Since going into isolation, my concept of time is hazier than a Grateful Dead show. I’m lucky to be able to work from home, but the lack of a commute, coworkers, or appointments has completely eroded any sense of routine. I’ve spent weeks stoically ignoring most of the unsolicited advice online about trying to keep your routine intact. (Sorry, but I’m not putting on pants and walking around the block each morning to mimic my commute.) I’d sit down on the couch to check my email and look up four hours later, dazzled with blue light and ravenous— then grab food and return to the same position for the rest of the day.
So no wonder it feels like clocks are melting Salvador Dali-style. It’s time to make a change. While everyone else in my neighborhood seems to have taken up jogging, I’m taking an actual lunch break.
In my days of office dwelling, I mainly used lunchtime to run errands or wade through my inbox while eating with my coworkers. But now that those things are no longer an option, I'm trying a new approach. For my own good, I set an alarm for 1 p.m. (creatively titled “lunch”). I also literally called in some reinforcements: my mom, in LA. If you’re not already maxed out on screen-time, you should definitely give FaceTime lunch dates a try.
Time zones get in the way of us actually eating lunch “together.” Still, it’s a good excuse to connect over a meal, even if I’m eating salad while my mom makes breakfast. I FaceTimed her a few days ago and we talked about the spring produce I’m waiting on in New York (which she’s had in California for weeks), the recipes we’re eyeing for the weekend, and my dad’s nascent-but-thriving sourdough endeavor. It felt familiar at a time when nothing else does.
I thought about embracing other lunch-hour activities, like a daily 12 p.m. yoga livestream, but I had trouble sticking to a strict timeline. And, really, I just want to cook myself a hot lunch. Now, I finally have a routine: With Buena Vista Social Club on the speakers, I bloom spices for comforting pots of dal, turn leftover fish into tacos, and griddle way more than my fair share of quesadillas. Cooking has always been meditative for me, but it turns out that taking time out of my workday to turn off my brain and slice some onions is especially potent stuff.
I don't always have time to cook a full meal in the middle of the day, but as the days get warmer, I’m going to try eating outside when I can. There’s a shuttered restaurant on my corner, quietly waiting for the curve to bend, with a few benches in front perfect for perching with a PB&J. Maybe I’ll call my mom and show her the cherry blossoms.
Springy Ricotta Gnocchi With Peas and Herbs
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