Oct 20

As in: I am obsessed with it these days. Aren’t you?

Some of you may want to stop reading after I tell you that no, I haven’t actually gained weight during Food in the Time Of Corona. I get it. Good bye and good luck. But for those of you who stick around, let me tell you that I am constantly aware of what to eat, when to eat it, how to get it, how to prepare it, and how to clean it all up.

Since I am still wary of going into supermarkets, I order my groceries from Fresh Direct, which is actually quite good. But using them is different from trudging off to the supermarket whenever you feel like it: I have to decide in advance when I want the delivery. I have lots of stuff to do and can’t always be available to put away the ice cream (a girl’s gotta live a little). So I make a preliminary list, just enough to meet the minimum requirement to chose a time. They let you make last minute additions up until the night before delivery, so I put my order in for the basics right away.

Then I pick a two-hour window that works. Can’t do it too early: I might not be awake. Too late and anything I order for dinner will not be here in time. I have that Zoom class at 1, so the 1-3 window won’t work, and that online doctor consultation at 4, so 3-5 is out too.


When the time’s settled, I think about what else I have to order. And make changes. And more changes. And as many changes as I can until the deadline. And I still forget something.

I also sometimes forget to finalize my order: I don’t click on that Place Your Order link, and wonder why I’m not getting an email confirming my delivery. I also forget to hit Place in Cart for certain items. Didn’t I order tomatoes? Well, I meant to, but didn’t hit that button, I guess. Fresh Direct, like Chase and American Express, are just about 100% right about these things. My batting average is far lower.

When the food gets delivered, there’s a huge decision to be made:


FIRST they told us to leave the non-perishable stuff outside (Hey! I live in an apartment!) then carefully wipe the perishable things and put them away. Then go back to the other stuff later (how much “later” ranged from a few hours to a few days): things like toilet paper if you can get it, coffee and canned tomatoes, and wipe that stuff too. The problem is that there is no place in my part of the world where I can get wipes. My brother, who lives in Virginia, has been sending them to me, but I’m not using them quite as much lately, because NOW we are being told that touching surfaces is not a likely source of the infection, but that it’s primarily respiratory, person to person interaction, especially in closed spaces. Sigh.


(We will always need him.)

Maybe he’s out dining at one of the outdoor restaurants that have opened up lately. I, for one, am surprised and stunned at the ingenuity of many restaurant owners in creating these outdoor spaces, some with colorful barriers and umbrellas. It’s almost like Paris. Well, almost.

Meanwhile, home cooking is still the main way we get food into our tummies, and who knew how tedious this is—when you have to do it so damned often! New York City is a place where “going out for dinner” is a mainstay of socializing. I didn’t ever think about it, but I used to have 3 or 4 lunch/brunch/dinner dates a week, so that even though I cook, and am decent at it, I didn’t cook 3 meals a day, 7 days a week.

Okay, so breakfast may be a just cup of coffee and piece of toast, and lunch a grilled cheese sandwich and some apple juice, but even that creates cups, glasses, dishes, and a pan. And don’t even talk to me about dinner. My dishwasher has never seen so much action! I’m afraid it’s getting overly dependent on all this attention and may need some serious therapy.


This is a small thing to moan and groan about in a time of a global pandemic. And I know that some of you have much worse situations. And of course, this pandemic is not the worst thing that has ever happened.

I am well aware that there is hunger in our society, and that I am privileged to be able to have a dishwasher, much less enough food. I urge you all to donate your time or money to food banks like City Harvest, especially during this pandemic.

Meanwhile, I am a humor blogger, AKA a professional complainer. Would you rather I tell you about how much I miss my friends and family, how I can hardly breathe wearing the damn masks, how I wonder how the hell our so-called leaders made a bad situation even worse by their handling of this crisis, and how scary the mood in our beloved country is right now?

I thought not. You can go elsewhere for that.

Meanwhile, excuse me for a few minutes. I really need to  have a heart-to-heart talk with the dishwasher.

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