02. A big week for sandwiches

Wise words from my grandmothers + a recipe for cake!

I woke up early on Sunday to meet Bridget for a cycling class, and in a surprising turn of events, I did quite well. Last year in one of my loneliest seasons of senior year, I joined a cycling studio in an effort to be with other people. Unlike other workout classes, I liked cycling because didn’t have to look at other looking at me. The lights were dim, and each of us focused on the task at hand: peddle to nowhere. While in the class with Bridget, I became nostalgic for that time in my life and began contemplating my growth in the past year as my legs spun faster and faster to The Killers’ “All These Things That I’ve Done.” Afterwards, we met up with Bridget’s friend from Pitt who we’ll be moving to the city with soon, and then I went to Trader Joe’s to pick up groceries for the week. I made a big kale salad with salmon to bring to work this week. My mom made chili and cornbread for dinner, which we ate while watching the Eagles game. And for dessert I ate a box of Le Bernardin petit fours that have been sitting in my parents’ basement fridge for six months. I’m not sure if they  were safe to eat, but I’ve been thinking a lot about LB lately and the impact that working there had on my relationship to food and dining, so I felt like it was finally time to indulge. They were delicious, albeit stale — a yuzu chocolate, a pink macaron, a marshmallow cube, and a peanut butter chocolate truffle tart.

And Monday was back to work, which is starting to pick back up again after the post-holiday lull. Did my silly little tasks at my desk, posted a TikTok I edited the day before (watch here), and ate my salad at lunchtime. Really liked how the dressing came out — just eyeballed lemon juice, dijon mustard, balsamic vinegar, olive oil, salt & pepper, and honey.  At 5pm, I walked to Suburban Station and listened to the “CBS Sunday Morning” podcast since I didn’t get to watch it the day before. There was a great segment on happiness that lifted my spirits. By the time I got to the train, I started an episode of Wine Face, a podcast on (you guessed it) wine from Helen Johannesen. I could listen to Helen talk about anything for hours; she’s got a knack for storytelling. I was on my own for dinner, so I made what I usually make when that’s the case: an egg sandwich. This time I scrambled my eggs in the brown maple butter that I made for Thanksgiving last year. They turned out quite good — a grown up version of when maple syrup gets all over your savory breakfast sides. Topped it with arugula and Hank Sauce. Then I watched Jeopardy! and worked on a Reel for Instagram (watch that one here). 

On Tuesday I went to work, and I don’t remember that much from it. I was tired all day because it was the second day in a row I chose to not have coffee in the morning. At work I ate some granola that was left over from the gifts we packed for clients. Before bed, I journaled in two of the three journals I’ve chosen to keep this year. One is a dinner diary inspired by Jenny Rosenstrach, who writes

Dinner: A Love Story

(that night I had popcorn for dinner), and the other is a planner in which I answer prompts written by yours truly — just simple questions that encourage me to reflect on the day. Then I read a book borrowed from Bridget’s parents’ bookshelf: Summer Island by Kristin Hannah. 

It was cold again on Wednesday, and by the time I got to work my nose was running uncontrollably. I never know what to write about work because to me it’s just work. It was quiet in the kitchen and warehouse last week, but almost all of the mainstays are back from their winter vacations. That being said, the team who makes really good family meals is back, so I indulged in one of the greatest birria tacos I’ve ever had. There were also little spanakopita triangles and sausage Wellington hors d’oeuvres. For the past two months, I’ve been eating lunch with my friends in the back who are part of the decor team. They’re all fluent in Spanish, so most of the time I sit and quietly watch their facial expressions — from surprise to shock to horror. It’s then that someone translates for me. I haven’t picked up on any Spanish yet, but maybe I will soon. At home, I ate dinner with my parents and then did some research for my upcoming trip to Massachusetts. Matt and I are planning to see some beach points and Salem. Before Matt moved to New England last August, the only part of it I was familiar with was Connecticut. But now I know Massachusetts (through him because I’ve only visited him once so far) and will know Vermont after March. Maine is the next frontier.

I drove to work on Thursday to honor an agreement with my sister; she picked the Bug up after her train arrived from Baltimore. It was a busy day at work. There were three events going out (a record number for the year so far — a sign that slow season is slowing coming to an end, but I hope we get a few more chill weeks), and I had a meeting to discuss the company’s Instagram. I spent the rest of the day working on a content calendar, which was fun. I walked to Suburban in the rain and listened to another podcast about drinking, The Art of Drinking hosted by @JoinJules and her uncle — a super sweet concept. For dinner I made two soft boiled eggs and a piece of toast smeared with salty maple butter. Dessert was a chocolate mug cake — a recipe I turn to every time I’m in the mood to bake but don’t want to make any effort. I’ll leave it below.

And then it was Friday the 13th. Luckily, I only got away with one mishap pertaining to missing signage on an event at work. Friday was a fun workday. I got to have leftovers from a meeting for lunch; one of the chefs made a fennel and frisee salad with a panko-crusted chicken cutlet (I also had a chicken quesadilla that was put out for family meal because I couldn’t resist). One of my coworkers helped another coworker get a reservation at Zahav in the afternoon; she was so excited she nearly fell out of her chair. I told them about the time Grace’s sister and brother-in-law surprised Grace with a reservation at Zahav, and I was lucky enough to join her (we weren’t even that close back then, I was just the only other person in our group who had turned twenty-one by then). They treated us so well that night — probably one of the best dinner services in Philly. Once I was home, I watched Jeopardy! with my parents again as we noshed on leftovers. The indulgence of the night was a big bowl of popcorn, a glass of been-in-the-fridge too long wine, and The Menu. The sommelier was a hysterical character among the chaos.

On Saturday morning I had an omelet with cheese on the side. I’ve been trying to master Jacques Pépin’s French omelette so I didn’t want to disturb the process by adding cheese. I don’t have the technique down just yet, but ask me how I’m doing in two months. After breakfast, I made the focaccia from Claire Saffitz’s Dessert Person. The last time I made this bread two years ago, I figured out well into the process that I was using stale yeast. This time around the yeast was just fine, but I had to substitute whole wheat flour for bread flour which ended up throwing the entire texture off. It was still edible, nonetheless, and took over four hours to make, so we’re going to eat it throughout the week. In the afternoon I went to the mall to look for a new pair of running shoes and a new pair of jeans (I only came home with the jeans because it was packed). I stopped by Matt’s parents’ house to pick up a package that was delivered for me; Matt got me a Le Mont Saint Michel jacket for Christmas but had to exchange it for a different size. My parents were out of town this weekend so I went grocery shopping for us, but I don’t think I did that well. The only thing on my mind was focaccia and a sandwich I saw @wishbonekitchen make. She did mortadella, arugula, parm, and balsamic on focaccia, and I added a layer of soft mozzarella. Also got some hummus and pita as a snack for the drive home. Made my sandwich and washed it down with a cocktail. Matt has three signature drinks (if you’re lucky, maybe he’ll make you one someday) that he makes when people come over to his house, so I’ve decided I need one of my own. Gin is my liquor of choice, and my friend Vicky used to take me to her “spot” in New York where they’d give us gin gimlets alongside focaccia and brussels sprouts that went down like water. The drink I made was far from what I enjoyed in the past, but it got the job done: 1.5 oz gin, 2 oz simple syrup, and juice of 1 lime. I garnished with a lime slice and sugar rim. Then later in the evening I remembered another recommendation from

Dinner: A Love Story

so I whipped up a similar spritz: gin, olive juice, lemon juice, and club soda. A low ABV dirty martini spritz!

I really needed a day like Saturday with lots of time spent in the kitchen. While I was proofing the focaccia dough, my grandma called and I told her about my week and how tiring work has been. Then I told her about the bread I was making. She laughed and called me just one of the many “food people” we have in our family, and it made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. When I was little, I looked up to all the women I saw on the Food Network, and for my fifth birthday Grandma got me Rachael Ray’s cookbook for kids. I have no idea where that book is now, but I know that kindergarten me would be thrilled to know that I was still finding joy in the kitchen. It was almost a year ago that I came to terms with my unhealthy relationship to food; back then, I’d scroll through Instagram, wishing to be part of the “food people” one day. After a week of wondering if I’m on the right path, Grandma Audrey put things into perspective for me. I guess I’ll end this with a quote that used to hang on my Grandmom MaryAnn’s fridge: “When I let go of what I think I am, I become what I might be.” ❤️

Chocolate Mug Cake 

My favorite emergency sweet 

Ingredients

• 5 tablespoons all purpose flour

• 2 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa powder

• ½ teaspoon baking powder

• 2 tablespoons sugar (I usually use raw or coconut, but any will do)

• Pinch of salt

• 5 tablespoons milk (I usually use almond or oat because that’s what I have)

• 1½ tablespoon maple syrup

• 1½ tablespoon oil (truthfully, you should use something neutral but I always use olive oil because it’s closer than going back to the pantry)

• 1 tablespoon chocolate chips (non-negotiable) 

Method

1. In a mug or any tall microwaveable vessel, combine dry ingredients — make sure they’re well mixed.

2. Add the wet to the dry. Mix well to combine. Clumps are okay.

3. Mix in chocolate chips. 

4. At this point you could also add sprinkles — there’s something about waxy, sweet melted sprinkles…

5. Microwave for 45 seconds to 1½ minutes. It might be foggy in the middle, but there are no eggs in the recipes so you have my permission to eat raw cake batter to your heart’s content.