Warm Blankets
on vulnerability and the comforting carrots that make you feel loved
I hope the person who invented the hospital blanket warmer has received adequate recognition (and compensation) for this game-changer that can quickly turn a cold, clinical experience from scary to cozy. Ditto to the person who thought headphones and playlists would be a good distraction during an MRI. You can be tits-down in a trough with warm blankets on your back and the faint soundtrack of your youth in your ears, thanks to The Bridge playlist, and almost ignore the jackhammer whirring of the machine as you unwittingly are slid back and forth into the chamber. Enveloped in warmth and care, you can cede control.
A year ago, I was in St. Petersburg, Florida. It was the beginning of Breast Cancer Awareness month and the ubiquitous pink ribbons taunted me. The day before I left Seattle, I’d had a biopsy and been told I probably had breast cancer. When I returned home, I would begin the long 13-month crawl through treatment and recovery.
The day before I left Florida, Hamas attacked Israel. A year later, that horrific conflict continues and has expanded. The area of Florida I visited is dealing with the aftermath of the worst storm it’s experienced in a century. Two of my friends, who comforted me after my diagnosis, are now also in treatment for breast cancer.
Each week, I make phone calls around the country on behalf of the Democratic National Committee. Not all of these calls result in hang-ups. Once in a while someone reveals some vulnerable aspect of their life. I’ve talked to convicted felons, the elderly, invalids, stressed out healthcare providers, people worrying about money, and the parents of newborns.
Welcome, comfort food season.
In case it’s not obvious, cooking is my love language, and that’s also the case for J. With our elderly dog and his medications in tow, we set out on a ferry ride with a cooler full of food to visit J’s mother, who lives on an island in the Strait of Juan de Fuca. J pre-made his famous Hainanese Chicken Rice and we had a beautiful piece of wild salmon to share, along with a loaf of olive fougasse from our neighborhood bakery. I threw in random items from our CSA farm share, not sure what, if anything, I would cook.
My mother-in-law’s island home is the epitome of cozy. It wills you to relax, let your cares fall away, read books intently, and sleep deeply. Yet we were there to provide comfort.
Poking around in her refrigerator, I was surprised to find tahini. So I smothered my farm share carrots in tahini and honey, added some crunchy salt, and put them in the oven to roast. It was a risky move. My mother-in-law’s appetite has grown finickier with age and she is wary of the unfamiliar. It didn’t help that her oven ran hot and I ended up overcooking the carrots.
Reader, she loved them.
We had a few days back in Seattle before embarking on a trip to Michigan to visit J’s father and step-mother. My trip would be shorter than J’s because I had an MRI scheduled the morning after I returned, and my regular cancer treatment the morning after that.
With our international move looming and aging parents to worry about, we were both feeling frazzled, but how could I ignore the fact that chanterelles are in season and this is a bumper crop year?
My friend Nina posted on Facebook that she had made a chanterelle chicken potpie and I begged her for the recipe, which comes from the
book, Wild Mushrooms, from the Northwest Homegrown Cookbook series.I think you can probably guess what happened next.
Not only did I make that delicious chicken chanterelle pot pie, but I broke my rule about only allowing myself three new cookbooks before we move and bought the mushroom book as well.
It was easy to rationalize. It’s a small book and when we are far away in Portugal, the recipes will remind me of the Pacific Northwest and bring comfort in case we are homesick.
***
We call my father-in-law El Excelente.
Cooking for him is like being a contestant in a reality show. You try to find a recipe that will please him and he lets you know how you did.
On our first day in Michigan, I had big plans to make a NY Times Cooking recipe, like Skillet Spanakopita or Korean Fire Chicken, but the day got away from us and there was no time to go to the store. I rummaged around the kitchen and found a pork tenderloin in the freezer and some carrots and sweet potatoes that beckoned me. My step mother-in-law’s kitchen is well-stocked, so of course there was tahini. Once again I slathered the carrots, accompanied by their sweet potato brethren, in tahini and honey, with a sprinkle of crunchy salt and some red pepper flakes. This time, I was careful not to overcook them.
Reader, he loved them.
A few days later, I rode the Michigan flyer from Lansing to the Detroit airport and on the flight home watched the movie The Way, about a father’s pilgrimage to walk the Camino de Santiago after the death of his son — a study of vulnerability if ever there was one.
Then, I turned my attention to myself.
The MRI was exhausting and I had a surprise allergic reaction to the treatment the next day. They plied me with steroids and Benadryl, just like during my bygone chemo sessions, and, though they were necessary, I hated the way these drugs made me feel. How grateful I was for the warm blankets the oncology nurses covered me with and the leftover chicken chanterelle pot pie I’d had the foresight to put in the freezer before our trip.
After my trip to Florida last year, I wrote about the invisible threads that bind us, something it is easy to lose sight of when we are fighting about politics.
But vulnerability is universal, and we can all use a warm blanket or a comforting meal from time to time. I’m hoping we can find our way back to remembering that.
The last of the three cookbooks I promised myself arrived today - a gift from my sister-in-law - and it couldn’t have come at a better time.
The Best Thing I Cooked This Week (and Last Week)
You know me. I love a good cookbook. But sometimes all you need is love.
Tahini-Honey Roasted Carrots
Peel and slice carrots (I like rounds best, but matchsticks work too). Add sweet potatoes if you feel like it; no need to peel them. Put in a roasting dish and drizzle with tahini and honey (start with a tablespoon of each), making sure the veggies are well-coated but not overwhelmed. Season with crunchy sea salt and red pepper flakes if you like heat. Cook at 425 degrees for around 20 minutes, checking to make sure they are not burning. If so, turn the heat down and cover, if necessary. Cook until the carrots are al dente.
Here’s my money quote from your piece: “But vulnerability is universal, and we can all use a warm blanket or a comforting meal from time to time.”
This is a truth universally acknowledged. (Interesting to note that once I typed the word “truth,” Siri suggested “universally acknowledged”. Is AI getting smarter or simply better read?)
I’m her stepmother in law and the very grateful recipient of Alison’s carrots and sweet potatoes and tahini and honey dish. Those carrots had been waiting for her for at least a month! Made no difference. And the fact that she and J and their inspired menus were here in Spartan Michigan, well that’s a comfort blanket of another kind!