Cooking

When this pandemic is over, I am never cooking again.

Ever.

All of my meals will be carry-out, delivery, eaten in a restaurant, or leftovers. 

I made this realization a few weeks ago when I had carry-out oysters and salad from Seatown, a Tom Douglas restaurant. Tom Douglas is a major Seattle restauranteur who immediately closed his eight restaurants last March at the first whiff of the coronavirus. In the past few weeks, he re-opened Seatown for carry-out. My oysters were personally shucked by Tom Douglas himself. He was standing outside at the oyster bar, shucking away last Saturday afternoon.

Why should I cook if Tom Douglas can do a better job than I can? The salad was way more interesting than anything I would make. This week, I went to Seatown and had coconut fried shrimp over a green mango salad. 

I could make a fancy salad, but I'd have to buy $35 of ingredients that would spoil before I could eat it all. And it would take me a while to make it. Plus, I'd have to think of the idea of making a green mango salad, which, like, I would never do.

Here is a comparison: I don't make my own clothes. Someone else makes the clothes, and then I go to the store and buy a sweater or skirt or whatnot. Why should I cook my own food? It is easier and better to have someone else do it.

This is, of course, assuming I can afford eating out all of the time, and not getting super fat or unhealthy. Unlike a sweater which I can wear for ten years, I would need to get new meals three times a day. That would be an unpleasant drag on the bank account. But hey--that is why god invented money.

Maybe there is a cheaper, middle ground where I won't go broke eating out...which brings me to the mail I get advertising fresh meals delivered:

The algorithms of direct mail know who I don't want to cook but I want to eat. They are guessing I like interesting food but don't have the bandwidth or desire to make it.