Foodcentric. Is that really a word? Whether it is or isn’t, we are all thinking more about food, and most likely eating more as well. Avid chefs and bakers have been with us forever. They share recipes, post their food porn on Facebook, and are talking about food all the time.
Along comes a pandemic forcing everyone to shelter in place and the next thing I know, everyone is making hand-made pasta, inventing new muffins or perfecting their naan bread. It’s like the food fairy came down and sprinkled magic cooking dust over the entire world. Now everyone you know is talking about what they are cooking and baking.
When restaurants were forced to shut down, it left millions of people jonesing for the sociability and entertainment that was central to going out to eat. If you could no longer meet friends for dinner out, the next best option was to cook at home for loved ones. Early on in the shutdown, you would go to a grocery store and realize that eggs and flour were sold out…shelves were emptied. The baking and cooking had begun and pity the cooks who did not get their supplies in time.
The supply chain recovered and we’re all taking advantage of carry-out food, as a break from our own cooking, but also to try and support hard-hit restaurants that are doing everything they can to hang on. Stuck at home for much of the time, we’re turning to dead tree cookbooks and recipe websites to come up with new ideas for mealtime, and we’re not looking for fruity pancakes or tuna casseroles. No ma’am. We’re going for the hard stuff. Exotic Indian food, empanadas, lobster ravioli, shaksuka, and lemon merengue pie. Seven days a week, 3 meals a day. It’s a lot of pressure. Try not repeating the same meal for a month or more.
I’m not sure where all this is going to end, but it’s safe to say that meals in your house have either gotten a lot more interesting or there’s a huge pile of used take-out containers to go to recycling.
Jay Harrison is a graphic designer and writer whose work can be seen at DesignConcept. His mystery novel, Head Above Water, is available on Amazon and Kindle. You can also visit his author page here.
I’m an old man, okay? I’m finally starting to realize that. Slowly. One loss at a time. For instance, I used to run to and around a neighborhood park before breakfast three times a week. Now I walk there and sit on a bench before heading back. That kind of thing. That, and then there’s a young woman who walks by, briskly, probably on her way to work. I say young. Well not that young, maybe in her thirties. Late thirties. But to a guy in his late seventies, that’s young.
My goal at this stage of life is to move closer to my true self. To shake off the shackles of past regrets and sorrows; to challenge what the world expects of me as a woman in her 60’s; to let go of concern about what people might think of my antics. I am free now, after all. I can try different jobs, since my value as a person is no longer defined by what I do or how much I earn. Maybe I’ll work on a lavender farm, or in a bookstore, or in a shop that sells crystals and beads. Maybe I’ll learn something new and start a small business. Maybe I’ll dress in wild outfits, let my hair grow out, keep my own hours.
They’re not trying to kill us. It’s not their intention but it may be the result. Many millennials and Gen Z’ers have the attitude that they are invulnerable to Covid-19, so it’s time to party on. It does not occur to them that they could be bringing the infection to their boomer grandmother the next time they drop in for a family dinner.
As a child, I wanted my family to be more interesting. To have foods and traditions that defined us as something other than yet another 1960’s suburban family with four kids, two parents, and a station wagon with wood-grained trim. I wanted to at least be like the neighbors, who were Italian. Their pot of spaghetti sauce made from an ancestral recipe simmered on the stove all day, with aromas of garlic, onions, meat, and herbs reaching my nose through their open windows.
Are you bored yet? I’m not, but it’s worse.
