SEATTLE _ Out here in Seattle, we're just washing our hands down to nubs, Googling "can drinking alcohol kill coronavirus" (answer: sadly, no, but can help with nerves), definitely never touching our faces again and encasing all older relatives inside protective bubbles for the foreseeable future. Business at restaurants is suffering in a way that's getting dire quickly, yet among all the talk of "social distancing," a collective end-of-days bacchanal spirit may still be readily found. "HAVE A NICE COLD PINT AND WAIT FOR ALL THIS TO BLOW OVER" suggested the sandwich board outside my neighborhood favorite Bait Shop last Friday night, and the place was standing-room-only packed with a loud, festive, low-risk-category crowd doing exactly that.
The citizenry's panic-grocery-shopping seems to have subsided, the ransacked shelves all restocked. Still, with parts of the city ghost-town quiet and the news just getting worse, the anxiety gnaws. At its root, it's a real terror: Will this be the end of the world as we know it? In times of deep uncertainty, our thoughts turn to our stomachs: Food is comfort we can engulf, and instinct tells even urban types to lay in some supplies.
A project that occupies the hands and the mind, taking plenty of time and bearing the result of lots of very delicious food _ enough to eat now and also freeze for whatever the hell the future might bring _ seems like a bright idea for one of these awfully strange days or nights. Two excellent Seattle chefs were kind enough to provide us with recipes for constructive distraction. Keep calm _ soup's on.
