The wise scientists are saying that we should get outdoors and into some sunlight on a regular basis. It might be time to open our front doors a crack, and step cautiously outside, following state-mandated COVID-19 requirements. They say that the coronavirus doesn’t seem to spread easily in the great outdoors, although we should be mindful of social distancing, masks and hand sanitation. I say some sunshine is just what the doctor has ordered. I’ll be wearing a hat, my ubiquitous mask, and will be slathered in sunscreen this weekend as I track down a You-Pick-It strawberry farm. It is an opportunity to get out of the house, and go someplace other than the petri dish that is our weekly visit to the grocery store.

If you can’t visit a farm, lots of farmers markets are devising safe contactless ways for us to produce and grocery shop. Call ahead, or visit their websites, so you can support our local food producers. You do not want all those luscious strawberries to go to waste!

A few weeks ago we bought some strawberries (from California) at the grocery store. I have a limited repertoire of strawberry recipes, because why mess with perfection? Strawberry shortcake has always seemed the natural answer for what to do with a couple of pints of strawberries. And like my mother before me, I reached for the trusty box of Bisquick that always stands on a shelf in the pantry. Did I check the expiration date on the box? Of course not. I hate to admit this, for once the child was right.

We laugh that one of our children always checks expiration labels. I don’t worry about them much, because things seem to fly off the shelves with great and alarming regularity. He checks religiously, assiduously, and obsessively, one might say. I guess he was deeply scarred by eating something that was stale once, and now it is his one of his weird character traits. (Obviously I have bigger things to worry about – like what the heck did I plant in all those little seed starters? The Sharpie marker label faded away, and now I have several pots of burgeoning mystery plants, without a clue as to what will emerge once they all bloom. That’s a real worry.)

For our strawberry shortcake dessert I mixed up a batch of Bisquick shortcake dough (following the recipe on the side of the box, as one does), rolled it out and cut out six little rounds with the ancestral biscuit cutter, and popped those babies in the oven. I cleaned the strawberries, sliced and sugared them before pouring water (with a little lemon juice) over the slices to lightly macerate them. I whipped the cream, and enjoyed licking the beaters by myself, because I don’t have any pesky know-it-all children here to share with.

And then the oven timer went off. Ding. Flat-as-pancake shortcakes lay sullenly on the cookie sheet. Back into the oven for another couple of minutes, just to see if they needed a little more baking time. Nope. Nothing was going to fix these now dark brown and scorched hockey pucks. They were as leaden and heavy as if I had attempted sourdough bread again. And they sailed right into the trash.

We had delicious strawberries and whipped cream for dessert. Then I sadly examined the Bisquick box playing Kitchen CSI. In bold type there was a Best-Served-By date of 2016. Whoops. So I have to take it all back, Tall One. You were right. Check the damn dates.

Last weekend I tried a Dorie Greenspan recipe for “Tumble-Jumble Strawberry Tart” which was just divine. It was basically a dense lemony shortbread, slathered with strawberry jam, fresh sliced strawberries and whipped cream. The cake is not supposed to rise. I managed to avoid more humiliation until I can get back to the grocery store and buy a new box of Bisquick. Or this might take the place of the old family secret recipe, since not only was it delicious, you can make it ahead of time, and freeze the crust. Genius. It is a new take on one of our favorite springtime desserts. Imagine trying this with peaches, or raspberries, or any seasonal fruit. Things may be looking up!

Go forth and frolic in the sun. For a little while anyway.

https://www.laweekly.com/a-recipe-from-the-chef-dorie-greenspans-la-palette-strawberry-tart-recipe/

“The human body is vapor materialized by sunshine mixed with the life of the stars.”
-Paracelsus

Nobody’s going out to dinner these days. Instagram isn’t filled with those envy-inducing shots of tantalizing dishes at gastropubs and haute chophouses, with hard-to-score reservations and Michelin stars. There isn’t much fancy cooking going on anyplace, as we all huddle in our home kitchens and try to sustain ourselves actually and aesthetically. Everyone is down with simple cooking. And some days it’s difficult to move past the skills necessary to open and eat a box of Cap’n Crunch.

I have to admit that I am always a little slow to see what is trending. I guess it’s because I’m not glued to the internet all day long, and some things just pass me by. And that can be a good thing. I’ve missed out on the Kardashians, Dancing with the Stars, quinoa, Tiger King, K-pop, emojis, Tik Tok, and now sour dough bread.

Everyone who is anyone is baking competitive loaves of sour dough bread, and then posting the images on Instagram and Facebook and one suspects, Snapchat, if one was cool enough to have a Snapchat following. People don’t only post their bragging success photos – they are very proud to show you their big fat failures: the loaves of sour dough bread that could double for Olympic curling stones.

If I had sour dough starter to begin with, I am sure that that’s where my bread would be categorized – heavy, leaden, inedible loaves that could serve as door stops. Luckily, no sour dough starter has materialized in our kitchen. I would probably kill it, anyway.

There are ways to make your own sour dough starter. But frankly, I have started painting the back porch, and that’s one project I would like to finish in time for summer. But here is a little guidance if you have more time on your hands, and need a project: https://www.feastingathome.com/sourdough-starter/

Here is some more science: https://www.discovermagazine.com/the-sciences/whats-the-difference-between-sourdough-starter-and-yeast

I have had successes and massive failures baking bread. The failures came because I am impatient, and cannot wait for the bread to rise, often over night. When I start to bake, I would like immediate gratification. That’s why brownies are always so satisfying. Even Mark Bittman’s No-Knead Bread requires time and patience. It calls for a 24-hour prep time. https://www.markbittman.com/recipes-1/no-knead-bread
And yes, it is very tasty, eventually.

Which is why focaccia is the bread for me in these trying times.

Skillet focaccia: https://www.thekitchn.com/focaccia-recipe-261454

These are easy directions – you can start after lunch and have tasty, fresh, piping hot focaccia for dinner. My favorite part was poking the little dimples into the dough after it has risen. And then artfully scattering the rosemary leaves, which I picked from the plant running wild in the container garden. (The rosemary plant has thrived outside even through the past two winters. It is an amazement to me.)

I just loved baking this focaccia in the cast iron skillet. I’m adding it to the list of good foods that can be prepared in just one pan – always a plus in my book because most of the time I am the designated dishwasher. It was crispy and crusty and tasted divine dipped in a small saucer of olive oil and garlic, salt, pepper, dried oregano and basil. It is practically a meal unto itself. Add salad and wine, and if you are being really pesky, an entrée. Mr. Friday and I gobbled up half a pan, which left half a pan to go in the freezer, that we hauled out delightedly a few nights later. Food in the freezer = money in the bank and less prep time. More time to paint the back porch, or weed the lettuce bed, or sneak in another episode of “Run”. Use your quarantine time wisely.

Show us your baking projects on the Spy Facebook pages. We are too old for Snapchat. https://www.facebook.com/thetalbotspy/ and https://www.facebook.com/thechestertownspy/

“All sorrows are less with bread.”
― Miguel de Cervantes

May is National Salad Month.It is also National Barbecue Month, National Hamburger Month, and National Strawberry Month. It is going to be a good month for eating. I hope our quarantine condition lessens it constraints soon, but in the meantime, we have lots of garden planning and digging to do.

Now is a good time to get a jump on cool-season vegetables. You can start the annual competition with the deer and rabbits for the finest lettuces, broccoli and spinach. We are going to try some mixed, loose-leaf, heat tolerant lettuces this year. I want to enjoy the practical concepts of growing our own lettuce, with an eye to the enviable.

That is always the best part of gardening, seeing everything in your mind’s eye in the gauzy Instagram future. Somehow there I am always wearing a float-y white outfit as I drop my bountiful harvest into my antique garden basket. I love the way I am always in total denial about mosquitoes and fiery ant bites.

This morning I snuck out of our quarantine shutdown and ran, carefully masked, to the grocery store where I was appalled to see that this price – $4.09 for a single puny bag of pre-washed mixed spring greens! Holy smokes! We are fighting back. Last weekend we shopped locally, and we bought some lettuce plants at our charming independent hardware store (along with some very attractive tomato plants) and we spent the quarantined weekend elbow deep in the dirt in the garden.

We are watching the new garden with the anxiety level of people in search of a new binge-worthy Netflix show. When Mr. Friday wanders out of his home office (the kitchen table) around 6, we amble outside with glasses of cheap white wine, tossing the ball for Luke the wonder dog, and then we circle the newly rabbit-proof-fenced garden. The first blossoms on a tomato plants were duly noted on Wednesday. Right now the lettuces are scarcely large enough to interest the neighborhood bunnies. But still, we dream.

We dream about lettuce wraps, and salads. Deelish medleys of chopped and sautéed vegetables and tender meats wrapped in brilliant green lettuce leaves, grown in our own back yard. Or a bowl heaped with crisp fresh lettuce leaves, peppers and tomatoes, topped with sizzling slices of steak. It has been a very long winter, hasn’t it, that now we are dreaming in these lengthy days of social distancing of the golden glories of summer harvests and parties with friends? The weeding hasn’t even begun and we are hurling ourselves into the future, with delusional projections of bumper crops. It will be the best vegetable garden ever, our eight foot by 4 foot allotment of expensive, perfect, bug-free, pesticide-free veggies.

Is there anything more boring than an iceberg lettuce salad? It is nothing but tasteless, crunchy water, slathered in oleaginous dressings, dotted with hot house tomatoes, sprinkled with stale croutons. Do you remember Bac’n Bits – those leathery maroon soy flakes that purportedly tasted like bacon? I am much happier now that I fry my croutons in bacon fat, and then crunch that real bacon up and scatter it on my salad, not overlooking a smackeral for my constant, dogging companion. How about orange French dressing? Now we can hurl a garlic clove into a bowl, douse it with good oil and vinegar and salt, and there we have it, the best salad dressing ever. Holy smokes, the times have changed, and everything salad-wise keeps getting better.

Personally I could never understand the appeal of the wedge salad. Whack a wedge out of a head of iceberg lettuce, dribble it in bottled blue cheese dressing, serve it on a minimalistic square plate and charge $9 for it. I could do that at home, except that I wouldn’t. I would rather eat something a little more flavorful and deelicious. How about you?

Our Caesar Salad
1 head of Romaine lettuce, washed and torn (not cut) into bite-size pieces
1 cup cubed, tasty, firm bread
¼ cup bacon fat
1 large clove of garlic, crushed
¼ cup excellent extra virgin olive oil
Salt and pepper, to taste
1 lemon, halved, with the seeds removed
1 splash Worcestershire sauce
½ cup fresh grated Parmesan cheese
½ teaspoon thyme

Heat the bacon fat in a small frying pan, add the crushed garlic clove and toss the bread cubes in the hot fat until bread is brown and crunchy. Drain on paper towels. Sprinkle with salt and pepper and thyme.

Put the lettuce in a bowl (we like to use a large, shallow wooden bowl), and drizzle with some olive oil. Toss the lettuce well, in a bold, jolly fashion, adding squirts of lemon juice and a dash or two of Worcestershire and coat the leaves well. Add the Parmesan cheese and toss briskly. Put on plates, or in shallow bowls, add the crouton if there are any left. (Generally our kitchen help tests the crouton and we have very few to add to the salads. Thus the serving for two.)

Enjoy! Any wine will do.

Here are a couple of helpful salad dressing links from Martha and Food52:

Martha’s Bleu Cheese Dressing: https://www.marthastewart.com/355217/blue-cheese-salad-dressing

Heart health be damned! Try this Bacon Vinaigrette Salad Dressing from Food52: https://food52.com/recipes/218-bacon-vinaigrette

“…so even if spring continues to disappoint
we can say at least the lettuce loved the rain.”

― Lisa Olstein

We are trying to maintain a cheery outlook and some degree of sanity as we plod along in this new pandemic, cooped-up world. Mr. Friday works from home, at the kitchen table most days, while I am toiling in the studio. We chat on bathroom breaks and when I wander out to the kitchen for a swig of Diet Coke. We meet in the middle, at the kitchen counter, for lunch, where we discuss our dinner plans. Remember the glory days of going out for dinner? Sigh. We do, too.

Our weekends loom large and there are only so many home projects we can collaborate on before a little friction wears our taut tempers even thinner. Last weekend we primed and painted a dozen replacement window shutters for the house. They are still sitting in the garage on Thursday morning waiting for the final coat of paint. Then I emptied out the window boxes for said windows, and planted them with expensive, yet such tiny, petunias, impatiens, sweet potato vines and lobelia. (You can barely see them from the street!) The front of the house looks tidier. The side of the house, with two other window boxes I completely forgot about, looks sad and neglected. I promise I will get around to it this weekend.

Last weekend we also emptied out, culled and reorganized the freezer, and catalogued the remaining contents. It is amazing what we will do for entertainment these days. Other people watch Netflix on their individual screens in remote parts of their apartments, and we decide it would be fun to clean out the refrigerator. Together.

Happily, we now have the bread collection under control. It is amazing how many singleton hot dog buns were carefully nestled in the freezer. Ever since we started the annoying habit of scrawling the freezer entry date on the plastic storage bags, we are appalled by how long we hold onto things. I doubt if we took such care with our children’s preschool art projects. I have already bored you with the fun fact that our 10th Anniversary Commemorative tin of Old Bay Seasoning was only replaced upon the 20th Anniversary. I doubt there is much of a re-sale market for vintage Old Bay. Let alone the 2-years-past-its-sell-by-date long-life milk carton that I just found it the back of the fridge. I had bought it for a hurricane a few years ago, and naively assumed it was good forever. Last week I discovered the August 2019 date stamped on it. Whoops.

Now that the fridge is in relative apple pie order, this weekend we will tackle organizing the pantry. Aren’t you glad you have to stay home and can’t drop by to visit?

When we aren’t trying to come to grips with our squirrelly behavior we do long for the good old days of jumping in the car and going to a restaurant. My final meal would be spaghetti from a great red sauce, family-run Italian restaurant in Stamford, Connecticut: Pellicci’s.* Pellicci’s was our family’s go-to spot for celebrations. It had red and white tablecloths and amiable, voluble owners who would always greet my father like he was their long-lost cousin. My brother and I would tuck into the spaghetti with gusto. We still like to eat there whenever I get up to Connecticut. It reminds us of our childhoods, and the meals we shared with our parents, back when our big decision was whether to have spaghetti or pizza.

Most Friday nights Mr. Friday and I make homemade pizza. We have perfected the dough and the baking time over the years. Last weekend we decided to branch out in our fantasy restaurant world and try, again, to make homemade pasta. If we can’t go to Pellicci’s, we could bring Pellicci’s here. While there was no waitstaff who were delighted to see us, we made a credible meal. It was an adventure in dining that was diverting and delicious. And we whiled away another evening in isolation.

Luckily, you can do this, too. Go look in your pantry, and grab the flour. If your fridge is nicely organized you will know where to find the eggs, just like us. The olive oil is on the counter near the stove, along with the container of salt. We cheated and used a jar of Rao’s marinara sauce, which was also in the pantry. If you have a little more time on your hands, and who doesn’t, make your own pasta sauce. But we were intent on survival – not completely re-inventing the wheel. I know Mr. Pellicci wouldn’t mind if we scrimped this once.

This is the pasta dough recipe we used: https://www.bonappetit.com/recipe/fresh-pasta-dough

3 large eggs, beaten to blend
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 teaspoon kosher salt

Mix eggs, flour, oil, and salt in the bowl of a stand mixer with your hands until a shaggy dough forms. Knead with dough hook until dough is smooth and elastic, about 10 minutes. Cover dough with plastic wrap and let rest at least 30 minutes.
Cut and roll as desired.

We used the fancy Kitchen-Aid pasta attachment for rolling out the fettuccine. We managed to dust flour all over the kitchen, but it was fun. Heavens to Betsy. Do you remember fun? It was as good as Play-doh. But this time around, you can eat it. And Instagram it!

Food52’s recipe is even more basic – no olive oil! Perfect for when you can’t go back to the store, because we really should be staying home. https://food52.com/recipes/27825-simple-fresh-pasta

And if you have a can of tomatoes in the pantry, you can make a better sauce than we used: https://picky-palate.com/10-minute-homemade-pasta-sauce/. Don’t scimp on the garlic.

Add some grated cheese, some cheesy Dean Martin music, a little antipasto (celery sticks work fine) and some modest red wine. Check out the bread collection in your freezer; you might unearth something resembling garlic bread. Enjoy! You have acquired a new skill, learned how to make a new dish, and had a virtual dining out experience. And we will all muddle through.

“Everything you see I owe to spaghetti.”
-Sophia Loren

*https://pelliccis.com

Are you feeling spring-y? I am feeling anxious because we are not cooped up in a fifth-floor-walkup in New York City, where my dog walking would be the sole outings for the day. I am lucky to have a back yard, with a garden that is beckoning me to come out and weed and thin seedlings. The hydrangeas are greening up. The tomatoes are in. I’m transferring the daffodil bulbs from containers into places in the yard where the daff display was a little sparse this year. I can sit out on the back porch and enjoy some sunshine with my sandwich at lunch, and watch the dogwood blossoms dancing in the spring breeze.

The fact that I am not feeling spring-y reflects the difficult times the world is experiencing. I need to thank my lucky stars for this glorious spring weather, and knuckle down to at least go through the motions of preparing for Easter. No Easter egg hunts this year. And I can’t justify buying jelly beans if I am not going to be tucking them into anyone’s Easter baskets. And Peeps? They hardly count as essential. I toyed with the idea of trying to make homemade Peeps. There is a highly amusing Bon Appétit video about Claire Saffitz recreating Peeps, but when I looked at the ingredient list I was pretty sure that neither I, nor you, Gentle Reader, has a secret stash of gelatin or potato starch in our pantries. Next year, that’s when we will make Peeps from scratch, and eschew store-bought.

One thing we do have in abundance is fresh eggs. We are a Farm Family, and once a month we get two dozen eggs and a whole chicken from our favorite poultry farmer. And they are such beauties! I don’t know how many chickens they have laying eggs, because every month we get another array of jewel toned-eggs: green, blue, brown, pale beige, rust, speckles. We won’t need to dye any eggs this year, the natural colors are quite beauteous without any chemical enhancement.

Eggs by themselves are charming, joyous and symbolic. Add some of the precious ingredients from our pantries, and larders, and we can make all sorts of Easter delights without offending the hard-working grocery clerks with our whimsical caprices. Surely they wouldn’t begrudge us Challah, or bacon, or English muffins? Whereas they might have looked askance if we had asked the whereabouts of potato starch

Behold, the Spy Test Kitchen’s Easter Breakfast Listicle for the Season of Social-Distancing and Self-isolation. Use Zoom to add friends, relatives and acquaintances liberally. And remember, breakfast can be eaten at any time of the day. Be creative. Add Champagne.

French Toast
My very own French Toast recipe on Food52: https://food52.com/recipes/4622-weekend-french-toast

Bacon, Egg and Cheese Casserole
With only 2 of us, I halved this recipe: https://www.twopeasandtheirpod.com/bacon-potato-and-egg-casserole/#wprm-recipe-container-39516

Bacon Cheddar Quiche
This recipe will hold you in good stead – because you can use it for lunch, dinner, cocktail parties, brunches, small village fêtes, you name it. You will be popularity personified.
https://iwashyoudry.com/bacon-cheddar-quiche-recipe/

Eggs Benedict
Sleep in your guest room, pretend you are staying in a hotel, and on Easter morning treat yourself to a posh hotel breakfast. Don’t forget a bowl of strawberries; they will be in season soon, and you can go pick some yourself. We hope.
https://tastesbetterfromscratch.com/eggs-benedict-with-homemade-hollandaise-sauce/

Baked Eggs
This will come in handy when we are having houseguests again, and need to rustle up breakfast for a crowd. In the meantime, it is easy for just one or two, too. https://www.epicurious.com/recipes-menus/how-to-make-baked-eggs-article

Cheese Soufflé
You’ve got time on your hands. Do you want to learn how to code, or to make something fabulous? https://cooking.nytimes.com/recipes/1015853-cheese-souffle?

Egg in the Hole
And after you have become a soufflé whiz, this will seem very easy, and yet, so deelish: https://thepioneerwoman.com/cooking/egg-in-a-hole-see-alternate-names-below/

Deviled Eggs
And what would Easter leftovers be without some deviled eggs? Or a picnic? https://www.brit.co/smoked-salmon-deviled-eggs-recipe/

Be kind. Be strong. Wash your hands.

*https://www.bonappetit.com/video/watch/gourmet-makes-pastry-chef-attempts-to-make-gourmet-peeps

“I suppose the best kind of spring morning is the best weather God has to offer.”
― Dodie Smith

Having burrowed deep into our self-isolation I am feeling a little bereft. There are so many problems in the world which are huge and looming and frightening. My little hill of beans is pretty inconsequential. After wallowing in Contagion, and skirting Chernobyl, I have opted for a little light humor and armchair travel. We are enjoying the absurdity of Travel Man, (on Hulu and Amazon Prime) where Richard Ayoade travels to glam spots around the globe and eats and drinks delightful comestibles. He does this with a cute British accent, in charming company, and on an expense account. It sounds like the perfect job assignment.

The Spy’s budget is a little more restrictive. As is my itinerary. I can sneak out a couple of times a week to tear quickly through the grocery store, which is 1.2 miles from our house. The supplies there are limited, too. But this week I was able to score a pound of bacon and some lovely vermillion slicing tomatoes. I am going to treat myself to a nice lunch, much like the ones I used to enjoy in 2019. It’s time for homemade BLTs; my fave.

I love BLTs. Bacon, lettuce, tomato, with a judicious schmear of mayonnaise is my dream lunch. Throw in a generous serving crispy wavy potato chips and a Diet Coke and you cannot possibly ask for anything more. Club sandwiches have a certain appeal, I know, but they are awkward to eat; all that bread. There are multiple layers which just yield to disappointment and crumbling. And the turkey goes sliding, and things fall apart, and inevitably you wind up using your fingers. Which is never a good look if you happen to be on a first date. But who is dating in April of 2020, anyway? Let’s stick with the tried and true; the very essentials.

Let’s start with the bacon. Since this is Friday, I say we can go wild and each have four pieces of bacon. I like cooking bacon on parchment paper on a cookie sheet. I preheat the oven to 425° F. I try to use thick-cut applewood smoked bacon. At this point in our sequestering I am very happy with the store brand, however. We must not be snobs. If you can hunt and gather thick-cut bacon, lucky you, cook it for about 15 minutes without supervision. You might want to flip it, so the juicy, crunchy, wavy nature of bacon is completely optimized. So do not go on a Twitter-rant and lose track of time. If you wind up using thinner bacon, keep an eye on the oven and check every few minutes. Bacon can self-immolate without much notice. And burnt bacon is beyond repair.

Bread is important, too. I like either Pepperidge Farm white bread, or a nice deli rye. Some people are fancy and want to use challah, or pumpernickle, or croissants. It is a personal choice, based on your childhoods, and your degree of pretense. Please lightly toast the bread, and spread each slice with a light, even coating of Hellmann’s mayonnaise, or Duke’s, if you grew up with it.

Tomatoes must be red and juicy and absolutely grown outside in good dirt with lots of sunshine. So obviously the best BLTs are constructed in the summer, with your own sun-warmed tomatoes. You might need to use your imagination in April, with whatever produce your grocery store has been able to snag from local suppliers. (I put our tomato plants in the raised-bed garden last weekend, and am hoping for the best, and that I didn’t plant them too early.) Use a couple of tomato slices for each sandwich. It really isn’t all about the bacon – you need tomato juice running down your chin and onto your pajamas to get the full experience of BLTs in the time of quarantine.

Lettuce is simple. Every refrigerator, despite the best efforts of the Bon Appétit-reading aspirational cook, has at least one head of iceberg lettuce. It’s in the back, near the baking soda and the bacon grease can. Tear off a few crunchy leaves and wash, gently, in cool restorative water. Blot carefully. Do not even contemplate substituting rocket or endive or Romaine lettuce. This is sacred.

Layering is important – toast, mayonnaise, bacon, tomato slices, lettuce, mayonnaise, toast. Slice on the diagonal. Serve on a large plate, with a towering pile of potato chips and a slice of dill pickle. Add a glass of Diet Coke, or chocolate milk is you really want to be decadent. Add a cloth napkin, and whatever book you are currently reading. I am reading an autobiography of one of Princess Margaret’s ladies-in-waiting. It is chock-full of snobs, scandal and vicious gossip; priceless commodities these days.*

If the BLT isn’t your favorite sandwich in the whole wide world I feel very sorry for you. But the idea here is to treat yourself to something nice. Maybe you would rather have a hot grilled cheese with some tomato soup. I don’t often cook lunch for myself. I usually wander into the kitchen and rummage through the fridge for last night’s leftovers, or pull out a jar of peanut butter and a sleeve of Ritz crackers. Pathetic.

If you are able to, treat yourself to an unexpected nice meal. We all need a little cheering up. And a BLT will certainly put a smile on your face.

Our lovely friends at Food52 always have great ideas. I would like you to notice that I am not suggesting you make your own mayonnaise. Sheesh! https://food52.com/blog/10855-5-tips-for-a-better-blt

Nor am I telling you to get the grill out! https://www.bonappetit.com/recipe/grilled-bacon-blts

“It is more fun to talk with someone who doesn’t use long, difficult words but rather short, easy words, like ‘What about lunch?’”
– A. A. Milne

*Lady in Waiting: My Extraordinary Life in the Shadow of the Crown
by Anne Glenconner

How are you coping during the great Coronavirus quarantine? Most of the time we feel good about keeping our neighbors safe, and ourselves, too. Other times we are feeling a little forlorn and bereft. Our social life, which hasn’t been great since our children stopped having playgroups, is about the same. We walk the dog for exercise and much-needed Vitamin D, but we have stopped going to the gym. I have broken my daily habit of running to the grocery store every time the nature abhors a vacuum in the pantry. Even the UPS guy has stopped knocking, which is a good thing because Luke the wonder dog is convinced he is a Nazi stormtrooper coming after us, and tries to claw through the front door whenever we get a delivery. Still, it was nice to shout,“Thank you!” to a human being as he ran for his life.

I miss conversation. I miss yakking about something as innocuous as the weather or the new stripes being painted in the store parking lot. I miss just yakking. I still have a reflexive urge to check the answering machine whenever we come home – keep in mind we haven’t had a land line in five years, let along an answering machine. Almost everyone has a smartphone these days. I was startled when mine rang the other day, and there was a real, live person on the other end. Not a telemarketer, or a political campaign. A person who wanted to talk with me! I am inclined to think that my bar has been set way too low lately.

One of my dearest friends from college was out for a walk, and decided to use the telephone feature of the tiny computer she carries in her pocket to connect with me. She wasn’t Googling anything. She wasn’t checking IMDB to see how old Bill Pullman was. She wasn’t taking a photo or listening to a podcast. What a brilliant concept! She touched the little button by my name in her address book while she was out getting some socially distanced exercise in her neighborhood, and we yakked for an hour about work, parents, children, dogs, television shows, knitting, books, weddings, travel, new babies and due babies. An hour flew by, and we were eighteen again. And we resolved to conquer technology, and to get together with some other friends from Washington College at a virtual cocktail party. We are going to Zoom, Skype, FaceTime, Google Hangouts, What’s App. We’ll figure it out. We are going to have a Quarantini Hour, where we will consume alcohol and laugh our brains out and see each other’s smiling faces. What a concept! Wish us luck.

But you should try it, too. Reach across the great abyss and use technology to visit the village of your college friends, or that old pre-school playgroup, or even your own kids. Plan a time to get together with your book group. Put on some lipstick, if you are so inclined; under-eye concealer is our friend. Set up your laptop or your iPad or your phone in a place where you can control the lighting. Watch the camera angle – lately some of the people on the evening news being interviewed from their improvised home studios look like chinless wonders. Have the camera be in line with your eyes. Good lighting is paramount. Don’t sit with windows behind you. Then find a neutral background. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FMex-9FyljU But after the first scotch and soda, who is going to care?

The past is a foreign country. In those long ago days at Washington College when we first met, it was legal for us to drink beer at 18. We shake our heads nowadays at the notion that there was a college-sponsored beer wagon at our freshman orientation. (I can still see my mother craning her neck, reluctantly waving goodbye to me that first time she left me behind in Chestertown. She was incredulous; I had a beer in my hand!) So we grew up in a culture that believed in a cocktail hour. We often had themed parties, with the appropriate cocktail for each bash. I am glad to say that we outgrew Purple Jesus Punch. In our more recent years we decided that the Cosmo was pretty, and it was sophisticated enough for us, now that we were all grown up. We also discovered that three is our limit. It should be a glorious Quarantini. Cheers!

Cosmo à la Shirl
https://www.bonappetit.com/recipe/cosmopolitan

The French 75 is now my cocktail of choice. When we used to go out, back in the day, in February, I would order a French 75. On Saturday nights now Mr. Friday mixes up one or two for me.

French 75
https://www.bonappetit.com/recipe/french-75-3 That is Bon Appétit’s way.

This is Mr. Friday’s recipe:
2 ounces Cognac (he likes his with 2 ounces of elderberry cordial)
¾ ounce fresh lemon juice
¾ ounce simple syrup
2 ounces Champagne (but Prosecco works just fine!)
Lemon twist

For your Quarantini you can always have beer, pricey white wine, a V&T, Two Buck Chuck, Diet Coke, Champagne, Prosecco, coffee, tea or water. What is important is not feeling alone. Spread your love, and see how far it goes. Like good butter. Pick up your phone, and socialize.

“I’ve been homesick for countries I’ve never been, and longed to be where I couldn’t be.”
― John Cheever