"If you didn't come to party, don't bother knockin' on my door"
The new rules of entertaining and a cookie to eat when the weather sucks
I think a lot about the Prince song “1999,” a definitive bop1 whose lyrics are bordering nihilism in a way you wouldn’t guess by just listening to the tune (“Yeah, everybody's got a bomb/We could all die any day/But before I'll let that happen/I'll dance my life away”) . It’s a great song, save for the fact that the titular date is about 20 years too early.
Most of us can pinpoint the last social activity we did before lockdown. I’m sure if you go back to that moment in your mind, you can remember what you would do differently that night. My memory takes me back to two moments: An amazingly elegant wedding of a dear friend, and a taco night dinner party I hosted the week after . When it comes to the former, I wish I had drank a little more, danced until a little later, maybe gone to that afterparty. When it comes to the later, I wish I had invited more people, maybe convinced more people to be a little less practical. The gym tomorrow can wait, quit your bitching and have a shot of tequila.
Since getting vaccinated, the thing I have enjoyed the most is the casual dinner party - the backyard bbq my partner and I threw when our families finally got to meet; the impromptu housewarming I attended for a friend where I tried grilled lobster rolls for the first time; choripanes on the balcony with my Miami friends and the last minute takeout we served family-style for some out-of-towners when our prior plans got rained out. I missed the joys of sharing a home, being able to linger long after the meal has graduated to the last crumbs or a few dredges of wine. Bring your dog! Bring your pandemic baby! Come in your pj's! I don’t really care. No conversation is too random or mundane. I want to know it all and I want to hear it from you, in person, while double dipping chips and salsa, not over a freaking zoom happy hour.
My agenda here is simple. Much like Prince, I’m here to make the case that we should all be “partying” more lest the world end soon. Though unlike Prince, who sang “ I got a lion in my pocket and baby, he's ready to roar,” this is directed to those of us that have more of a fluffy but neglected stray that needs to be resocialized in a controlled and intimate setting kind of situation (though this applies to whatever feline you identify with!). Last year was the closest taste we will get of the apocalypse and I for one found it way less sexy than Prince or I anticipated (fewer dark clouds and running in the street, more sitting on couch in 3 day old yoga pants scrolling influencer snark subreddits).
With all that in mind, I present to you the new rules of entertaining:
Be an Ina, not a Martha. True Ina Garten fans will know that her cookbooks have little anecdotes where the party didn’t turn out as expected, such as when she accidentally cooked the Thanksgiving turkey in oven clean mode and had to order Chinese instead. Ina herself has said she cooks only a max of two items for a party and the rest she buys prepared. Stop seeking perfection. You don’t have to make anything from scratch and your home just has to be clean enough. If something is keeping you from having people over, I officially rule it not important enough to care about.
Be safe/meet people where they’re at. Obviously we as a society are not completely in the clear yet. Ask your friends if they are vaccinated. If not, make sure you have outdoor options available. Be upfront with everyone about what your expectations are. If it feels too awkward to ask, just have the whole thing outside. And everyone has that one friend that is still in the “sponge bath produce/wear a mask in the car alone” phase. Now isn’t the time to confront or question them. If they’re uncomfortable, invite them to a park picnic some other day and don’t take personally if when they decline the invite.
It’s a party because I said so. Expand your definition of a party. These days, I consider any time someone other than my partner or I is in the house a party (made things a little awkward for plumber a few weeks ago). As far as I am concerned, anytime you’re with someone you love, it’s a celebration, and should be treated as such. Bring out the good plates, pop the champagne. We have a lot to celebrate these days.
I know, I know. Carpe Diem, YOLO, none of this is new. But the truth is, very few of us have “have Jason and Rita over for wine and cheese and a lively debate about the merits of a Love is Blind reboot” on our post-pandemic bucket lists. But maybe we should! The next pandemic might be around the corner, so let’s dinner party like it’s 2019.
Recipe: Tropical Storm Cookie AKA Quarantine Cookie
This recipe comes adapted from these buckwheat chocolate chunk cookies Bon Appetit published right before shutdown. I never actually made the original recipe because specialty ingredients were hard to come by. Instead I played around with the recipe using what I had and what I was craving. The eventual result was what we dubbed “the Quarantine Cookie,” a name I changed because it’s depressing as hell. Soft exterior with a molten dark chocolate center, this is the cookie you eat when you’re stuck inside and want to feel safe and cozy, whether because of a global pandemic or inclement weather.
Ingredients
1 stick salted butter
1/2 cup (63 g) all-purpose flour
1/2 cup (63 g) rye flour
1/2 cup (63 g) whole wheat flour
1/2 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. baking soda
3/4 tsp. salt
2/3 cup (133 g) light brown sugar
1/2 cup (100 g) granulated sugar
1 large egg + 2 large egg yolks
1 tsp. vanilla extract
6 oz. dark chocolate bars (I prefer Endangered Species brand for this and for baking generally)
Whisk together flours, baking powder, baking soda, and salt in a medium bowl. Set aside.
Heat butter in a small microwave-proof bowl for 15-20 second increments, stirring between increments until completely melted. Pour butter into a large bowl and add the sugars, whisking until it looks somewhat cohesive and no big lumps remain, (about 30 seconds) Add egg and egg yolks, one at a time, whisking until fully combined after each addition. Whisk in vanilla extract.
Add to the large bowl the dry ingredients and stir until just incorporated and almost no dry streaks remain. Cover bowl and chill for at least 40 minutes and up to 12 hours.
15 minutes before taking your dough out of the fridge, preheat your oven to 375°. Cut up the chocolate into large chunks (you will want to stuff each cookie ball with about 1/2 oz of chocolate, so cut the pieces about the size that will allow you to envelop it in cookie dough.
Scoop out generous 2ish Tbsp. portions of dough (I prefer a cookie scoop if you have one, but a normal measuring spoon will suffice) until you have about 15-18 cookies. Take a piece of the chocolate and envelop it completely with a dough ball. Repeat with the remaining dough balls. Portion the dough balls with about 7-9 cookies per parchment-lined sheet (give them lots of space to spread!). If you find your dough is getting really soft and sticky, put the sheets in the freezer for about 10 minutes.
Bake cookies, rotating halfway through, until the cookies are golden and puffy, 8–10 minutes. I personally thing these cookies are best when a little undercooked and super gooey, but if you like a crispy edge just wait a minute or two more until they darken in color. Let cookies cool on baking sheets 5 minutes (DO NOT SKIP THIS STEP OR YOU’LL END UP WITH COOKIE GOO), then transfer to a wire rack and let cool until your patience runs out.
Hit Me Baby Once More Time
If you follow me on instagram, you may have noticed in my stories that I have officially declared Thursday night Pasta Thursday (at least for the summer). I have made this leek anchovy pasta (tasty, but too rich for my taste), this Sheet pan gnocchi (lovely light summer meal, def will be roasting gnocchi in the future), this caccio e plantain (too involved to make again, but very delicious nonetheless), and this zucchini butter spaghetti (The clear winner so far, and I’m not alone in thinking so).
The biggest hit surprised me, as I don’t really love Milk Street, but the Glazed Sour Cream and Brown Sugar Bundt Cake featured in the July/Aug issue (still on stands!) is worth buying the latest issue (Sorry it’s behind a paywall). I made it without the icing and it was perfectly moist, with warm cardamom and just the tiniest hint of lemon. I can’t emphasize enough how much I loved this recipe.
In terms of misses, the same issue in Milk Street had a Puerto Rican Chicken Fricasse that was a bit of a letdown. Meanwhile, I made the “Don’t Call it Tuscan White Bean Soup” from the Food Lab and didn’t really love it, which is first for me when it comes to any recipe by Kenji Lopez-Alt. Does anyone have a good white bean soup recipe they love? My search continues…
Recommendations
I was not expecting Crying in H Mart to hit me as hard as it did, but I was teary eyed by the end of the first chapter. Michelle Zauner (of Japanese Breakfast fame) chronicles the death of her mother, in a moving and vivid memoir about cultural ties, mother-daughter dynamics, and growing up. Read this book and then call your mother.
I’m not ready to give up coffee, but this article in the Guardian is making me reconsider that stance. It explores the history of Western coffee culture and makes the case for why we should consider ditching the joe. TLDR: It messes with our sleep. As someone who has become borderline obsessive with my sleep, and as more research emerges about how poor quality sleep can contribute to cognitive issues later in life, it made me really consider developing a plan to wean myself off the stuff once and for all. For course, I would have to first apologize to my partner for all the times I bitched at him for buying decaf…
As always, thanks for reading!
Are we still using “bop”?