Blogs

By Hillary Ibarra

The First Two Weeks

Dear Food Journal,

I've eaten a whole chocolate cheesecake I froze in February for special occasions.

Also, to console my family during shelter-in-place, I have so far made several Thanksgiving/Christmas/Easter/Fourth of July feasts consisting of turkey, ham, Cornish hens, sweet potato souffle, mashed potatoes, homemade butter rolls, dressing, cinnamon rolls, pumpkin pie, brownies, yellow cake, donuts and banana pudding.

When this quarantine is over, my athletically built husband and kids are going to be slightly out of shape.

Me?

I'm going to bounce down the street like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man from Ghostbusters, smiling from my puffy, white face and frightening the neighbors.

Week Three

Dear Food Log,

The broth in my beef stew was undeniably awesome, and my family just sat there slurping ungratefully. Not one of them complimented my cooking.

So I said, "This broth is good. I mean really good." Then I glared at them all.

What did I get for my trouble? Now every time I set a bowl of soup in front of these reprobates, they mock, "Oooooh, quick! Someone tell her how good the broth is!"

Week Four

Dear Culinary Demon Diary,

The hormones made me do it.

Never cook when dealing with PMS from corona hormonal hell!

While concocting black bean quesadillas for supper, I cackled and sobbed and burnt the tortillas. Black beans are now crusted on my non-stick skillet, and I spilled olive oil all over the stove, counter and coffee maker. (I was NOT trying to set the kitchen on fire!)

My husband had the gall to sigh while helping to clean it up, so I scream-minded him, "This is not my fault! I told you to order food!" before storming out of the house to stand in the street, because #quarantine.

The next night that man ordered some dang food!

But now I'm fretting that the neighbors heard my rant through the open kitchen window, think I'm insane and are plotting to rescue my husband and children from my company.

I can't quarantine alone!

Or can I?

Week Five

Dear dumb flog (food log),

I was trying to make my husband a special lunch today to make up for the hellcat I was last week.

After 20 years of cooking rice regularly, you wouldn't think I could mess it up.

How can rice be soggy and crunchy at the same time?

And why on earth did the pork medallions taste like alfalfa pellets?

I'm losing my touch.

Maybe my sanity!

Can home cooks go on strike while sheltering-in-place?

Week Six

Dear only friend I have left in this world,

Will I ever find yeast again?

I never knew how much I needed those microscopic fungi to live my best quarantine life! How can I make homemade pizza, sweet rolls and donuts every day without them?

I need comfort food, darn it! I need sugar bread!

Going now to google how to make yeast from rotten fruit

Week Seven

Dear What's Your Name,

All this sugar from home-baked goodies is going to my brain!

Recently, my family was assigning Disney characters to each other based on personality.

For some (unrelated) reason I was trying to remember the name of the Disney princesses I consider to be simple-minded, like Aurora of Sleeping Beauty.

"Who is the princess from Snow White?" I wondered aloud. "She's pretty dim, too. What is her name? It's right there"

"It's Snow White," said my son Berto. "Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs."

"I can't believe I just asked that!" I chuckled. "Who's simple-minded now?"

At least I can blame the coronavirus!

— Hillary Ibarra

Hillary Ibarra is the author of  The Christmas List, an inspirational holiday novella based on real events. Her humor writing has appeared in New Mexico Woman and on various online sites, her favorite being Erma Bombeck Writers' Workshop. She is a contributor at CatholicMom.com and For Every Mom. When not baking, hugging trees or playing endless board games with her children, she writes about family life and adventure in the sunny Southwest at hillaryibarra.com.