At one point, I’d hoped to avoid focusing on the pandemic and the political protests that consume our lives, but I realize that these are the topics that have been on everyone’s minds. As of course they should be.
Here in Tucson another event is on our minds: There’s a large and still growing lightning-caused fire in the Catalina mountains north of town, causing evacuations and ever more anxiety. We’re safe, far to the west of the fire.
I’ve been sheltering at home with my husband and our dog since late March. They are good companions, although one of them sheds too much. Back then I was naïve enough to think we would be returning to “normal,” even if it took several months. Now I have come to believe that things will never be the same.
Our Ever-Changing Normal
Some new things are kinda fun, like the rocks and chalk messages neighbors leave.
However, things that were changing already, like mall anchor stores struggling, were brought to crisis stage by COVID-19.
Browsing through stores, fondling items that attract our attention, will no longer be politically correct—or wise. Shopping these days is either online, with curbside pickup or a fast, targeted expedition for necessary purchases. And it may not change that much. Retailers will adapt and if history tells us anything, some will come up with sparklingly creative and innovative ideas and become huge successes.
And yet some things will remain constant, like telemarketers who call promptly when you sit down for a meal, like those “survey” requests online and in the mail that are thinly veiled requests for donations. Don’t those just irk you?
Am I Anxious or are Some Things Just Annoying?
That got me thinking about what’s been irking me since we’ve been in lockdown. I try to be in touch with my feelings and emotions, but I all too often mistake my “righteous indignation,” for “uh, oh, Kathy’s anxiety level is up.” What I normally—pre-pandemic—could ignore or shrug off can lead to a fit of pique or a cookbook tossed across the room. (Yes, I love cookbooks and enjoy cooking. Fortunately so does my husband. Thus I rarely mistreat cookbooks. But once in a while I have a yen to startle our poor old, nearly deaf dog with a falling book. I almost never succumb!)
So, what gets my goat? Makes me yearn for a yoga goat? I won’t attempt to prioritize. And I’m hoping you’ll add to my list.
I will NOT get into bad grammar today, because that would be a whole ‘nother email.
I am chafed and annoyed by itchy clothing labels. Some designers are turning to on-fabric printing or labels that you can easily pull off. Bless those companies. The kind of labels I hate are those that scratch your neck and are so difficult to remove, even with a seam ripper or a razor blade, that you tear the fabric. Arrrgh.
Speaking of labels, how annoying are those sticky labels they put on fruit that only come off with part of the skin? (The fruit’s, not mine, in most cases.) Someone told me those on organic fruit are supposed to be edible, but I don’t see how a piece of sticky green paper enhances the eating experience.
Other Lockdown Bumps & Bothers
Back to tossing cookbooks: I find recipes online and in books and I’ve been flummoxed by many of them. The worst offenders are the recipes that leave off ingredients. And not just salt and pepper, which they may or may not mention later on in the recipe.
I’m talking essential ingredients not included in that list at the top of the recipe. The kind you need to shop for. And these days, you don’t just dash off to the grocery store or pop over to a neighbor’s to get those green onions they forgot to list. And speaking of salt and pepper, how about those recipes that suggest you add salt and pepper “to taste,” at a step when all the ingredients are still raw and not ready to be tasted?
On the subject of ingredients, don’t you love it when the recipe calls for an ingredient you’ve never heard of, or one found only in specialty shops? Za’atar? Orange blossom water? Harissa? Go ahead and feel smug if you’ve got some in your cupboard.
Then there are the recipes that don’t give you any estimate of the time it will take, or those that estimate the prep time as if I can chop vegetables and debone a chicken as fast as Julia Child. Another peeve are recipes that leave off a step or two, or tell you to do one thing or another that no one but a Culinary Institute graduate would know how to do, without a hint as to how to do it. Cook sous vide? Make a roux, make a beurre blanc?
Follow These Simple Instructions . . .
How about the recipe that told me to halve the onion lengthwise and slice it thin crosswise? An onion is round! How do I know which is lengthwise? Almost as bad are those recipes that tell me to cut the chicken breast across the grain. I can never figure out the direction my chicken grain is headed.
Despite my annoyance, I keep on cooking, keep on trying new recipes. Most of them turn out well, and they prevent our facing the same old entrée too often. When I find yummy ones, I add them to the Recipes and Resources area of my website, so do take a look when you’re hungry. I like Madrone’s Calabacitas, a dish served by a character in Murder, Sonoran Style.
Perhaps my annoyance with the relatively small issues I’ve mentioned is at higher levels during sheltering to forestall my very real concerns and fears about the world today. I think transferring my BIG concerns to some minor ones helps me stay sane, especially if I don’t break too many spines in my little snits (of cookbooks).
I recently read a YA novel, We Were Liars, by E. Lockhart. I didn’t love the story, even though it was well-written, with strong characters. Read the reviews and you’ll see why. Some people loved the surprise ending, but I’ve never been a fan of them. At any rate, one quote from the novel stuck with me: “She confused wit with intelligence, and made people laugh rather than lightening their hearts or making them think.”
I’d like to hope that my words let you laugh, lighten your hearts and on occasion make you think.
What are your peeves? Have they become more annoying during the pandemic? How are you dealing with the natural anxiety of our times?
