Some Jams to Start Your Summer Off with a Fancy Leg Kick Dance Move

Summer is here and life has been full of good stuff. Setting up the garden, walks, water tables, grilling, wearing shorts, brunches, sunshine, cold beers on the porch, fireflies, little O pulling her wagon around and filling it with sticks and rocks. The list goes on.

One of my favorite things about summer is the music. I’ve made playlists for almost every summer for a very long time. I love putting on an old summer playlist —it brings back beautiful, sensory moments of that year’s summer. It doesn’t matter if it was an awful summer or a great one — the memories of driving down a dirt road, or watching a beach sunset, or falling asleep on a cross-country plane ride stick with me the most.

M and I are collaborating on this summer’s playlist. My contributions so far are only two songs but the summer is young.

Here are a couple of my favorites this year (so far) and a few from years past.

Blame Brett — The Beaches

Two years before the pandemic hit, M scored tickets to see Pearl Jam. In the pit. In Seattle. At T-Mobile Park where the Mariners play (it was called Safeco Park at the time). We decided to go at the last minute. We bought our plane tickets and booked our hotel the night before our departure day, I somehow managed to find someone to cover my shifts at the bakery, and off we went to Seattle for a 36-hour visit. Our hotel had Ricky Gervais pillows (as in, the pillows were screen printed with his image) and a hipster happy hour. We had fresh sushi and tingly soup, we stood in line to get special PJ Seattle show merch (IYKYK), and we got to T-Mobile Park early so we could get good spots in the pit, which means we spent about 2 hours standing/sitting in one general area.

Pearl Jam fans are maybe the nicest fans on the planet (aside from Toad the Wet Sprocket fans), so we ended up getting to know Ray and Lisa. They had kids who were teenagers, and you could tell that they were like, legitimately, a cool mom and dad. I remember two things specifically about them — Lisa was a pro at simultaneously saving spots in the pit and moving all of us further toward the stage. Lisa also recommended The Beaches to us.

M and I talk about Ray and Lisa every now and then — how cool they were, how fun that trip was, how epic that show was (we almost touched Eddie Vedder). The Beaches are awesome, and I still think of Ray and Lisa and that entire whirlwind trip when I listen to them.

Dance (Our Own Party) - The Busker

We were introduced to The Busker, Malta’s version of Chromeo, while watching the Eurovision semi-finals on Mother’s Day while M cooked up a delish eggplant parmesan for dinner. We’re here for the saxophone and the writing on the hands, and the thing about sweaters, and the countless opportunities to work a well-timed kick into your dance. Personally, I think it’s bullshit that they didn’t make it to the finals, and that’s what I have to say about that.

Want You Back - Haim

I recently introduced O to Haim (anything to stop her from asking for Happy by Pharrell for the 400th time in a day), and she was transfixed by this video. I don’t blame her. This song is the absolute best and so is the video. Revive it for your own summer playlist. You’re welcome.

Little Bit More - Jidenna

One summer night out with my dear friend Breon, we split a watermelon salad appetizer that we still talk about to this day. It was dainty pieces of watermelon topped with feta cheese and mint and maybe a couple other things that all came together in a flavor symphony of salty and sweet and juicy and savory. My mouth is watering thinking about it.

Oh, and then we saw Jidenna that night. He was pretty great, too.

Everything Is Embarrassing - Sky Ferreira

There used to be this awesome website called Songza that had incredible playlists. Their 90s Club Bangers mix was what I put on to get shit done at work (I can’t count how many times my boss caught me whisper-rapping, and to her credit, she was unflappable and never seemed surprised ). Their New Goth playlist is unmatched in my house to this day. It was on one of these playlists that I came across Sky Ferreira and this jam that I loved so much, I downloaded it (!!!) and burned it to a CD (!!!!!!!) to play in our beloved and ancient little Toyota Camry on our various summer excursions around town.

Volcanic Love - The Aces

I don’t have a ton to say about this song except that I played it a million times the summer I found it, and love that the video is a spoof of Heathers.

Bonus: Put the Hurt On Me - Midland

Now, I know you’re saying, “Excuse me, you’ve put a country song on this list, I think you’ve made a mistake.” Hear me out. Do you need a karaoke song? This would probably be a great one (or maybe not). Do you need a song to play to wind your night down with a slow dance with your boo? This could be it. I just…love this song and I like this band a lot. They’re goofy and retro, and there’s just a lot to love once you start listening. (After you give this song a chance, check out Drinkin’ Problem and Mr. Lonely. If you want. If you’re curious. *shrugs* Do whatever you want, I don’t care.)

I’ll stop here. If you’re inspired, I’d love to know your favorite summer jam(s). I’ll be back next week, and I might talk about something called a cherry yum-yum. Or I might talk about something else. We’ll see!

Dancing While Cooking: A Kitchen Dance Party Playlist

So…I’ve been thinking about reviving Friday Bites for a solid month now, but does that mean I’ve planned or prepared to actually start it? No. Have I been cooking? Absolutely. Have I been documenting my efforts step-by-step? Not really. I’ve fallen out of the habits of documenting my cooking and baking adventures — taking photos, jotting down notes, etc.

Taking a break from Friday Bites for the past year or so has given me the experience of being present with my cooking and baking. It’s allowed me to take a step back and see how much I’ve learned over the years from cooking/baking while writing Friday Bites. It’s allowed me to recognize that I don’t need to follow recipes to the letter anymore, that I am honing more accurate instincts and gut feelings about food. It’s felt really good.

What I’m excited to think more about these days, along with the process of cooking/baking, is what happens alongside the food. The days we decide to dance while we prep our ingredients, or the nights we decide to belt out Britney Spears songs while we broth and stir our risotto in perfectly timed increments, or the times when we put on a podcast or try to catch up on The Bachelor while we try out a new recipe, or the days when silence is the only thing we want to hear. I’m excited to think about the food “studying” I’ve embarked on in the past year, and food genealogies and food memories and histories and stories, and making family recipes and honing my own dishes (!!!).

So anyway, that’s a very clunky way to tell you that this week, I’m going to come clean about what Spotify says I’ve been listening to the most while I’ve been away from Friday Bites, and I’ve spent a lot of that time listening to music while cooking. Also, January 2020 has felt 6 months long. Every time I log onto twitter dot com, I want to scream and rip my hair out while also rolling my eyes all the way back into my head and muttering, “Jesus fucking Christ.” I have to take a break from even my news podcasts because…well, you know why. I think we all need a dance break.

#10 - Sorry Not Sorry - Demi Lovato

As usual, I’m several years late to this party, and I honestly don’t care. This song is SO good. I have a Fuck ‘Em Up playlist that I’ve been adding to since 2008, and this is the latest addition. Do you need to an extra shot of ‘tude before you head in to a meeting where you’re going to have to do some stuff that gives you anxiety? Are you doubting a decision you made or are about to make? Do you just need to shake some shit off at the end of the day? Listen to this song. It will give you superpowers.


#9 - Cross Me - Ed Sheeran feat Chance The Rapper & PnB Rock

So look. Ed Sheeran is…Ed Sheeran. I feel like if you really love music, you won’t be afraid of a good pop song. Ed Sheeran is good at pop songs, and I love this one in particular because the speaker tells us that if “you cross her, then you cross me.” If you fuck with my girl, I’m going to fuck with you. I think it’s the pop love song we all need right now. And I’m not ashamed to say that it’s come in the form of Ed Sheeran.


#8 - Please Me - Cardi B. and Bruno Mars

Speaking of good pop songs, everything Bruno Mars touches turns to gold. And everything he touches with Cardi B turns into a glorious glowing ball of sweat and sex and ‘90s throwback vibes. Come for the jams, stay for the iconic Cardi B lines. You know the one I’m talking about.


#7 - Slow It Down - Charlie Puth

In 2016, Charlie Puth came out with the worst song I’ve ever heard in my life. It was called “Marvin Gaye,” and he did it with Meghan Trainor, and it was the most atrocious and sacrilegious thing I’ve heard in recent memory. The first and only time I heard it, I was still working in an office, and I fully stopped what I was working on to research the song and make sure that I never heard it again.

In 2018, Switched on Pop, one of my all-time favorite podcasts, analyzed a Charlie Puth song from his 2018 album, Voicenotes. It was a decent song, so I reluctantly dove into the album. It turns out that Charlie Puth can write a good fucking pop album when he’s not churning out garbage like “Marvin Gaye.”


#6 - The Way I Am - Charlie Puth

Even though Charlie Puth has a babyface and it feels like he’s constantly trying to look and act older, I do really love this song. You can go ahead and put this on the Fuck ‘Em Up playlist alongside Demi Lovato.


#5 - The Distance - Mariah Carey

I’ve loved Mariah since I could consciously love music. I had Daydream on cassette and I literally carried it around with me everywhere, just in case I had an opportunity to play it somewhere. I haven’t listened to a full Mariah Carey album after The Emancipation of Mimi, but I still love her and I love this song. (P.S. If you’re making a playlist of solid love songs, you can throw this one on there along side the Ed Sheeran song.)


#4 - Empty Cups - Charlie Puth

So here’s where I think Spotify is lying about my most-listened to tunes of the past year. I know there’s an algorithm and numbers don’t lie, but…three (3) whole Charlie Puth songs? I can think of at least 5 other songs that I’m pretty sure I’ve listened to more than these three (3) Charlie Puth songs. I thought about subbing out this one for an Ariana Grande song that I’m nearly positive I’ve listened to more, but in the interest of shining the light on guilt and shame, I GUESS I’VE LISTENED TO CHARLIE PUTH THIS MUCH.


#3 - Look What God Gave Her - Thomas Rhett

Spotify told me that I listened to like, 20 hours of Thomas Rhett’s music in 2019????? I also think that’s a lie, but here we are. For those of you who are not fans of country pop (I don’t blame you), Thomas Rhett is a baby-faced Georgia boy who writes pretty catchy pop songs and has some pretty terrible dance moves that will give you second-hand embarrassment for him. There are other songs of his that I’m pretty sure I’ve listened to more, but Spotify doesn’t think so.


#2 - Emotion - Carly Rae Jepsen

I’ve fallen in actual love with Carly Rae Jepsen over the past year and a half, thanks to my baker pals. I read a tweet some time ago (I can’t remember who said it, otherwise I’d give credit) that said Carly Rae Jepsen makes music for 30-somethings who were in fucked-up relationships in their teens/20s, and are now figuring out what good, healthy love looks and feels and sounds like. AMEN.

(Also, Hanif Abdurraqib wrote an amazing essay on Carly Rae Jepsen’s music. You can find it in his book of essays, They Can’t Kill Us Until They Kill Us. Highly recommend.)


#1 - Juice - Lizzo
If Spotify had told me anything different, I would have deleted my account. Honestly. I have loved Lizzo for a long time and I’m so happy that she has blown up over the past year. I don’t know if we deserve her, but we need her so much right now.

So, there it is. What I’ve apparently been bopping around to in my kitchen over the past 12 months. I hope you’ve found something new to dance around to, and I hope it’s gotten you excited about your own faves. And because I’m curious and always on the hunt for new music — dear reader, what are your favorite songs to dance around and cook to? Tell me! No guilt, no shame, no judgement. I really want to know. Tell me in the comment box below, tell me in a comment on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter. Shoot me a DM, whatevs. Let’s dance and cook together.

On Comfort: Chicken Soup, Chocolate Cake, and Ani

This week has been full of paradox: sunshine and non-stop rain, feeling stuck while also feeling propelled forward, feeling exhausted and also feeling energized, weather warm enough to not need a jacket and needing a jacket, enjoying my favorite feminist musician and being annoyed by the douchy white guy behind me. Instead of getting frustrated, I’ve been trying to accept the contradictions. Embrace all the things that are opposite but true at the same time.

I did double duty and frontloaded my week by making two things in one night. Who am I?!

***
The craving for something brothy and healthy struck again. M requested a chicken soup of some kind, so I pulled out an oldie but goodie: Immunity Soup from the January 2017 issue of Cooking Light. (I was actually looking for a spring vegetable chicken soup, but had to settle for this one this time around.) Indeed, another soup that purports to boost your immunity. It certainly can't hurt.

When the weather is 70 degrees one day, and cold enough to snow the next day, it feels like my body is constantly trying to find its bearings. Am I warm? Am I cold? Do I need to wear 4 layers and wool socks today or can I show off this cat print short-sleeve shirt I just got? Am I feverish or is it allergies? Am I achy from sickness or am I sore from yoga? It’s impossible to tell these days.

***
This soup starts out with your favorite soup base layers: a tablespoon or two of oil heated in a Dutch oven (or heavy-bottomed pot), then diced onion, sliced carrots and celery tossed in. I used olive oil, but you might use whatever you’ve got — vegetable oil, canola oil, whatever. The sizzle of the veggies as they hit that oil is so satisfying, along with that continual sizzle as they cook gently, getting soft and releasing their juices (*insert a sly Nigella look here*) into the pot.

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As I chopped and diced and minced the veggies, I decided to turn on some of my favorite Ani DiFranco tunes. Ani has been a part of my life since I was 16 or 17. I don’t actually know how many times I’ve seen her live. Her music has been formative for me in so many ways — politically, emotionally, artistically, interpersonally, worldview-ally. Her music was friend to me through hard times, and was, at times, one of the few things to get me through whatever darkness I was in.

***
Next comes the pound of sliced mushrooms (I got pre-sliced ones this time around, though I usually don’t mind buying a pound or so of them in bulk and washing/drying/slicing them myself) and 10 entire cloves of garlic, minced. I may have thrown in an extra 2 or 3 cloves because however much garlic a recipe calls for, it usually isn’t enough for me.

Toss these into the pot, and let the mushrooms release their moisture. Savor that sharp smell of the garlic and let it fill your kitchen. I mean, you don’t really have a choice.

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I sang along to every single Ani song that came into my kitchen that afternoon, though I haven’t listened to many of them for years. I haven’t forgotten the airiness of Both Hands or the clipped turns of Swan Dive and those lines about pulling out your tampon and splashing around in shark-infested waters. The ambitious moodiness of Gravel (“I stood out on the porch, thinking ‘Fight, fight, fight at all costs’/ Instead, I let you in, just like I’ve always done/ and I sat you down/ and offered you a beer” and “Maybe you can keep me from being happy/but you’re not going to stop me from having fun”). The raw anger and anguish of Dilate.

***
Next come the chickpeas, the broth, the thyme, and the bay leaves. Stir, and bring it all to a boil. Once it begins to boil, throw in two pounds of uncooked chicken breast, along with some salt and crushed red pepper flakes. Turn the heat down, cover and simmer for about 35 minutes.

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The very first time I saw Ani perform live, I burst into tears as soon as she stepped onto stage. The song she started that show with was “Shy.” I started crying and didn’t stop until 20 or 30 minutes later. The sobbing was uncontrollable; I didn’t know it was coming and when it came, it hit me like freight train.

That trend would continue every time I saw Ani, and it seemed that she always opened with a song that was particularly meaningful for me in the moment.

***
As I started making the frosting for Nigella’s Dark and Sumptuous Chocolate Cake, I could feel the sobs building in my chest as I sang along to Fire Door. I still knew every word and belted them out along with her as I combined water, espresso powder, cocoa, brown sugar, and butter in a saucepan, heated, and stirred.

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These songs felt like a homecoming. They felt like being able to finally breathe big and full in a completely safe space.

***
And then something happened. It occurred to me, as I was mixing the dry ingredients for the cake and checking on the soup, that I was a different person listening to these songs. The songs that got me through my adolescence and early and mid-twenties were still gorgeous and clever and everything that I remembered them to be — but I understood each song differently. I was hearing each song through ears of wisdom? Experience? Through a body and mind and heart that had finally found dry land after weathering storm after storm in a shitty, disintegrating lifeboat? I related to each song completely differently. It’s like… looking back and realizing that when I was in my teens and twenties, I thought I knew what Ani was talking about. And now, in my early 30s, I see that I actually didn’t know shit back then, but I do now.

I guess that’s just part of being a human. Growing up. Maturing.

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***
The Ani concert was the centerpiece of my week. Everything revolved around it. I braced myself for the tears and the swells of emotion.

I was excited, for sure. But this time around, the sobs stayed put wherever they were hiding out. Ani opened with Names and Dates and Times, a song that I actually don't know all the words to (*gasp*). She played Napoleon and Shameless and Anticipate and To The Teeth and Hypnotized and My I.Q. and Not a Pretty Girl. She played a lot of newer stuff that I didn’t know.

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The crowd was also different from any other Ani show I’ve been to. The Ani shows I’ve been to have been attended by mostly women and women-identified people. Dudes in the audience have been few and far between. In between songs, people shout things at her, like, “We love you, Ani!” The audience usually sings along so loudly that she has to stop at least once and tell everyone to stop so she can hear herself play.

At this show, some things were the same. Audience members kept yelling “We love you, Ani!” People recited My I.Q. along with her so loudly that she had to stop in the middle and say, “Oh, honey, you have to let me do this one.”

But a lot of things were different. Someone yelled, “I love you, Annie!” (Ani responded, “It’s Ah-ni, but thank you, I feel the love anyway.”) Men were everywhere. A drunk-off-his-ass douchebag know-it-all guy sat behind us and talked loudly over Gracie and Rachel, the opening act, and then continued his tone-deaf, useless commentary during Ani’s performance. When Ani sang, “I’m gonna take all my friends/ and I'm gonna move to Canada/ and we’re gonna die of old age,” he shouted, “Yeah! Let’s go!” (I stopped myself from turning around and saying, “You’re not invited, bro.”) Some people got up to leave immediately after Ani finished the main set, not realizing there’s a thing called an encore because you should and will never get enough of being in the same room with her.  

***
After the show, I stopped by the merch table to buy a t-shirt. When I made my way through the crowd, made eye contact with the merch table person and bought my shirt, I had apparently “cut” in front of a group of (white) women. After we left, M told me about all the passive aggressive shade they had thrown in my direction while I was buying my shirt.

One woman had said, “WELL. You know what happens when you ASSUME…”

Yes. I do know what happens. I get to buy my Ani t-shirt before you.

(Also: like, please. There are no lines at merch tables. You see your opening, you get in there and buy your shirt before they sell out of your size. It’s not hard. How many times in my 32 years have I waited politely for everyone to go before me, and when I finally get to the front, the t-shirt I want is sold out of my size. Sorry, not sorry. Get yours. I'm gettin' mine. Like Ani says in 32 Flavors, "I'm not between you and your ambition." What a metaphor/analogy this shit is in so many ways.)

***
After the soup simmers, covered, for about 30-35 minutes, you place the chicken on a cutting board, shred it, and dump it back into the pot. You take a bunch of kale, rip it into smaller pieces and stir it into the soup. You let it all simmer for another 5 minutes or so. It’s done when that kale is wilted just a little bit.

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***
Now, this cake. Nigella’s instructions tell you to make the frosting first because it needs time to cool. She says that the time it takes to make the cake, bake it, and let it cool, is the perfect amount of time to let the frosting cool. I’ll be honest — I had my doubts. When I couldn’t wait any longer to finish the cake, I took a look at the frosting and shook my head. “Nigella, I don’t know about this. This frosting seems a little stiff.” But I gave it a stir and poured it over the cake.

It was perfect.

On Nigella’s instruction, I joyously decorated with chopped pistachios. No edible rose petals or edible flowers even, but just the pistachios were perfect.

(Baking notes: Nigella's recipe is vegan -- she uses coconut butter and coconut oil. I, however, love regular butter too much to go vegan, so I used regular unsalted butter and canola oil for this recipe, and it turned out just as dreamy.)

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***
This week seems to have been all about comfort — the food and music of it. Chicken soup, chocolate cake, Ani. They all came as I remembered them, but with twists. Chicken soup with mushrooms, chickpeas, and chili pepper flakes. Chocolate cake with espresso and salty, savory pistachios on top. Ani with the same good songs (as well as new ones), a wiser me, and a weirder crowd.  

It’s good to go home. To bring your older, wiser self there. To love the same things, and to love how they’ve changed. To love the same things, and love them differently.

Ani sings in Good, Bad, Ugly, "Strangers are exciting/ Their mystery never ends/ But there's nothing like looking at your own history/ in the faces of your friends." It feels a little bit like that, but...different.

***
I'll end this week's Friday Bites with some vintage Ani. Happy eating, happy cooking, happy being, y'all. 

This week's recipes: