Pandemic fatigue and the one year anniversary of lockdown

Pandemic Fatigue and the One Year Anniversary of Lockdown

"Deep, soul-level tired" is about all I could come up with when asked what the theme for my newsletter would be this week. It began with the photo notifications on my phone. You know, the ones that auto generate to remind you of what you were doing last year around this time. And what, exactly, was I doing last year around this time? Grabbing dinner with friends or jetting off to a fun vacation like in the before-times? Nope. Last year, give or take a few weeks, I was taking photos of my sourdough starter as if it were a first-born child and beauty shots of warm from the oven banana bread like she was walking down a runway.

"My word," I thought, "how sad that all was…oh wait, THAT IS STILL WHAT LIFE IS NOW." Sorry for yelling, but those photos of me making sourdough bread from week one of quarantine was just a gut punch. In pandemic time I was young, dumb, wide-eyed and bushy-tailed back then. Doing any DIY project I could get my hands on in the name of self-improvement. Remember that cute time we thought this would only last "a couple of weeks, three at most"? (I'll pause to let you finish laughing, and also crying, about that fact.)

Pandemic fatigue is what this is called. It's felt individually and it's felt on a collective level too. Add to that the sobering reality that so many, many people have lost lives, jobs, and homes during this pandemic. I count myself lucky that none of that has happened to me. I am grateful. Trust me and my stack of gratitude journals that I mean it when I say that. But what this pandemic has taught me is that you can be both grateful and tired. Grateful and longing to cook a meal for friends. Grateful and missing your family. Grateful and over it. These things can co-exist.

I am reflecting this week especially on the foods and drinks that personally got me through the past year of lockdown. Easy weeknight meals of kimchi fried rice, or my pantry pasta of choice, the iconic puttanesca, with a glass (or three) of red wine and a garlicky Caesar salad.

Work from home lunches have been a scoop from that big pot of lentil soup I always have on hand or a composed salad like the briny Nicoise made in a large batch all in one go on Sunday, and dipped into between Zoom meetings Monday through Friday. Happy hours of one have been a consistent rotation of gin and tonics, last words, or just some wine from whatever club o' the month I'm a member of now.

Then of course there were the nights spent crying salty tears into a chocolate mug cake (I mean, salted chocolate is a thing; really brings out the flavor). Or, stress baking a flourless chocolate cake or any other French confection, with old episodes of the Great British Baking Show streaming in the background. While the sourdough bread may have been a vanity project to keep up with a trend, this sourdough coffee cake is what I've actually kept coming back to again and again.

So, while I count myself lucky that through all of this I can afford to put food on my table, this pandemic still means that there isn't anyone sitting around my table. And that's sad. But it's also okay. Like absolutely everything else in life, this is not permanent. This too shall pass. And while I wait for it to pass, I'm going to whip up another negroni and rewatch Game of Thrones. Just like I did last year at this time.

- Kristin Stangl
Food Editor, The Spruce Eats