shaking the habitual

eating a really big sandwich and the reality of self-care

Mar 29, 2024

A view out my front window, a mix of tall evergreens in the background and a smaller deciduous tree with blossoms in the foreground. The sky is cotton candy blue with pink clouds, and the orange light of sunset shines over everything.

It really does feel like a scam that things like more sunshine and exercise can help us feel better both physically and mentally. As though it can’t possibly be that simple. And our brains sometimes tell us it won’t be that simple, that it will be the hardest thing in the world to just go outside and take a walk, or go down to the gym a couple of times a week, so we can very easily convince ourselves not to do it, telling ourselves that it won’t be worth the time.

Anyway, this week I finally forced myself to take advantage of the fact that our building has a gym, in spite of the fact that dragging myself out of the apartment for almost any reason lately has felt like a chore, and the fact that it would involve the mortifying ordeal of being perceived in a semi-public place. I admit it didn’t help that I got so worked up about it I initially couldn’t find the fob sensor for the door and got so embarrassed about it I had to go back home for an hour and work up to it again. (In my defense, the fob is in a stupid and non-intuitive place.) But I did it, and was shocked and enraged by how much better I started to feel almost immediately. Why did I wait so long?

Parks & Recreation screenshots. In the top one, Ann is saying "Jogging is the worst, Chris." In the bottom one, the line continues: "I mean, I know it keeps you healthy, but god, at what cost?" — people who actually enjoy jogging you are stronger than the troops

The concept of self-care has been commodified to a point that it’s easy to lose sight of what it actually looks like. The term was meant to remind us to look after ourselves in the ways we might feel like we can’t, or don’t have time for, or don’t deserve to; to notice when we’re stretching ourselves too thin or neglecting things we’ve forgotten we’ve needed. It doesn’t always mean taking a bath or a nap or doing a sheet mask and watching But I’m a Cheerleader and ordering pizza instead of going out. Sometimes it does! But a lot more often, it can mean doing some of the shit that feels hard to do: exercising, getting some sunshine, cleaning off your desk to make it a less stressful place to work, making a medical appointment, cooking a balanced meal for yourself, making time to be creative, going to see your friends when it’s more comfortable to stay home. I wish you all the ability to follow through on caring for yourself in the way that you need most right now— truly the hardest part can be recognising what that is.

Following my first real workout in [redacted timeframe], knowing I’d be home alone for dinner and presumably ravenous, I made this standby sesame noodle dish using instant ramen for something quick and easy. Before heading to the gym I threw most of the sauce together, leaving it at room temperature while I was gone, and grating in the garlic and ginger while the water was boiling for the noodles once I got back. I had a few leftover quick pickles to use in addition to the fresh cucumber, and I forgot the peanuts but added cilantro and chili crisp. It was the perfect thing to start eating still in my workout clothes, before I’d even fully sat down at the table. When I make this, I almost always make more of the sauce than I’ll need so that I can put it in the fridge for later in the week, when I know I’ll feel like eating it again.

A bowl of instant noodles in sesame sauce, with cucumbers, pickled radish, cilantro, and chili crisp on top. In the background is the cutting board, and on it is a white bowl with the rest of the sauce and a whisk, a pile of garlic skins, and a jar of chili crisp.

I’d been craving mushrooms, and remembered how much I love the shiitake banh mi in Isa Does It. The recipe on her website here is for a salad, but the only real difference is that you’ll want the dressing a little thicker to spread on the sandwiches (start with a teaspoon or so of water and go from there), and you’re swapping out salad greens for baguette. Just make sure it’s the soft kind and not the really crusty kind, unless you want to shred the inside of your mouth. I cut a piece maybe just a bit bigger than 6” for each of us.

Unfortunately for me, shiitakes were too expensive at the market for my unemployed ass to justify buying, so I got portobellos instead. They aren’t as chewy, but they cook down and absorb the sauce in a similarly meaty way. The quick pickled cucumber and radish is absolutely essential here— no matter how much I put on, I’m always eating the sandwich thinking “I could have added a little more pickle”. And the fresh mint and cilantro bring everything together. Few things hit quite like a really, really good sandwich, and this is indeed a really, really good sandwich.

The banh mi described above, viewed from above, with lots of herbs and quick pickles visible. The baguette is open but not fully halved, and you can just see the sauce spilling out a bit at the edge, and some of the mushrooms beneath the vegetables. On a coaster behind the plate is a half-full glass of hazy IPA.

The next day I got to enjoy the last little piece of baguette as part of a much simpler sandwich, since the spread and mushrooms all got used up, but one that was satisfying in a different way. Just butter, cheese, and thinly sliced cucumber & radish with flaked salt— the French are not wrong about radishes with butter and salt!

Speaking of cheese, for several weeks now I have been meaning to make the cashew queso (similar recipe here) also from Isa Does It, but kept forgetting to buy jalapeño for it. Finally I remembered to add it to the grocery list over the weekend, and then got to use the queso to make a big plate of vegan nachos. The other important element for the nachos here comes from the same book: a meaty taco filling made from brown lentils, a little hot sauce & tomato paste, and some seasonings. I don’t have a recipe for it to share, but I don’t really look at the recipe anymore when I make it, either. Cook a little chopped onion with a couple minced cloves of garlic, some chili powder, cumin, coriander, and oregano, then add the lentils and sauces and a bit of salt and it’ll work itself out. Add tablespoons of water if needed and stir until it gets a bit clumpy in the pan, like pieces of ground meat.

Usually I make either pico de gallo or guacamole to go with this, too, but I didn’t have the time, so I used a store-bought salsa and just chopped up some avocado to throw on top. My only regret is I forgot the black olives, an essential for pub-style nachos. I served these, in build-your-own fashion, for dinner at my birthday movie night a few years ago and they were a huge hit.

Two plates of vegan nachos as described above: lentil meat, queso, avocado, and cilantro on top. There's a white french onion soup bowl between them full of chunky red salsa with a spoon in it. Jeff's hand is just visible at the top left of frame, and a pink can of sparkling water is on the coaster next to the plate in the foreground.

One of the things I discovered when reorganising all our frozen food after the move was a big container of roasted squash… from November of ‘22. This week I made it into a passable soup along with the unused lentils I’d cooked to make the ‘meat’ for the nachos, some curry spices, and a little coconut yogurt. I say “passable” only because I’m not a huge fan of the sweeter types of squash like butternut or winter squash (this was definitely one of these); Jeff, on the other hand, thought it was really good. A grilled cheese didn’t feel quite right with this soup, so instead I put some chaat masala and chopped cilantro on a piece of bread, topped it with grated cheddar, and toasted it until the cheese got a little browned and melty. Altogether it made a nice, comforting dinner for a stormy day.

A blue bowl of light brown lentil & squash soup, topped with chili flakes and chopped cilantro, a spoon sticking out of the bowl. Next to it is a small white plate with cheesy toast, browned at the edges and with the cilantro visible beneath the white cheddar. A mason jar of water sits on a coaster, and the light in the trees is just visible out the window at the top of the frame.

This week I spent a lot of time thinking about different cakes and cookies, but didn’t actually get around to baking anything. Maybe tomorrow I’ll find the time to do it. I’ve got my eye on these cookie bars again, with chocolate chips and a little fleur de sel. Keep to the lower end of the baking time if you make them— the edges can get overdone quickly.

Sorry this was relatively short, I’m trying to get back into the swing of writing weekly and I hope to have more to share with you next week. Thanks for reading— if you enjoyed this newsletter, please share it with someone new! I like providing this to you for free, but it does still involve time and effort, so any donations, especially while I’m still looking for work, are greatly appreciated. And even though it’ll be over by the time this is posted, I’m still writing this on the first day of the baseball season, so, happy opening day to those who celebrate.

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