The Hot Cocoa Edition
A funky hot chocolate recipe directory, stories of winter nostalgia, and chapter 3 of the much-anticipated fictional saga — Genevieve and Rose.
Happy Monday, and welcome to Feeling! Magazine’s Monday Letter! This is a once-weekly letter made to feel like a magazine flip-through, purposefully designed to help you feel joy.
Feeling of the Week: a mood board concept of a design direction for your week.
NOVEMBER 17th: HOT COCOA
This week is about hot chocolate. It should have a resurgence of popularity this year, I believe. This is the classic nostalgic beverage of Christmas. We’ve all had the packet mix in hot water and styrofoam cups at the elementary school Christmas party. But hopefully, we’ve experienced a more gourmet option too. If not, this is your week to make one for yourself and report back.
Fluffy marshmallows, freezing outdoors, jazz music playing, hot cocoa in hand.
image source board
Colors of the week: Cocoa mix + melting marshmallow, for obvious reasons.
I have sourced a Hot Chocolate Recipe Directory for you. Please use it to have a lot of fun.
Hot Cocoa Mix: East Fork has a hot chocolate mix that would pair perfectly with one of their mugs for a sweet gift for co-workers, teachers, or friends.
Boy Smells Salty Caramel Candle: I am usually not a fan of sweet scents, but this one makes my entire apartment smell like a magical holiday movie — without being overbearingly vanilla. Plus, the checker pattern on the vessel glows beautifully.
Smeg Milk Frother: If you really want to step up your hot chocolate game, a Smeg milk frother is the way to do it. This will elevate tea lattes, coffees — basically any warm, cozy beverage you are planning on making this winter.
Cinnamon Roll Hot Chocolate: A fresh take on a classic blend to have in your hot chocolate arsenal, now that we’ve collectively agreed this is the winter of bringing hot cocoa back.
Alex Mill Chocolate Sweater: If drinking it is not enough, wrap yourself in the feeling of warm cocoa with a knit, tailored sweater.
Striped Mug: I often get asked where my favorite mug is from, because it’s BIG! I like a BIG cup of tea, and this one is the perfect size.
Hot Cocoa Balm Dotcom: Take the sweet, sweet hot cocoa flavor with you wherever you go with Glossier’s hot cocoa lip balm.
Hey, so you all made me cry multiple times! I asked readers to share their favorite nostalgic Christmas/winter memory in the comments of this post. And you shared precious stories and memories that absolutely filled my heart up and reminded me of why I’m making a magazine about joy in the first place.
We need these reminders of hope and beauty. We need to share them with each other. Here are some responses to fill your heart:
: “My favorite/nostalgic winter memory: I grew up in an area where it rarely snowed on Christmas. One year, my little sister wished for a white Christmas (she wrote to Santa clause asking for just this). We woke up Christmas morning to our front yard and driveway under a 6 inches of snow. None of our neighbors got any- just us. It was magic! We spent all day building snowmen and making snow angels. When we got older we learned that our dad had made multiple trips to the local ice rink late the night before. Shoveling the leftover shavings from the rink into the bed of his old Ford pick up and spreading them outside our house. I will always cherish this memory and the love and creativity that went into that gift.”
: “My favourite winter memory was making snowman with the kids when they were younger. We just got our first house after living in a women’s refuge for a year. This was the year we felt free to do what we wanted without fear.”
: “My favorite winter memory is a classic, and i will treasure it forever. Christmas time for me always began the moment i rang the doorbell after school, note and checks bright red, tiny droplets trapped in my hair, and my grandma welcomed me home with a warm hug. When she let go and I found flour paintings on my wet jacket, looked back at her, smiling widely and clothed in her self-sewn red and white apron, I could practically hear the sleigh bells ringing. I would race to her kitchen and find a bowl of pale dough, smelling of butter, sugar and most importantly, anise.My favorite. She would hand me the utensils and one by one, I piped the soon to be cookies on the lined tray, sneaking in spoonfuls of the mixture that I just had to devour on the spot. My grandma pretended that she didn’t notice. You can picture the rest- watching the treats rise in the oven, then sitting on the couch with a box of them, filled to the brim, a mug of hot cocoa in my hands, snuggling with my grandparents.
These moments are forever locked inside my heart.”
: “nostalgic winter memory: the last day before winter break when you weren’t doing schoolwork, just watching the Polar Express in class and making arts and crafts. You got early dismissal from school and go to the mall with your mom to finish Christmas shopping then come home and make hot cocoa on the stove.”
: “My favorite winter nostalgic memory is the snow days. In the early 90s/2000s, the entire neighborhood would come out for snow days and all the neighborhood children would share sleds. We’d play until the cold would seep into our bones and then eagerly go inside, with my mother making a hot soup and hot chocolate for lunch. I’d rest my exhausted limbs and then spend the evening reading, watching the snow fall.”
: “My favorite winter memory is when my high school sweetheart and I went to a movie night on our church’s lawn. Everything about that night was warm and fuzzy! I had just learned to crochet that year, so I gave him my very first project, which was a scarf. After I gave him his present, he introduced me to his friends that were at the event, and that was super special to me. We watched the movie on his family’s picnic blanket, and once the movie was finished, we packed everything up and started heading back to our cars. As we walked in the chilly night, he asked me if I wanted to hold his hand (this is where I would insert a teary-eyed emoji). He was my first boyfriend, so it was an indelible experience that still makes me smile. Looking back on it all, it was so pure and innocent-it was puppy love in every sense of the word, and I’m so glad I have such a precious memory to hold in my heart :)”
: “My favorite nostalgic memory of winter was going to the tree farm to pick out our tree and walking through the snowy farm. After we picked it out and chopped it down, there would be hot mulled cider in the barn. It was always a little bit too hot but sipping that hot cider after walking through the cold is such a classic winter memory for me. Now I’m thinking I want to host a gathering this winter and make some mulled cider on the stovetop to recreate the memory, thanks for the inspiration Jenna!”
Please keep reading more answers, and leave your own memories here. This was so precious.
✶ For this week’s chat, I need your help! I am working on a story about turning home into a “third space.” While home and work are typically thought of as first & second spaces — third spaces are essential to communities: places like the baseball field, the coffee shop, concert venue, or library. Places not implicitly made for work, but for gathering. As the expense of going out, or even grabbing a latte in 2025, can deter us from gathering in traditional third spaces, can we turn our own spaces as a solution? The home café trend has taken off, dinner parties are trending, what are the implications of this shift?
My question for my readers — have you ever used your home as a “third space” and what benefits did you see? How would you teach someone to do this in their community?
In lieu of sharing recent works from Feeling!, I wanted to share something much more personal.
As the leaves change and the New York landscape shifts, I find myself longing for the familiar. This last month, I have returned to songs that meant a great deal to me in times past. Songs that carried me through stuff. And I was delighted to find that they still held me. I thought about sharing these on Instagram, because I want people to hear them.
But then I thought how silly that is because Substack is where people want to get wrecked by words. You get it. So I am sharing some songs whose words got me through stuff. Hearing these makes me want to write better and be able to express feelings in a way for others that these artists have mastered. I hope you like my mixtape, it feels very personal to hand it over, haha. I am much moodier than my colorful world appears. I mean, why do you think I like color so much? I think I need it.
“Cars” by Marc Scibilia: When you are melancholic about the state of the world, AI, the increased disconnection for humans, and want to process it nostalgically. Should be triple platinum on Substack. “It’s just too dangerous, to be free to fall in love so, all day and all night they’re working on a prototype that’ll keep us away from harm and out of each other’s arms, and to say we’ve come so far. Can you believe? We used to drive cars.”
“The Story” by Brandi Carlile: For when you need to appreciate the person who has loved you through it all — and feel that surge of strong love. I listened to this while walking through Manhattan and people-watching the other day, and I cried, of course. All I do in this city is look at strangers and cry, haha. New York has made me a happy weepy baby.
“See the Love” by The Brilliance: When you are wearied by the weight of the world, and you just want to see love. This is another one I listened to on a long walk through the city recently. I had headphones in, and (of course) was crying as I looked around. To articulate further, I daily feel moved by my environment. I’ve never lived in a place that has so much juxtaposition. New York has the richest and the poorest, the healthiest and the sickest, the meanest and the kindest, the most depraved and the most wholesome — and often we are all walking on the same exact sidewalk. Every day here, I see someone care for someone else — carrying a stroller down the station stairs for a mom, feeding the hungry, I’ve seen people sit down next to someone begging in a train station just to talk to them. Moving here gave me two options — grow cold and tough to survive, or let it break me every day a bit. And now I’ve become the kind of woman who is just constantly wiping a tear away on the train because I’ve encountered an act of love, a piece of art, or a moment between strangers that hit me. I love New York.
“Love Ghost” by Night Beds: When you need a moment to just be. This song feels like a relief to me.
“Begging for Rain” by Maggie Rogers: Ughhh. When you’re mad and feel misunderstood.
“Only Hope” by Jon Foreman: My favorite lullaby of a hopeful release. (It sounds familiar because it was in A Walk to Remember, but my boy Jon wrote this perfect poem for us)
“Simple Song” by Miley Cyrus: For when you want to remember what it was like to be a moody middle schooler. And thusly remember that things get better. Also, her voice, c’mon.
“I Will Not Take My Love Away” by Matt Wertz: For when you need a lullaby to fall asleep.
“Thrive” by Switchfoot: When you don’t feel great and want to feel better — and you’re still holding out for the sunshine to come back.
Inspired by American Girl’s Coconut and Licorice, a fictional tale of my own dog and cat, Genevieve & Rose, will be coming to you in small chapters every week. Follow a whimsical story of a dog and cat duo navigating New York City when no one is looking. The story will have you on the edge of your seat, and perhaps so invested in their joyful, silly world so much that you pause scrolling just to sit with them for a bit.
The amazing mulit-chapter fictional story is written by Devon Taylor, D.B. Taylor of Paper Mirror.
Cozy up, relax, and enjoy a whimsical, light-hearted story. If you are just joining in, you can read Chapter 1 here, and Chapter 2 here.
Chapter 3: The Rain, the Mouse, and the Pack
They were forced to find an alternative route. Some spaces were far too small for poor Genevieve to fit through, and nearly too small for Rose.
“Nobody gets left behind!” ordered the mouse.
So, the three of them scurried through the rain. Genevieve had a sneaking suspicion that the mouse’s noble statement had less to do with wanting everyone together and more to do with not wanting to be alone with Rose.
They continued in silence, wet, chilly, soggy silence. The mouse darted only through alleys, no matter how narrow, no matter how mucky. Every few steps he would freeze at a sound, sniff the air dramatically, then—after a long minute—beckon them onward with a tiny wave.
“What is with this thing?” Rose muttered, flicking her drenched fur. Water dripped from her like a used towel. The mouse no longer cried, and she remained cold, wet, and grumpy.
Genevieve growled. “Rose, he’s helping us! I know you two have your differences, but could you please try to be kind for goodness’ sake?”
Rose recoiled. Genevieve almost never growled. The words hung heavy in the rain.
Dear reader, as much as we’d like to think otherwise, change takes time. Rose’s earlier sympathy for the little mouse had melted away, replaced by that old, mean whisper inside her head: Mice are stupid, smelly, tiny, and pointless. Unless she caught herself, she’d believe it again and again. Fortunately, Rose had a sister who loved her enough to tell her the truth, even when it stung.
The rain poured harder. Both Rose and the mouse began to shiver, the kind of full-body, silly shiver that shakes your ears and makes you smile after because, well, you must’ve looked ridiculous. By sheer coincidence, they both gave one of those shakes at the same moment, both noticing the other. For the first time, it seemed maybe cats and mice weren’t so different after all.
“Here!” barked Genevieve suddenly. She loved the rain; it reminded her of happy splashes and puddle days. But her friends were miserable, and she wanted to help.
Being the perfect height for such things, Genevieve trotted over to Rose and walked above her, matching her pace.
“What are you—” Rose began, but stopped when she realized she no longer felt the rain. Warmth covered her. “Thank you,” she said quietly. Purring, as silly as it sounds, Rose forgot what dryness felt like.
Beside her, the mouse hugged its tail, teeth rattling with every step.
“Mouse,” Rose called. “Come under me.”
Mr. Mouse hesitated for a moment. Cats love to play tricks on little mice, so he watched her with wary eyes.
“Come on, don’t be ridiculous! It’s freezing out there.” Rose smiled, beckoning the mouse once more.
Despite his fears, despite his past experiences with cats, he trusted Rose. Something about her just wanted him to—maybe it was just the cold. Or maybe the want for a new friend. Either way, the miserable little mouse lit up like a lantern. He scurried under the cat, who walked under the dog, who took all the rain away. Genevieve smiled because they smiled.
The walk grew warmer, brighter, softer. Only Genevieve bore the rain now, but she didn’t mind. Nothing made her happier than seeing two friends become friends themselves.
But then, a low growl cut through the peace.
Before they knew it, they were surrounded.
Everywhere they turned, dogs stood in the rain, big, small, fluffy, muddy, and mean. Some had big fat heads, others narrow snouts; some flashed sharp teeth, others silly grins. But every last one growled the same ugly growl.
The mouse dared not peek out. Rose trembled under Genevieve’s belly, her tail puffed like a feather duster.
“What’s the matter with you? You’re scaring us!” Genevieve yipped.
“Good!” snarled the largest dog, slobber flying. “You’re the one trying to bring the pigeons back. Well, don’t! They’re nothing but rats with wings!” He stopped to grin at the mouse. “No offense.”
The pack erupted with cruel laughter, the kind that has no joy in it at all.
“Enough!” Genevieve barked. “We’ve done nothing to you! The pigeons have done nothing to you!”
More laughter.
A skinny dog with a high, whiny voice slunk close to Genevieve’s face. “You think we’re awful, don’t you?”
“It took you this long to figure that out?” hissed Rose.
The skinny dog snarled, lowering his head toward her. Rose instinctively recoiled, tucking Mr. Mouse safely beneath her.
“Stop it! Just stop it!” Genevieve cried, bouncing on her paws, desperate for the bullies to back away.
“You love those pigeons so much, huh?” one dog barked. “They’re a nuisance! Always hovering, always cooing, always—”
A fat-headed dog shoved his friend aside. “You don’t owe them an explanation.” He turned to the pack. “Let’s go.”
They all stepped closer, rain dripping off their snouts, eyes blazing. Genevieve stood tall, the rain pouring down her head. Rose and the mouse trembled beneath her, but Genevieve didn’t flinch. She wasn’t scared, just mad. Mad at the meanness.
“If you get in the middle of this,” the fat-headed dog growled, “we’ll stop you. The pigeons are our enemies. Don’t make yourselves one too.”
Then, as quickly as they appeared, the pack scattered into the shadows, leaving the three travelers alone again, their hearts pounding, the air heavy with what they’d just witnessed.
The rain fell softer now, but none of them felt quite as warm as before.
Puzzle Time!
Feel free to save this image and print it out! It’s a perfect party trick to have at your next get-together. Puzzles and highlighters!
Thank you, Hailey Howe, for lovely work on Feeling! Magazine Graphics! You made this Monday Letter magical!
Exciting announcement coming this week! Talk soon! XO Jenna
Also, here are two pieces I wrote last week I think you will love:
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I love when I read your newsletters and have to keep track of all the things I'm wanting to comment as I read. :)
I think this is a hot chocolate year for sure! I feel like lots of us are ready for simpler choices in a lot of areas, and maybe that applies to the vast world of beverages as well.
I've been thinking a lot about how to make my home into a third space. We've been blessed by so many people as we've built it and I truly hope that the blessing doesn't stop when the house is complete but that we'll be able to pass it on by opening up our doors! My sister and I recently taught our sister-in-law how to can applesauce in my kitchen which was probably the first (if small) "third space" that our house has been. I also want to host a clothing (and maybe book) swap for anyone who wants to come as I've got a bunch of clothes in all sizes and styles to jumpstart the swap from a secondhand reselling business I closed. And if you've got a bit of land (a more likely occurrence if you live in the middle of nowhere vs NYC haha) bonfires are always a great way to bring neighbors together. I feel like sitting around a fire takes away the awkward of silences that typically come when you're getting to know people at events.
I'm excited to listen to those songs! I love the juxtaposition of your NYC scenes with what is in my head when I listen to the songs I know on that list--"The Story" by Brandi Carlile makes me think of being 18 and listening to my "summer dusk" songs as I walked through the fields on my parents farm with our trusty yellow lab. "See The Love" was on my falling asleep playlist so I always feel like I'm back in my bedroom shared with my sister in our quiet farmhouse when I hear that one. And "Thrive" (and many other songs on that album) immediately put raindrops on car windows, driving down back roads at night, in my mind.
(Told you I had lots to say haha oops.)
Love this!!! And there is truly nothing better than hot chocolate :’)