This past week the Shower Principle actually worked for me. This is not a first, but it most certainly is an infrequent occurrence. Very rarely am I struck with genius while I suds up, but on a recent afternoon (because that’s usually when I get around to showering now) I had the epiphany to cook my way through Alison Roman’s (very timely) Dining In cookbook, using the recipes and her cooking concept (#stayinginforthewin) to pepper (a little cooking pun) and punctuate the days my partner Max and I are spending at home due to the global pandemic. I’ll write about the experience - the food and the day - for my own sanity, as well as anyone interested (my mother, party of one).
Of course, once the exhilaration of having a new project and reason to dust off my two-bit blogger skills passed, I realized I was completely hawking the idea from one Mrs. Julie Powell, of Julie & Julia fame. Do novel ideas really even exist anymore though? Come on. She isn’t the only one to find solace and maybe even herself in cooking. I, myself have already dabbled in this arena.
Having lost my job 8 months prior to the pandemic, I’m no stranger to cooking as my primary day filler. For the first half of my unemployment I helped out as a recipe tester for my soon(ish)-to-be mother-in-law who was working on her new book (yes, she’s a much-beloved Canadian icon), which was to include recipes. The practice of planning the dishes out, the walks to the shop to collect the week’s ingredients and the enjoyment I found each time I took to the kitchen served as the perfect distraction, self-care regimen, and purpose I so desperately craved.
I’ve been putting off buying Dining In and the newer Nothing Fancy for months. Not out of pointless boycott, but because I was having a hard time justifying the spending in light of my lack of income. But at first sign of lock down, I began a NYT Cooking trial and started trying out my first Alison Roman recipes. Tomato-y, Shallot-y pasta was first, then Spicy White Bean Stew, followed by the stew, and most recently a skillet chicken with caramelized lemons that looked crazy when I made it, but tasted fecking awesome.
Her recipes and thinking about food could not be more what we need right now. Unfussy, fun, and delicious dishes that not only make our meals feel special, but like we’re taking care of ourselves. It goes beyond nutritional nourishment these days, and really serves as a practice in mindfulness. I’m clearly not the only one doing this. Everyday I watch endless streams of at-home shots of lemony turmeric tea cakes, jammy onions, and sexy anchovies on Instagram. While Alison may be one saviour, the entire culture surrounding food and drinking is saving many of us right now. Raise your hand if Claire, Brad, and Delany are acting as your primary caregivers right now, soothing your mind as you watch hours of their shenanigans in the BA test kitchen.
My plan is not to cook every recipe in the book over the next 90 days or whatever. Some nights I’ll try other (non-Roman) recipes out or Max will cook or we’ll order in. It’s just a plan to cook nice things while committing to staying in, as well as writing more. I’m anticipating this may not go as smoothly as Julie’s experiment (as I type, sweet Max is in an hour long line up to enter the grocery store). Nor do I have false hope or intentions of this becoming a beloved film starring the incomparable Meryl Streep (and let us not forget, Chris Messina) or anything beyond what it is - a 30-something lady cooking and eating recipes while oversharing her experience online while stuck in.
Stay tuned for an Easter dinner featuring sides from Dining In, updates on my puzzle, and tales from any brave solo walks I may dare to take.