Good evening.
There are no good bagels in Napa. I said it. Everyone knows San Francisco makes the best sourdough, but we can’t do bagels and pizza like the East Coast and Midwest.
In a sad moment of desperation, I found myself DoorDashing half a dozen bagels from Panera. The subject of Panera came up on my girls trip weeks ago. We were reminiscing about the broccoli cheddar bread bowls and the muffins that were “only the top” we ate during high school in the mid 2000s. We lamented that Panera recipes had since taken a turn, now resembling glorified hospital food. Knowing full well what a disappointment it would be, nostalgia still got the best of me. “How bad can their bagels be?” I thought. Truthfully, the cream cheese was the worst part. Flavorless and with the texture of a grainy paste, the ~tub~ of it didn’t even pretend it was the real deal — labeled as a cream cheese ““spread,”” whatever that means.
Feeling sheepish about romanticizing a fast-casual baked good, I couldn’t seem to shake the intoxicating pull of nostalgia this week.
What I thought about this week
In addition to the Panera debacle, I also watched the documentary The Last Blockbuster — a piece about the single remaining Blockbuster Video store in the world.
Although the quality of the documentary is hit-and-miss — often skipping from subject to subject haphazardly — I found myself instantly sucked into the feeling of being back between the video-lined walls, surrounded by the smell of carpet and plastic. Going to a store to rent a movie suddenly sounded like the most fun imaginable. The memories came flooding back: it was an activity baked into the core of my childhood. Every Sunday, my parents and I had “movie, popcorn, and pizza night.” It was tradition. We were so dedicated to Blockbuster, as a family, we signed up for their mail service when it came out. Remember the original Netflix? That mailed DVDs to your house (LOL)? We had Blockbuster’s knock-off version of that. We were hardcore fans.
I never felt, at once, so charmed but also so old. I was having a real “back in my day” moment, like I was talking about a phonograph or a telegram. After viewing the documentary, I couldn’t help but assume “nostalgia googles” — suddenly everything I viewed seemed tied, in someway, to the past. I was bombarded at every turn: Oscar brought home Trix Cereal; the radio was playing Kid Cudi’s, The Pursuit of Happiness, while I drove to work in the same car I drove to high school in; Seth Rogan’s marijuana brand, Houseplant, debuted a throwback “car lighter” inspired by the 1950s; the internet exploded with Millennial vs. Gen-Z drama about the 90s (which I find endlessly tiresome); everyone was talking about Britany Spears and the “Free Britany” movement, the years start coming and they don’t stop coming… and now I’m just quoting Smash Mouth’s hit song, All Star.
I became consumed; obsessed; I WAS IN OVER MY HEAD.
But why did it feel so good?
The past seems nice, predictable, and safe, but most importantly: it’s uncomplicated. With time, details are lost and memories become smooth and flattened. In a year that presented unimaginable problems, the sweet escape of a Blockbuster video store seems incredibly quaint. I found myself replaying 90’s jams like an addict who needed another hit of N-Sync to get through the day.
Then I read an article that turned my trip down memory lane on it’s head: What Will Pandemic Nostalgia Feel Like? in The Atlantic. Nostalgia for the pandemic? In this economy? I was trying to escape the pandemic through nostalgia for another time. The realization that in the future, we may find ourselves missing things like pandemic walks and extra time at home was something I’d failed to consider. It slowly shattered the illusion of “the good old days” I had so recently been pining for; there are certainly parts of “the old normal” for which I am not especially thrilled to return. I got a prickly, nervous feeling.
Nostalgia is an easy trap to get lured into, but lingering too long distorts the past and the present simultaneously. Maybe it’s not fair to say one is always better than the other.
If Panera corporate is reading this, however: please bring back the Sierra Turkey Sandwich. We miss it.
What I drank this week
Domaine Rolet, Arbois Poulsard ‘Vielles Vignes,’ Jura, France 2018
I asked Oscar, “where did you get this, it’s really good?” to which he said, “…..uh, you’re the one who got it!” Turns out I think I have really good taste, who knew?! Coming from a frequently featured region, the Jura (France), this wine was fun enough for a dinner party, but serious enough for your guests to compliment it. The grape is Poulsard (weird grape alert!) grown on old vines, and aged in a foudre — a giant barrel… like, we’re talking really big, here is one for reference:
Moving on. The wine tasted like spiced cherries and clay. The farming is practicing organic, and meticulously focused. We shared the wine with a friend, and by the end of the bottle we were all feeling as happy as that little baby in a cowboy hat.
A Double Daiquiri
This simple cocktail is inspired by one of the drinks on the opening menu at Roister, served in the original glassware (CB2’s Marta Old Fashioned Glasses). We easily broke hundreds of these glasses during my time working there, and would make undercover runs to CB2 to buy more before anyone found out (when I left, they gave me a set as a parting gift). It’s a super classic daiquiri, but I used light rum instead of aged rum this time. Here’s the recipe:
3oz rum
2oz lime juice
1oz simple syrup
Shake over ice, and serve.
Recommended to drink on a hot day.
What I liked this week
The Suez canal memes, which made me feel weirdly better about my writer’s block. At least it wasn’t the only thing blocked this week. There’s a joke or a metaphor in there somewhere.
This NYT Cooking recipe for Leek Risotto with Sugar Snap Peas and Pancetta, which we’ve made 3 times now.
Although I was devastated by actress Jessica Walter’s death, I loved all the Lucille Bluth quotes floating around the internet. RIP.
The article, How Billionaires See Themselves, for Current Affairs which is equal parts brilliant and infuriating. I’ve already quoted it in conversation, which is my gauge that it’s worth the read.
I can’t! Stop? Laughing? At this picture:
This hot fashion take: everything is a purse. Watch here.
Thank you for reading, and for your patience with me this week! I am so grateful you have found your way to the end of another newsletter. This was, for real, maybe my favorite one to write yet. Obligatory buttons:
Cheers,
Kate
“Nostalgia for the pandemic? In this economy?” I fr laughed out loud 😂
That sierra turkey sammy tho. So good.