The Binge, Revisited

 “Netflix gives you 15 seconds between episodes to decide whether or not you’re doing anything with your life today”

--- Internet Meme

Image by Rob Dobi via https://bit.ly/2PT63qy

 

A little over five years ago, I was stuck at home, unable to go out because of a health issue. No, there wasn’t a pandemic, everyone else was out and about, eating in restaurants, shopping in stores, and going barefaced. My issue was a new hip, and honestly, at least back then I had an excuse to lie around and be unproductive. Now? We’ve reached the Pinterest portion of the pandemic, and everyone is all over social media By everyone, I mean, not me. Sorry, but artisanal bread, kale chips, and gourmet chick pea salad is not how I roll, even if I am trapped in the house.

 

Initially, I bought a few sacks of flour, collected enough butter and eggs to choke a horse, and stockpiled a collection of Tasty and Buzzfeed food videos of deliciously decadent treats. Haven’t made any of them yet. The reason? I've fallen down the rabbit hole of online streaming. Between Hulu, Netflix, YouTube, and Amazon Prime, there are several thousand movies and shows to choose from, and honestly, binge-watching has become my video Valium of sorts. If I can’t sleep, Mary Tyler Moore, James Bond, Bob Newhart, and classic film noir movies are always there for me.

 

Five years ago, I wrote about the beauty of the binge, and how when there is downtime, it helps to have a distraction. In 2015, I wrote:

“What’s the answer? A good binge, that’s what. Now before you think anything untoward, I am not talking about vodka or chocolate cake. The new “Lost Weekend” is known as “binge-watching” and it’s perfect for those times when you don’t want to deal with the crapfest that passes for entertainment on some networks. There are a lot of ways to binge-watch too, depending on what you have available.”

That is still mostly true, except now, the crapfest is, sadly, the national news. It seems that everything is blowing up, from COVID numbers to fireworks factories, and Twitter rants, and that gets old after a while. Back then, however, if I couldn’t find something good online, there was Chet’s Video, with their delicious popcorn and candy. They even delivered movies for me while I healed. I miss that place.

The bonus now though? With online streaming, the viewer is the boss. It might be just a coincidence, but the TV “clickah” is actually called the “remote control.” How perfect is that? We’re all stuck learning remotely, working remotely, and doing so much else in an isolated way, and now we get to push some buttons and rule the world. Well, at least the screen anyway. I can wield a remote like a pro, zipping through channels at a seizure-inducing pace. I can’t make the pandemic go away. I am powerless to open the schools, I can’t sit on my favorite barstool at the Barnacle, munching on clams and sipping the perfect Bloody Mary. No hugging my friends, or traveling, or going to a ballgame. So much of what was normal in the “Before Times” just can’t happen now. So, this is one part of life that is entirely up to me, and you bet your sweet bippy, I’m going for it.

Back then, it was frustrating to be physically limited. No bike rides, no badminton matches, I couldn’t even walk Penny the Pug. Now the limits are different, and while I'm grateful to be healthy, it's still frustrating. We are moving into a new phase though, and just maybe in a few months, some of what we are missing will come back. In the meantime, I will be turning away from the 24-hour news cycle of death and destruction, and going for the beauty of the binge. 

 

 

 

 

Live From a Kitchen Near You

“Cooking is the art of adjustment.”

---Jacques Pepin

Adjustment? No, I’m sorry, I am horribly maladjusted (or so I am told), so perhaps this has been the problem in the kitchen for me. It’s not that I don’t try hard. I do try. What I lack in skill I make up for in effort and the ability to put out a fire. There are kids to be fed in my family; takeout and cereal are not proper meals, at least not every day. Recently though, I challenged myself. A good friend is an excellent cook, foodie, blogger, and social media maven. Jessica Alves has it going on in the kitchen, from simple to elegant and everything in between.

She recently started hosting Facebook live videos from her kitchen with fun recipes that can feed a crowd or just a couple of preschoolers. Honestly, a couple of preschoolers is a crowd, and they can turn on you fast. She asked if I would be a guest on one of the videos. Her current project is about waffles. Not those frozen Frisbees, but genuine, homemade waffles. She can do anything with them; it’s quite something. The problem, for me anyway, was that I would be entering into a Holy Trinity of danger if I agreed. There would be open flames, sharp knives and a video camera aimed at me. I don’t do well with any of those. Not to brag, but I don’t even have to touch a pan or a utensil to have a near-death experience in a kitchen. I suffered a concussion just from mopping the floor in my kitchen. A track light exploded over my head once, because that is the kind of luck I have, and I nearly lost an eye. I accidentally killed a goldfish in my garbage disposal; it’s a long story, but the gist of it is, don’t clean a fish tank in the kitchen sink. The floor at my badminton club is still sticky from the Great Caramel Sauce Incident of 2012. But hey, I have red shoes, what could go wrong?

Still, I was intrigued, so, like many of the adventures people ask me to go on, my answer is eventually, “Ok, why the hell not?” We agreed on a date, and that was that. Until it was fast approaching on my calendar and then began the wailing and gnashing of teeth. What was I going to wear? Did they make aprons that would cover up the evidence of a well-fed summer of fried clams and soft-serve? I don’t own anything flame retardant or camera ready. What about my hair? I tie it back when I cook because burnt hair stinks up the kitchen, but it’s not a good look for a close-up. Thanks to another good friend, I found an apron, and she monogrammed it for me, in case there was some disfiguring accident, the EMTs would know it was me by my initials. Jessica had the food all handled; my job was just to show up and help. I even wore lipstick, because I could hear my mother’s voice in my head, “Would a little lipstick kill you? You’re gonna have your picture taken!”

I showed up at the right time and on the right day, an accomplishment in itself. It was go time! Jessica’s kitchen is organized and looks like a magazine layout of some celebrity’s home. She got the camera rolling and there we were. Making angel food cake waffles, with maple sauce and roasted fruit. You can roast fruit, who knew? Ok, everyone but me.  My first job was to slice up the cake. Check that off the list; no blood was spilled. So far, so good. Then, for the sauce, I had to boil maple syrup and sugar. In a pan, over a gas flame. Another home run! I stirred, it foamed, it caramelized, it was a thing of beauty. No burns, no spills. Melted butter had to be brushed on the cake slices and the waffle iron. Pro tip: Waffle irons are hot and melted butter is slippery. Still, no incidents! I was cooking with gas, literally! Dusting waffles with a dredge (great word!) of cinnamon and a mere splash of butter. Plating fruit. But wait, there’s more! Whipped coconut cream. If you keep a can of it in the fridge, you can beat it into a smooth topping that tastes amazing. The mixer was humming, the waffles were sizzling, and I didn’t burn the fruit. Truth be told, that’s because Jessica did that part, but, moving on, what about the video you ask?

Well. It turns out that I am not good at knowing where to put my arms, they just flap around. On film, it appears as if I have restless elbow syndrome, but I’m working on that. We won’t discuss the fact that the camera adds 80 pounds. People say it’s ten, but that is a vicious lie. Couldn't I just hide?

 Also, in a Facebook video people watching can comment during the broadcast. Except I couldn’t see the comments since I was busy licking the coconut cream mixing bowl. I’m a class act for sure. Finally, whenever I have to speak around or to people I don’t know, I make a concerted effort not to sound like my Aunt MAHHHHGAHRET from DAW-CHESTAH. Except for this time. Holy Masshole Batman, it was wicked pissah. I did avoid dropping any F-bombs though, and if you know me, you know that’s a win.

All in all, it was seriously fun and surprisingly safe considering a kitchen is pretty much the Bermuda Triangle for me. Check out Jessica’s website at https://atasteforliving.com/blog/ for awesome recipes and videos. I will be back, stay tuned. Jessica's blog can be found here

https://atasteforliving.com/blog/ and the video is hosted here