Today marks a new chapter for The Times’s prominent newsletter, The Morning, as Sam Sifton takes the helm. With over five million daily readers, Sam will now serve as a trusted guide through the intricate landscape of global events, offering companionship amidst challenging stories, sharp critiques, heartfelt profiles, captivating audio, and all the diverse wonders this news organization creates.
In the process of working with Sam this past fall, it became clear he is a wonderfully unique individual. You absolutely should get to know him! Since joining The Times in 2002, he’s held seven remarkably varied positions, including:
- He served as the esteemed restaurant critic from 2009 to 2011. (Just imagine the workout regimen needed to maintain fitness amidst all those meals!)
- He led one of our largest news desks as National editor, steering coverage through major events like the Boston Marathon bombing.
- He was the driving force behind the creation of NYT Cooking, a resource many of us now depend on. It’s the first place I turn in a culinary panic, wondering: What can I do with these parsnips from the market? (The answer often involves Sam’s brilliant take on seafood chowder.)
- For the past five years, he’s overseen all our culture and lifestyle coverage, so his recommendations in these areas are certainly worth noting.
I recently had the pleasure of sitting down with him for a frank Q&A.
Adam: So, you’re hosting a morning newsletter. Are you naturally a morning person?
Sam: I absolutely am. The hours between 5 and 9 AM are bursting with creative energy, and I genuinely love to witness the dawn. That said, I also anticipate many late nights with this role. It’ll be a mix of late nights and early mornings. I even quit coffee during the pandemic. We’ll see how long that lasts!
I’m also caffeine-free. What’s your go-to breakfast?
Breakfasts are usually rituals. You stick to one until a new whim or circumstance leads you to another: granola and yogurt; classic French toast; a single fried egg with toast and marmalade; or simply a bowl of cut fruit. Lately, I’ve been quite fond of a toasted bagel generously spread with butter, topped with a single slice each of deli ham and Swiss cheese.
Last year, the Berkeley Divinity School at Yale honored you with an honorary doctorate, describing your previous newsletter, ‘What to Cook,’ as a ‘secular sermon.’ What was your intention with that, and how does that philosophy translate to your new role with The Morning?
My core message was always simple: Everything’s going to be all right. Even if things feel terrible right now, even if you’ve never attempted making mayonnaise, even if you’re filled with fear. We’ll navigate it together. We’ll uncover the truth. We’ll create something nourishing, no matter what challenges the world presents. Above all, I wanted to instill a single thought in readers: You are not alone. And that same sentiment is at the heart of my ambition for The Morning.
Your cooking newsletter frequently featured references to your life on the water. Tell us a bit more about that.
I’ve been sailing and messing about in boats since I was a child, spending summers at my grandparents’ home in Maine. I’ve worked on grand schooners and bustling cruise boats in New York Harbor, captained light-tackle fishing boats around the city and Long Island, and sailed extensively along the East Coast. There’s an unparalleled sense of liberation out on the water, especially when you lose cell service. It’s a unique form of freedom, and the sights you witness are truly incredible.
Another recurring theme was your relaxed approach to cooking. Your cookbook is even titled ‘No-Recipe Recipes.’ What advice do you have for aspiring improvisational chefs who want to move beyond strict instructions? For me, it was all about practice.
Sometimes, I genuinely enjoy following a recipe closely – it’s like learning a new piece of music. Other times, I just want to improvise and ‘jam.’ You’re absolutely right that consistent practice makes improvisation much easier. It builds confidence in your skills and your palate. Prepare any recipe three or four times, and it stops being merely the author’s creation; it becomes uniquely yours.
How did you originally get into journalism?
I started writing for my high school newspaper, and something just clicked. The idea that you could ask questions, document the answers, and then deliver that information to people – who were either thrilled to know or completely furious because they didn’t want anyone to know – was fascinating. I thought, If I can get this right, I’ll never have to get a ‘real job’.
You come across as avuncular, even jovial. Are you an eternal optimist?
I’m not sure my family would entirely agree with that assessment! I’ll paraphrase Machiavelli: There is nothing more important than successfully *appearing* to be an optimist.
You’re a keen student of New York Times history. Can you share a fun anecdote from the old days?
One of my earliest tasks at The Times involved editing the travel and food pieces by a political reporter named R.W. Apple Jr., whom everyone affectionately called Johnny. Johnny was truly larger than life, both in his interests and his appetites. A famous rumor was that his expenses were so extravagant they had their own dedicated cost center, entirely separate from any department in the newsroom. I certainly never got to see them myself.
Back then, cellphones weren’t common, and Johnny was constantly on the move, chasing political stories and indulging in lavish meals. I once found myself up against a deadline for a story he wrote about a trip to Vancouver (“Conspire to arrive by ship,” he penned). I needed to cut 10 lines for it to fit the page, but he insisted on being consulted for any edits. And he was nowhere to be found. What was I to do?
I tracked down a politics editor who told me Johnny was in Ohio, speaking with voters. That wasn’t much to go on. After a moment’s thought, I grabbed a travel guide and compiled a list of every four-star hotel in the state.
I found Johnny on the second call. He burst out laughing, and we were only five minutes late for deadline.
Your home sounds like a bit of an animal sanctuary.
Indeed! Two large dogs, and one small, incredibly bossy cat. It can feel quite like a small farm.
Okay, lightning round. Favorite book about boats.
“Spartina,” by John Casey, published in 1989. What a beautifully crafted novel. If I had the chance to spend a season working for Dick Pierce, the ‘swamp Yankee’ protagonist of that superb account of a complex life in South County, Rhode Island, I’d take it. He’d undoubtedly make me just as miserable on the water as on shore, but his world fascinates me so much that it would be entirely worth the discomfort. And those sentences!
Favorite song about food.
Nas, “Fried Chicken”? Kacey Musgraves, “Biscuits”? UB40, “Red Red Wine”? There are simply too many great options!
Favorite movie about New York.
Spike Lee’s “Do the Right Thing.” (With honorable mentions to “Metropolitan” and the original “The Taking of Pelham One Two Three.”)
Favorite neighborhood you’ve lived in.
Red Hook, Brooklyn. I’ve called it home for nearly 20 years.
Favorite dish in Brooklyn.
There’s an embarrassment of riches here, making it impossible to pick just one. Some days I crave a banh mi from Ba Xuyen in Sunset Park, or a calzone from Lucali in Carroll Gardens. Other days, it’s dry pot chicken from Authentic Szechuan in Park Slope. Or maybe doubles from A&A in Bed-Stuy? Or the she-crab soup at Gage & Tollner in Downtown Brooklyn? I truly enjoy all of it.
Favorite thing to find at the farmers’ market.
Pea shoots, in a very close tie with fairy-tale eggplants.
Favorite thing to cook.
Currently? Clay pot rice, prepared right in the rice cooker. That makes for a perfect dinner.
What aspect of this new role is most daunting for you?
You mean, the prospect of crafting a daily letter about the news for millions upon millions of people? Hoping it will be the very first thing they read each morning while still in bed? Hoping it will inform them, delight them, and help them grasp the complexities of the world? What exactly would be frightening about *that*? See you in The Morning!
Adam B. Kushner edits The Morning newsletter.