By Kitty
Can midlife crises occur in the kitchen? If so, imagine me standing glassy-eyed in the dull glow of an open refrigerator, wondering what the hell I’d fed myself for the last eighteen-ish years. Cooking was a joy that had recently become lost on me; maybe it was the compounding responsibilities of adulthood, or the addiction to social media that’s ruined my attention span. I could no longer recall the old standbys that I used to whip on a weeknight—their flavors becoming dusty, distant memories. I asked myself what was missing. Was it the time? The tools? The inspiration? Whatever it was, I was dangerously close to being sponsored by DoorDash, so I dubbed 2024 the year I “return to kitchen.”
From January to March I worked on recreating my favorite bowls from CAVA, baking breakfast oats in an oversized muffin tin, and employing my air fryer with churning out crispy chicken tenders to plop on top of pastas and salads. I was dirtying every dish in the cupboard, but these meals were a far cry from the shrimp scampi I used to make from memory on a Wednesday, or the roux I had once mastered for my baked mac and cheese. About halfway through the year, Greg checked in on my loose resolution, and I admitted that the Q1 fervor had worn off.
In the spirit of accountability, he dared me to try a new recipe that might ignite my pilot light. I had offered to bring a side dish to a Father's Day get-together at my dad's house that weekend, so the timing was right. I came across a “Smashed Feta Spring Salad” on Instagram that looked like it might fit the bill. I know a salad sounds super low stakes, but hear me out. The base of the dish was a mixture of chickpeas, romaine, avocado, sugar snap peas, and radish; and both the dressing and feta required the zest of a lemon and inclusion of freshly chopped dill. Two ingredients I wasn’t messing around with on the regular.
I don't know whether it's an aversion to what I deem “extra credit processes” or the touch of depression you may have detected in the first paragraph, but the thought of zesting a lemon and washing and chopping herbs felt daunting to me. Who says the citrus peel is superior to the juice? And can you ever really be sure that greens are clean?
As I rinsed away remnants from my favorite stainless steel bowl post-party, I realized dill is pretty low on my list of favorite herbs. The most enjoyment to be had out of this salad was by my 11-month-old niece who smashed pieces of avocado and feta cheese between her fingers and into her mouth, but mostly all over the patio. While crunchy, the radishes and snap peas were dry and flavorless, and the romaine merely acted as a vehicle for healthy fats. The dish simply didn’t hold its own alongside the juicy cheeseburgers and loaded potato salad that filled out the rest of the spread.
While I wouldn't make this recipe again as written, I did revel in the fact that I had zested a goddamn lemon. It blew my mind in the same way my mom must have felt when I showed her the keyboard shortcut for copy and paste. Or the time I realized it was just as simple to make real mashed potatoes from scratch as it was to blend up those flakes in an Ore Ida box. How could something so easy feel so elevated?
The act of rubbing a cheerful yellow fruit against what may have ultimately been a cheese grater helped me step back into my culinary power. Small, fragrant flakes fell from my new-found magic wand, making me feel like an undeniable candidate for the next Top Chef cohort. The energizing scent swooped in and brightened up my dish and my spirits. If I could zest with such ease, there’s no telling what other kitchen tricks I could conquer—a saute, a braise, or even a blanche. Move over Martha, the bitch is back.
A zesty thank you to this week’s illustrator, Huilin Gui1. See more of her work here.
Huilin Gui is an illustrator and picture book maker based in NYC, from Beijing, China. After graduating from the School of Visual Arts in 2023, she has been creating illustrations in her little apartment. She embraces the imperfections of hand-drawing. Huilin finds inspiration in everyday moments, nature, memories, and themes that connect with people and bring a sense of warmth.
Wow do I relish the PROCESSING of citrus- the juicing, the zesting. And this really speaks to me as someone that comes in and out of cooking "moods".