Just Do One Nice Thing

It’s been an incredibly strange week. Massachusetts lost its Covid restrictions, Provincetown lost a legend, one of our cherished pod members moved back to the big city, another traveled halfway across the world for affordable healthcare, a dear friend returned to a beloved restaurant with a new menu, and Cape Cod’s first busy weekend of the summer was utterly demolished by rain. It’s hard to imagine that all of those things could have been contained within a single week, but our sense of time and how much it can hold is going to be warped for some months to come, I think. 

There are, as ever in this ghoulish world, a long list of the ways we can be terrible to one other. I could go on about them for hours — and honestly, you know I will at some point — but I’m awfully tired, so I’d rather talk about being kind (with the one exception being that everyone who contributed to Naomi Osaka withdrawing from the French Open can truly kiss my ass — I care not much for professional sports, but goddamn, can you all please stop telling Black women to shut up and work?). 

Small kindnesses are so easy that we sometimes forget we can even do them. It usually requires just a quick review of what you have, what you can share, and who needs help or love. Sometimes it’s just kind words, a lot of times (in my case) it’s food, occasionally it’s a tiny gift for no reason. 

I feel absurdly lucky to be around people who think the same way. This week alone, friends have made dinner, donated a Super Nintendo, offered to deliver treats when I was emotionally exhausted, forced me to watch Moana for the first time, and texted just to say it feels good to know each other. Sometimes doing one of these things feels silly, but we have to find a way to combat the absurd awfulness we’re confronted with so daily.

In the last few weeks, I got three personalized notebooks for three of my favorite people — for schemes, quilting potions, and thesis brainstorming, respectively. I tucked a tub of pimento cheese and some chips into a bag of necessary borrowed kitchen staples for our friends re-opening their restaurant down the street. I thanked people all day long for doing their jobs — both at Pop+Dutch and elsewhere. Whoever said you’re not supposed to do that is a fucking asshole. Sometimes, I send Flynn a bottle of champagne in New York without warning. And when someone asks you to make shrimp cocktail for their going away party — especially when you love them — you do it. It’s easy, and you’ll feel better afterwards. And so will they.

Just do one nice thing. Then you’ll want to do another one. And so will they.

Easy Fancy Shrimp CocktailEveryone loves this, but most people never think to make it. It makes a backyard cookout feel like pure luxury, and your friends feel pampered. The only thing you can’t do is overcook the shrimp.

2 lbs. wild-caught shrimp, peeled and deveined1 lemon, sliced4 garlic cloves, smashed4 bay leaves1/4 c. Old Bay

Cocktail Sauce:1 c. ketchup2 Tbsp. horseradishjuice of one lemona few dashes Tabasco sauce

Bring 2 quarts of water to a boil with the sliced lemon, smashed garlic cloves, bay leaves and Old Bay. Let it cook down for about 5 minutes, so all the flavor gets into the water. Add the shrimp, give them a stir, and turn off the heat. Let the shrimp steep in the broth for only a minute or two, until they’re curled and pink. That’s it, seriously. Remove them from the pot to a serving platter.

Combine all sauce ingredients and season to taste. Chill everything for an hour before you serve it. Feel fancy. Let people know you love them.

You’re reading “Soup and Despair,” a weekly newsletter by Sarah Flynn and Rebecca Orchant. It’s about food, feelings, and surviving the dark times. If someone forwarded you this email, it’s because they love you and they want you to eat. You can subscribe to it too!