quiet joy of being together.
There’s something sweet about this kind of table — a little bit messy, unpolished, and perfectly us. Maybe it’s because it’s in these quieter Shabbatot that the heart of it all feels clearest: the people we love, the food we share, and the small, mismatched details that make it real.
Side note: It’s kind of incredible I haven’t yet written a full ode (or a sonnet!) to my love of napkins. I’m sure it’s coming. Equally incredible? How come more of us aren’t talking about this? Shouldn’t this be a pretty common problem?✨