By New Year's Eve. The last night of 2024. A year that held two weddings, a knee surgery, a new great-grandchild, a graduation, and more food than I can count. I am sitting in my kitchen at eleven p.m. with a cup of tea and my journal — volume twenty-seven — and I am writing down the year the way I write down every year: in lists and meals and moments.
The 2024 list: Kayla married Devon in April. Monique married James in June. Wayne Jr. was born in May. Andre graduated in November. My left knee was replaced in August. The Cherokee Purples were the best in six years. The peach cobbler beat Gladys again. The Lowcountry boil fed two hundred and seventeen people. The cast iron skillet did not break. The garden did not fail. The family did not shrink. We added — spouses, a baby, a degree, a titanium joint — and the adding is the living, and the living was good this year.
The losses: nothing permanent this year. No deaths. No funerals. No sitting in the third pew in black. Ruthie Mae is still in Augusta, still foggy, still sometimes knowing me and sometimes not — but she is alive, and alive is the category I'm counting. This was a year of addition, not subtraction. I am not naive enough to think every year will be like this. I have lived too long and buried too many to believe in permanent addition. But this year was good. This year was full. This year was a table with twenty-six chairs and every one of them occupied, including the empty one that is always occupied by the man who isn't here.
I will not stay up until midnight. I am sixty-eight years old and midnight is for people who have something to prove. I have nothing to prove. I have a kitchen and a family and a cast iron skillet and a new knee and a God who has kept me breathing for twenty-five thousand and some days, and if He wants me to see 2025, He'll wake me up in the morning, and if He doesn't, then I've already cooked the last meal I needed to cook, and it was good.
Made black-eyed peas and rice tonight. The New Year's dish. The luck dish. The tradition that says: eat black-eyed peas on New Year's and the year will be kind. I don't believe in luck. I believe in preparation and faith and standing at the stove when standing is hard. But I make the peas anyway, because tradition is not about belief. Tradition is about belonging. And I belong to this kitchen, this family, this food, this night.
Happy New Year, baby. Now go on and feed somebody.
The black-eyed peas were already simmering when I remembered I’d set these firecracker cherries to soak that morning — a little something sweet for whoever might wander through before the clock turned. A year that held two weddings and a new baby deserves more than one dish on the counter, and these cherries have just enough spark to them to feel right for a night like this. Cola and cayenne and cold from the refrigerator, bold without being fussy — exactly the kind of thing you put out quietly and let people find on their own.
Cola Soaked Firecracker Cherries
Prep Time: 10 minutes | Soak Time: 4 hours (or overnight) | Total Time: 4 hours 10 minutes | Servings: 8
Ingredients
- 2 lbs dark sweet cherries, pitted (fresh or frozen and thawed)
- 1 (12 oz) can cola (regular, not diet)
- 1/4 cup maraschino cherry juice
- 2 tablespoons granulated sugar
- 1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper
- 1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
- 1 tablespoon fresh lime juice
- Pinch of salt
Instructions
- Mix the brine. In a large bowl or wide-mouth jar, combine the cola, maraschino cherry juice, sugar, cayenne, cinnamon, lime juice, and salt. Stir until the sugar is fully dissolved.
- Add the cherries. Add the pitted cherries to the brine and stir gently to coat. The liquid should mostly cover the fruit — press down lightly if needed.
- Refrigerate. Cover the bowl or seal the jar and refrigerate for at least 4 hours. Overnight is better — the flavor deepens and the cola softens the cherries just enough without losing their bite.
- Taste and adjust. Before serving, taste a cherry. If you want more heat, add a pinch more cayenne and let sit another 30 minutes. If it’s too bold, stir in a teaspoon of honey to round it out.
- Serve. Serve cold with a slotted spoon. These are good on their own, spooned over vanilla ice cream, or alongside a cheese board. The soaking liquid is worth saving — it makes a fine addition to a glass of sparkling water.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 98 | Protein: 1g | Fat: 0g | Carbs: 25g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 18mg