What do you eat when you’re insides are churning with confusion and disbelief? Wanting to shove comfort down into my mouth agape with disbelief, I quickly run down my long dead mother’s repertoire of comforting foods. A way to keep my ancestors alive in the midst of the death that is coming at me from so far away.
Stuffing. Let’s make stuffing. Because an enormous stainless steel bowl that doesn’t fit in my dishwasher is what I need right now. Into that bowl: carbohydrates. A double dose of carbs in the form of Kellogs Corn Flakes and saltines. Crunch it with my hands that I’ve forgotten to wash before beginning. Germs cook off. It’s fine. Germs are the least of my issues right now. Crack jumbo eggs hoping for a double yolk for good luck. Really? Thoughts of Good Luck? Now? Chicken stock. Fry onions and mushrooms. Cook the hell out of them until they are unrecognizable. My kitchen begins to smell like the truck stop grill two miles away that I love.
Parsley. Chopped fine. Throw the rest into the guinea pig cage. (How long do guinea pigs live? I don’t even know. But they eat more greens than me)
Add oil and mix with a big spoon that feels good to wield right now. Like a weapon. Bake until the top is burnt to my liking.
Take a fork and a big glass of water – because I’m not a total heathen – and eat in front of the tv news while getting forkfulls of comfort from my babushka’d ancestors.
