On Sundays, my only ritual is patience. Freed from the relentless pressures of weeknight cooking — when fast and furious dictate my menu — on Sundays I opt for things that will take time, or that can be cooked in stages. I look for recipes that are languid, that require my attention but only just enough, so I can still watch a movie on my laptop or listen to my favorite podcast while I’m cooking. This is a respite from the way I normally cook, which is either fast (for family meals) or meticulous (recipe testing). On Sundays, I turn to things I already know — it could be the meditation of folding dumplings or wontons, the comfort of rolling pici pasta alongside my daughter, or pulling noodles by hand.