The Cat Comes Running When I Chop a Shallot
Breaking up the pandemic routine of the Wednesday tuna melt with showstopper desserts
So we’re all feeling pretty crazy by now, yeah? The summer was a tease — lower Covid case counts, outdoor gatherings six feet from friends and family, the warmth of the sun on your skin.
But now? We’re in the shit, friends. It’s winter. We are once again trapped in our homes (if we’re being smart!) and clinging to whatever shreds of sanity remain. I, for one, am throwing the whole goddamn book at my mental health: I am taking my Lexapro and FaceTiming my therapist and cooking nourishing meals and doing yoga and trudging down to the exercise bunker (i.e., an unfinished Pittsburgh basement with a treadmill) to jog for 30 minutes. Am I also drinking and consuming record quantities of sugar? Oh yeah! These things (I hope) balance themselves out.
Amid all of this, my cooking has simultaneously become more repetitive and more creative. Some days, you just have to get through it. Other days, it is essential to break free.
My husband is very into tuna melts, which I think are gross. Prior to the pandemic, I had never made one, because hot canned tuna is disgusting. But he used to venture out once a week to some greasy spoon in Downtown Pittsburgh for a tuna…
