Why hello there, and welcome back to Kitchen Catastrophes. Today’s post…look, I’m not going to lie. I had nothing. It’s one of the most frustrating positions to find yourself in for a gig like this, and it’s kind of my own fault: Because of a “backstage” reschedule, pushing what was GOING to be this week’s post to next week, I didn’t have a through-line for the week. So maybe this will be interesting, maybe not. But it’s the best I have. So today, we’re going much more “blog-y”: there’s not going to be a TON of information or insight that isn’t directly about me. I’ll try and make it at least somewhat interesting, but if it’s not your bag, I get it, we’ll talk next week when we’re doing something a little more on-brand.

A Mystery of History

When I say “I had nothing”, I should clarify that said statement actually comes from a place of respect: I had several things I COULD do, but felt that I couldn’t do any of them WELL. It was brought to my attention that July is actually national Ice Cream month, so I could write a history of Ice Cream. But…fun fact, the history of Ice Cream is COMPLICATED. There’s a lot of bullshit with no sources that are just mixed in with real facts, like early Chinese ice cream was made with Camphor, a chemical that apparently tastes kind of like Menthol and Pine, which is…not a flavor I really associate with desserts, but maybe something is being lost in translation.

I suppose plenty of people like Mint ice cream, so “super mint” isn’t impossible.

Similarly, I could have decided to do an LAP for Spain today, branching off of last week’s posts, or returned to a Meandering America’s Menus (a series I keep thinking I’ve done fairly recently, and keep being shocked to discover I haven’t covered in a year…and then I remember that the system I’ve been using says CALIFORNIA should be next, and I go “oh, yeah, fuck, I do not have time to unpack the culinary history of California this week.”) or even another Culinary Compendium, but between lack of research time, or a feeling that I’d be “double-dipping”, none of them felt right. Frustratingly, I learned Wednesday night that Netflix uploaded a new season of Street Food last week, which if I had known that Monday, I’d have definitely watched and reviewed it for today.

So: if that’s a bunch of things we’re NOT talking about, what are we going to talk about today? Online shopping, children’s cartoons, and memories. Specifically, a questionable decision I made today, and the roots of it.

Did someone say we’re going to ramble about roots?

One thing that many of us who weren’t essential workers have ended up with is a lot of TIME to reflect on things, and consume various media. And since a lot of new stuff wasn’t really coming out at the start of all this, that meant, for a lot of the people I watch, discussions of older media. And with that comes surprising bursts of sense memory, wrapped up in nostalgia: someone was discussing the Land Before Time movies, and a song that came on EXPLODED in my mind with forgotten memories of SOMEONE singing it from my childhood. And you can see this digging into my thoughts with last week’s Tortilla post: the first quarter of it is ROOTED in reflections of my childhood, songs and films that I haven’t thought of in years. Some of it’s been fun, some of it…less so (reflections on missed opportunities, damaged relationships, lost friends and loved ones, etc.) And that made me feel nostalgic, and yearn for a way to repair some of what was lost. And I can’t turn back time. I can’t change what happened, who I’ve hurt, and the things I wish I said. But I can pay $9 for a can of soda.

Ummm. What?

Yeah, bit of a sudden turn, that. But I assure you, it’s connected. Two weeks ago, we talked about British culinary terms, and technically, that title is a little deceptive: a lot of those are COMMONWEALTH culinary terms, referring to the various former nations of the British Empire who still get along pretty okay (notably not including America).

Who knows why we’re not invited.
Fun fact: this is from the war we had with them AFTER the first one!

One of those was particularly nostalgia-triggering for me, because YEARS ago, just before entering High School at 14, I was a student Ambassador to Australia. It was a formative trip for me, from which I still have the journal I kept. Which is…something. Like, one of our counselors commended my writing ability, (which was actually a very nice thing that made me confident enough to do things like come up with this blog) but looking on it now…I feel like I must have been INSUFFERABLE. Here’s some of the entry for July 13th:

“So beautiful, yet so cold. Like a spring morning that still clings to winter.” Or a winter dawn in a land of eternal summer. Winter’s teeth sink in to a sunrise of molten gold. The bite is a gnat’s touch compared to the rugged beauty of this morning. Yet my lightening heart was soon burdened again. A warm welcome and fun stay are followed by a nearly painful farewell. We said goodbye to bush camp, and headed to Alice Springs.”

At least you know I come by it honestly, I guess. Gotta love that Two Towers reference at the start. That movie was like, 8 months old at that point.

And you thought that Treebeard reference earlier was just for the pun!
Also, why did I choose to frame myself as Wormtongue?

Anyway, while I was there, I became enamored with Austalian lemonade, to the point where I drank it I believe at EVERY meal it was available, and indeed attributed some of my weirder experiences with jet lag when I got home to going through withdrawal for the stuff.

It is a drink I remember quite fondly, and haven’t had in almost 17 years.

You can see where this is going.

Last night, in something of a nostalgic funk, and ordering some international snacks online anyway, (I found a place willing to sell Pickled Onion rings (a snack Nate loved from last month’s Universal Yums box) with free shipping, and said “that’s a deal I will not pass up” ) I decided to buy myself 4 cans of Solo Lemon soda. The cans themselves are actually only $2, it’s the SHIPPING from Australia to America that drags the cost up to (effectively) $9 a can. (And yes, math geeks, that means that it costs ~$28 to ship 4 sodas from Australia to Washington)

It is strange that such a little thing should inspire such tariffs and doubt.

Because I can’t turn back time, I can’t become a 14 year old kid again, nor a 24 year old college kid. I can’t change the choices I’ve made, some of which weigh on me. But I can re-listen to the songs, re-watch the cartoons, and I can order the soda, to see if it’s as good as I remember.

Not for a while, though: it’s like, 3-4 weeks of shipping.

It’s a small act of self-care, and the kind of kindness I hope we can all extend to ourselves, and those close to us.

Is this weirdly sentimental? Maybe I just get gooey when it gets over 90. That would explain the journal…

MONDAY: WE MAKE SIMPLE SLOPPY JOES WITH A SURPRISING SLAW, AND A FUNKY FLAVOR PROFILE

THURSDAY: FUCK IF I KNOW, DUDE.