damn what if i literally turned this into a food blog for a bit. sponsored links for passive income.
i heard recently (on red scare, if you must know) that people get sorted into two groups: people who eat when they're stressed and people who don't eat when they're stressed. one group gets punished, societally, for their inclination. societally and cardiovascularly. i belong to the second group. if i don't have anything tasty in the fridge i will skip meals all day without even noticing - stand up from my desk, nibble three figs or half a tomato, and then sit right back down. you can call it disordered but it's really not like that.
basil pesto
4 cups fresh basil leaves
1/2 cup olive oil
1/2 cup pine nuts
2 garlic cloves
1/4 cup pecorino-romano, grated or whatever
1 teaspoon coarse kosher salt
my mom gave me a huge plastic bag full of basil from her garden. this was like 5 days ago. since then, the basil has sat in my fridge getting less and less pesto-worthy, developing a farty, decomposition smell. i bought pine nuts even though i already had walnuts, which i knew would work perfectly well.
blend until the skipping stops, until it's a smooth gurgle of oil and romano and leaf. i live alone and i cook these recipes with red eyes. i pour myself a g&t but the t is flat and i have no lime. wash out the blender and then make the hummus.
the secret to a fucked hummus is to blend the tahini heavy before adding anything else. whip the work, as they say. the next secret? that they won't tell you on the other food blogs? the hummus is better if you're texting with a chubby 22 year old from tinder while you make it.
1 can chickpeas
1/4 cup fresh lemon juice
1/4 cup well-stirred tahini
1 small garlic clove, minced
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
dat chickpea water
ground cumin & salt to taste
i asked her if she was into acroyoga and tried to imagine her in my house. it's almost impossible to scrape all the hummus from out the blender so i don't even really try. this is a theme of these cooking nights: i barely taste, i barely read the recipes - the point isn't to make good food it's to feel better than everyone else because i've done it. i say some dom-y things in the chat but she responds too innocently and just like that i've lost all interest.
last recipe i swear
overnight oats
1/2 cup oats
1/2 cup soymilk, plus another splash for wetness
1/4 cup greek yogurt (i use Oikos Pro because the macros are twisted)
Spoonful of chia
Squirt of agave nectar
i make this recipe in batches of 5 and keep them in the fridge for a week.
2 comments:
I'm eating beans and rice. I put them in the rice cooker together so that it just is done when I get home from a walk. I opened up a little tin of sardines and put it on the rice and beans and put good mayo on it. This was how I ate a lot last year. Just throw like 3 to 4 things together and it doesn't really matter if they taste good or whatever. The effort was just so low and it's not entirely unhealthy but you would never tell someone (like a woman you wanted to date) that you eat that way. In her head you're eating lush meals, cooking and simmering and reducing and she can imagine you with a wooden spoon tasting a bit of the stew over the expensive dutch oven. But, really, it's exhausting to cook and do the dishes and do anything like that at all consistently. Maybe in fits and spurts. I cooked something in the wok every day for the last two weeks or whatever. I'm actually getting kinda decent at it, but like how many cloves of garlic and ginger and scallions can I really chop up small and blast in oil. I go to the Korean grocery on my bike or I drive over if I'm lazy and I expand my pantry of sauces and foreign cooking wines and spend $50 when I went for about 8 dollars of produce. There's a young, we have to assume pretty, girl that works there. She wears the mask and it's pretty easy to get into her line at the market. Last time a devastating blow, I'm in her lane and as I start unloading the handcart (a measure used to avoid over spending even more) she said, oh lane 3 is open behind you. It was and I had an older man ring me up. I walked into the parking lot, and then turned back and went to the separate portable building and bought a cheap metal little fry basket for pulling battered tofu or chicken out of the hot oil. I went home and made probably the best tofu dish of my young lifetime. I felt ok then. I feel ok now too.
"probably the best tofu dish of my young lifetime"
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