Emchap's Shit from the Internet 11/11/20 š
Well, the nation has let out a little tiny sigh of knock-on-wood relief, and the election was only last week and the results were only called this weekend and yet it still feels like itās a thing that happened a million years ago, far away, to someone else. Iām a teensy little bit optimistic that we might go back to normal-bad rather than fascist-coup bad but still feel like if I breathe too hard Iāll curse it.
Itās so strange to pull apart which parts of my stress and anxiety were related to the omnipresent fog of the presidency in the background versus Covid stuff versus job stuff versus pandemic meaning I am remaining irritatedly single for the forseeable stuff versus just the normal hum-drum anhedonia of my brain stuff. Things are better but they are still not good; I have spent so much of this week with hurt feelings and frustration and a general desire for folks to Do Better that Iām not meeting myself.
I left the house today to go get a Covid test at Dodger Stadium (no known reason for me to fret, but Iām traveling this weekend). It was surreal to drive through Echo Park and Silverlake, which are of course both basically within walking distance of my house, and realize that there are whole swathes of these neighborhoods that I havenāt seen in literally half a year.
Stores have closed down or moved or reorganized and I couldnāt tell you what half of them were; the ones that remain have outdoor tables at them and I see people out there drinking coffee in the middle of the afternoon on a Wednesday and I feel insane. Am I being safe or am I denying myself some of the small scraps of pleasure this year has to offer in order to feel like Iām winning some sort of contest around self-abnegation because thatās always sort of been How My Brain Works?
I donāt know. And of course thereās no guarantee that my staying safe protects me. Iāll find out some time this week, I suppose, depending on LA Countyās general Situation.
Shit to read
Iām obsessed with this strange, sad story about a hiker who died with an identity nobody can sort out.
Beautiful offerings on the Day of the Dead.
A really great post about local news from a host of my favorite local news podcast.
As someone who spends a lot of time anxious about the consumption I do engage in, I thought this analysis of the ethical consumer movement wasnāt wrong.
News you can use.
Shit to eat
Receive for Christmas, kind of as a joke, a 4ā springform pan. Keep it, because you live alone, and maybe youāll make a cake out of it.
Heat an oven to 350 degrees.
In a pan, melt an ounce of butter and 2 ounces of chocolate chips. When theyāre most of the way there, turn off the heat, and stir until they finish up.
Divide an egg into two bowls.
Whisk the white until foamy, then add a few drops of vinegar and 13 grams of sugar. Whisk until soft peaks or, if youāre me, give up once theyāre slightly opaque because itās hard to really whip a single egg white.
Separately, mix the egg yolk with 13 grams of sugar and a pinch of salt until thick. This will take a minute-ish.
Slowly stir in the melted chocolate and butter. Because this is a tiny amount of batter, youāll likely have to scrape down the bowl.
Fold in the egg whites, a third at a time.
Once mixed, pour into your greased teensy pan.
Place on a baking sheet and pop in the oven for 30-ish minutes. Check after 20, itās tiny and might burn.
Once itās set in the middle but before it starts to burn, take it out of the oven and place on a rack. After 10 minutes or so, run a knife around the edge of the tiny pan and pop the edges off.
If, like mine, your pan doesnāt allow you to lift the sides up because of how it locks, place it on a glass and let the sides drop down instead.
Let it finish cooling, and then slide it off the pan bottom to a plate.
Whip cream and sugar and vanilla until itās your preferred texture, and then top with cherry preserves or whatever other jam you have around.
Enjoy.
(Recipe is a sized-down version of the Sunken Black Forest Cake from Smitten Kitchen.)
Shit to watch
Amy Sedaris, patron saint of the cheerfully weird.
Shit to buy
An advent calendar. The one I got is full of jam.
Popcorn kernels. Theyāre a good snack.