This is my favorite time of year—not just because of the highly marathon-able movie options, but also because of the feasts. When it comes to multi-course meals I probably max out at about three quality dishes (maybe 3.5), but that will never stop me from pushing far beyond those natural limits at the slightest provocation. During peak feast season (aka now) my one and only goal is to be able to stand before the table and declare, if only to myself: “Yea, I alone have accomplished this” (just before invariably realizing that something is still on the stove/in the fridge/in the car).
An example: After hosting our first Thanksgiving post-Covid, I was still in the throes of my “behold this” state when someone mentioned pies. “Not today, Satan!” I thought, as I made my way back to the kitchen, where several desserts were ready for the oven. At this point, Caroline, my wife (and the provider of said pies), said something about the pies over the din of the table, to which I raised my hand and nodded at her reassuringly. (She’d used Nicole Rucker’s recipe for a kabocha squash pie, which we were all very excited about, so I made a mental note to keep a particular eye on that one).
Twenty minutes later, a distinct burning smell wafted into the dining room. ‘Can’t be the pies!” I assured everyone, “I just put those in!” And yet when I opened the oven I was greeted with a deathly blast of hot smoke. “Did you put the one that was cooling back in the oven!?” Caroline asked — and I had no problem hearing her this time around. Indeed, that is what I had done. I had twice-baked the kabocha squash pie, to my everlasting shame.
There’s a moral here, but it has nothing to do with me paying more attention to less dishes (and anyway I wouldn’t make that change for a thousand once-baked pies!); rather, it’s a reminder that human beings are not potatoes; for us, one bake is enough. So this holiday season, I urge you: consider leaving well enough alone. For me, this means leaving behind license plates and strip malls and seeking out some new unfavored LA staple to cover (leave your ideas in the comments!). For you, it could be anything, and maybe you’ll find some inspiration in the cultural events below!
Does that conclusion naturally follow from the story of the twice-baked pie? Uh, maybe not, but this pie is hereby baked, so we’re past all that now! (See how easy that is!)
- Daniel Harmon
Cultural Events
Clockwise from L to R: SML, Visuals by Ariel Fisher/New York Times; MAK Center; Film Still from The Apartment, Courtesy of United Artists; LA Phil; Christmas Tree Lane Archive; LA Harbor Holiday Boat Parade.
🎶
Dec 1-3 - SML (Zebulon) The year 2020 (a time of lockdown for us all, and a growing pregnancy for me) is colored in my memory by the beautiful music that would waft into my house from our backhouse neighbors, Anna Butterss and Josh Johnson. Every day I would get to listen in as they played their cello and sax, which felt like a secret gift in an uncertain time. Aside from being lovely people, Anna and Josh are part of a quintet who are at the leading edge of the contemporary jazz scene in LA, and one time fixtures at ETA (RIP). They will be playing 3 shows at Zebulon to kick off this month, which is a gift to us all. (BK)
🎬
Dec 5-18 - Kill Bill (The Vista Theater) I know there are many heart-warming movies to plug this season, but seeing both Kill Bills (“The Whole Bloody Affair”) in Tarantino’s own Vista theater feels like the kind of fest I am personally after. The gift I will be giving myself this season is setting some time aside to tuck into one of the Vista’s old school chairs while this swaggering, phenomenally soundtracked revenge runs its course over a blissful 4 hours and 35min. (BK)
🎄
Dec 6 - Annual Lighting Ceremony (Christmas Tree Lane, Altadena) I’ll never forget going to Altadena’s Christmas Tree Lane lighting ceremony for the first time in 2021. The centennial was being celebrated a year late due to the pandemic and I was overcome by the sense of joy and community back then. This year, the event will carry even more significance. Determined to seize the moment as one of celebration while also holding space for what’s been lost, the CTLA (Christmas Tree Lane Association) has planned a special ceremony memorializing the people, homes and neighborhoods lost to the Eaton Fire. Joy and grief will exist together among the 10,000 lights, holiday carolers, hot chocolate, and a special visit from Santa Claus. We love you Altadena. (MR)
🛥️
Dec 6 - L.A. Harbor Holiday Boat Parade (San Pedro) There are a lot of great holiday lights situations around L.A., and I’ve never been to this particular one, but I will say that taking a long cold drive down to San Pedro is a weirdly festive experience? Instead of taking a Christmas day hike one year, we drove down there just looking for an alternative to a hike — and we had a great time! (Marine life: very cool!) The boat parade is “the leading holiday event in the Port of Los Angeles,” and they’ve been doing this now for 63 years! Ho ho holy crap! (DH)
🎶
December 7, 14, 21, 28 - Sunday Night Jazz (The Barkley) We’ve long wanted to highlight The Baked Potato Jazz Club, and even though now would be the perfect time, potato-wise, none of us has yet managed to pay a visit. In its stead, however, may I propose another jazz locale that I have visited: The Barkley. It’s a homey old place and on Sunday nights the Richard Glaser Quartet plays the hits for a relaxed crowd, with audience members joining in when invited. It’s a lovely, life-affirming neighborhood occasion. (DH)
🌱
Dec 7 - Sunflower Seed Processing Workshop (MAK Center) As we close out 2025, the MAK Center offers a hands-on sunflower seed-processing workshop led by Altadena Seed Library founder Nina Raj. This meditative session, in which participants will be sorting locally gathered seeds, complements the concurrent exhibition The Future is Fragile, featuring Agnes Denes' environmental art. Approaching the one-year anniversary of the fires, it's a quiet, hopeful act of looking forward and honoring what has been endured. (BK)
🎪
Dec 13 - Holiday Family Faire and It’s a Wonderful Life Radio Play (Will Geer Theatricum Botanicum) Okay, this listing made me gasp, positively. In addition to a holiday marketplace (classic), carolers (vintage), and food and drink options (essential for survival), this beautiful venue will also play host to a live reading of a certified top-3 Christmas story, which may or may not feature Pamela Adlon (the Time Out listing asserts this, but her name’s not on the actual site yet). I will definitely be there and be square, and I hope you will be too. (DH)
🎄
Dec 16-24 - Las Posadas (Olvera Street) Music, free desserts, and a reenactment of Mary and Joseph’s quest to find a bed for the night is the stuff that childhood memories are made of. The fact that this particular rendering is a decades-old tradition at one of LA’s most iconic locales also helps with that feeling that you’re part of something bigger than yourself, even if you’re not a practicing Catholic. (DH)
🎶
Dec 20-21 - Duke Ellington’s Nutcracker Suite (Walt Disney Concert Hall) We’ve been going to POP’s Messiah Sing-Along event for our holiday music fix the last couple of years, but they’re taking the year off this time around, so we’ll have to find something new. There’s a “holiday music around the world” thing that’s happening in Sherman Oaks, but I think it might be time to just splurge and listen to the LA Phil perform an old classic reimagined by an American icon. (DH)
🎶
Dec 21 - Grief Choir (Philosophical Research Society) Not to be a downer, but we all know the holidays, while filled with love and glitter, can also be a challenging time. I’ve been noticing a plethora of events this year that explore themes of grief and death, and have even written about them on this newsletter (ie, Death Café, The Cortège). I think it’s healthy to explore our relationship to the inevitable and, even better, to process in community—something our culture shies away from. Maybe we would be better off if we faced it head on. (MR)
🎬
Dec 27 - The Apartment (The New Beverly) I’ve been playing a lot of gin lately (which weirdly turns out to be a great card game for kids?), and every time I deal a hand I can’t help thinking of the closing scene of The Apartment, which is unusually great as an ending, but not unusually great for the movie, which is steeped in excellence. And although I’m not sure if my kids are going to like it quite as much as they like the card game, I’ll be damned if I am not going to force them to try it out. Anyway, it’s never too soon to learn that life is cruel but that decency (aka Jack Lemmon) still matters. Also, it’s a perfect way to extend that holiday feeling, as the movie features poignant New Year’s Eve moments along with its famously raucous Christmas party. (DH)
Ode to a Strip Mall: A Sonnet
Last year we capped off our license plate coverage by identifying one clear and obvious winner (BAA BAA black jeep), but this year it’s not so easy. Every strip mall has its time and place. In place of that misguided effort, I thought it would perhaps be more fitting to write a literal ode. But odes are long and time is short, so I scaled this down to a sonnet instead. Either way, it’s a celebration.
The City Roars Like Beast-Infested Seas
The city roars like beast-infested seas. (And creaks some, too, like gears on rusted bikes.) Those bellowed sounds, though, soften to a wheeze, As I approach my beacon: Jersey Mike’s.
New weeds show there’s still life in these old haunts— Which, like the billboards, slowly decompose. This is an Eden, ripe with restaurants (Plus probing rats and roaches, watchful crows).
Below me, bones (ex-chicken wings?) may point Towárd a finer place, a better time. That pizza box beside them, though, anoints The concrete here and now: this mall; this grime.
An island is a desert framed with shores; A strip mall is a home with open doors.
- Daniel Harmon
Thanks for spending the year with us. See you in 2026 ✌️
