What do you eat when you're lonely?
I've been waking up before the sun of late. I get two hours of darkness before the sun bestirs itself, which is just long enough to go from "Booyah! I'm going to get so much done" to "I'm sad and hungry and have spent the past hour reading articles on the internet and developing a crush on a YouTube singer". It becomes time to take myself off the internet and to eat something before getting to work, just at about the time the sun rises after having slept sensibly for twelve hours.
It is a different beast, this early morning hunger. It is the one time of day that I don't crave sweets. I also don't manifest the usual symptoms of hunger: the hanger, the snippiness, the hollowness in the stomach. Instead, I get sadder and droopier and send off sentimental text messages to people who are still sensibly asleep. After the third message, I know it is time to go rummaging in the kitchen.
Coffee, of course, is a given. In the summer, when even the early mornings are sweaty, I like to pour my hot coffee over ice and contemplate how mankind tries to make nature its bitch, but in winter, I like to pull on my bright green socks and fix myself a hot cup of black coffee that I sip while trying not to look at the dishes piled in the sink. Of late, I've also discovered the marvel that is nuts roasted in the microwave. I used to think that nuts needed to be roasted in a pan, watched vigilantly and tossed regularly, and still, you would be guaranteed to burn a few. Then I read an article on Serious Eats that suggested using the microwave. I was incredulous, but I tried it, and folks, I've never looked back. In the article, Kenji Lopez-Alt recommends toasting them at one-minute intervals and stirring in between, but I like to live dangerously. I microwave them on high, using the scientific technique of sniffing at the microwave door to tell when they're done. Once I smell toasted nuts with a slight edge of burning, I know I've got them just where I want them. Your standards may be more exacting. I leave them to cool while sipping my coffee and reading Lindy West. Then, I dust my toasted nuts half-heartedly with salt, none of which adheres to them. I could use oil to make them adhere, but I don't like the accompanying grease, so I simply pop a nut into my mouth, followed by a pinch of salt from the plate. It tastes perfectly seasoned.
I've been waking up before the sun of late. I get two hours of darkness before the sun bestirs itself, which is just long enough to go from "Booyah! I'm going to get so much done" to "I'm sad and hungry and have spent the past hour reading articles on the internet and developing a crush on a YouTube singer". It becomes time to take myself off the internet and to eat something before getting to work, just at about the time the sun rises after having slept sensibly for twelve hours.
It is a different beast, this early morning hunger. It is the one time of day that I don't crave sweets. I also don't manifest the usual symptoms of hunger: the hanger, the snippiness, the hollowness in the stomach. Instead, I get sadder and droopier and send off sentimental text messages to people who are still sensibly asleep. After the third message, I know it is time to go rummaging in the kitchen.
Coffee, of course, is a given. In the summer, when even the early mornings are sweaty, I like to pour my hot coffee over ice and contemplate how mankind tries to make nature its bitch, but in winter, I like to pull on my bright green socks and fix myself a hot cup of black coffee that I sip while trying not to look at the dishes piled in the sink. Of late, I've also discovered the marvel that is nuts roasted in the microwave. I used to think that nuts needed to be roasted in a pan, watched vigilantly and tossed regularly, and still, you would be guaranteed to burn a few. Then I read an article on Serious Eats that suggested using the microwave. I was incredulous, but I tried it, and folks, I've never looked back. In the article, Kenji Lopez-Alt recommends toasting them at one-minute intervals and stirring in between, but I like to live dangerously. I microwave them on high, using the scientific technique of sniffing at the microwave door to tell when they're done. Once I smell toasted nuts with a slight edge of burning, I know I've got them just where I want them. Your standards may be more exacting. I leave them to cool while sipping my coffee and reading Lindy West. Then, I dust my toasted nuts half-heartedly with salt, none of which adheres to them. I could use oil to make them adhere, but I don't like the accompanying grease, so I simply pop a nut into my mouth, followed by a pinch of salt from the plate. It tastes perfectly seasoned.
