i’m going to virtually pat you down before i say what i’m about to say. i’ve never been that into halloween. i can count the costumes i even remember on one hand – and that’s for the entirety of my life thus far, not just the childhood standouts.
princess jasmine, a tree, a unicorn, a sheep. most recently i think i was 90s gwen stefani.
maybe it was all the performing growing up – costumes, to me, were hardly more novel than jeans. i once played cinderella in a children’s musical theater production. i was violet beauregarde in willy wonka. i was a “cyclone” in the wizard of oz. i was ado annie in oklahoma. i was the queen of hearts in alice in wonderland.
these are all characters i could have waited to become, until halloween granted me its generous annual permission. instead, i got to be them, had to be them, learned to be them, for months on end in rehearsals – my life was halloween.
i wore frills and heels for tap dances and tutus for ballet. i’ve been cut out of at least one corset to shorten a 30-second quick-change.
in no way could nor should this be construed as bragging. it’s merely a potential explanation for what i perceive to be a deficit in my character as a young-ish adult.
i hate scary movies; i’d rather be delighted than disturbed. i don’t like haunted houses unless i’m drunk or have a huge crush on the person walking through it in front of me.
why don’t i like halloween?
it’s not that i dislike it – i love witnessing the astronomical creativity of the population en masse. (you guys are so funny! not sarcastic.) i love the trick-or-treating tradition. i love eating chocolate shaped like pumpkins and bats.
i guess rather than disliking halloween i just feel like i should like it more, especially since this unenthusiastic opinion tends to personally offend my peers.
this year, as usual, i stayed home on halloween night. my roommate A and i had some friends over to watch movies and eat pumpkin cheesecake bars, assuming based on our house’s location in a walkable, family-friendly neighborhood that we’d be entertaining frenzied hordes of trick-or-treaters throughout the night.
on the contrary! our trick-or-treater total, between 4 and 9pm, came to a concerning five kids, and four of them were siblings or friends in the same group.
every time we saw the suggestion of a figure on the sidewalk, we’d all run to the door, yelling to put the joint out, shoving costumed folks to the foyer to represent our family. in seconds we’d learn (thrice) it was only another friend arriving, which of course meant their entrances were met with verbal disappointment.
is trick-or-treating dead? the harsh lack of turnout was by far the scariest thing i’d seen all season. disappointed in our inability to do one of the three actually-fun adult activities, D joked that the kids were trick-or-treating in VR this year. that was a really funny joke until we realized it could be true. at least they didn’t have to wear coats over their costumes!
“trick or treating isn’t what it used to be,” according to the atlantic. i actually didn’t read that article, due to the paywall, but assume it’s telling the truth based on the publication’s general credibility. as early at 2019, there were reports of dwindling trick-or-treaters from around the country, most families opting for “trunk or treat” events or community halloween gatherings.
i never thought i’d say a boomer thing, but i belong to a different generation. i went out in the dark with a pillowcase and traded candy with my friends until i had a sack full of reese’s cups. later in my childhood, we found out about sugar mill: the rich neighborhood giving out the king size candy bars. to this day, just thinking about it, i get a saccharine thrill, not the last time i’d feel the rush of scoring the 1%’s discards.
we’re getting to the age where we have to understand. we can’t assume these kids miss what they don’t know they never had. can we blame them for hanging out on the fringes of their imaginations? i want to halloween horror nights once and i cried (about a boy).
here are some things that scared me this october:
mass genocide in palestine
my skin’s horrifically bad reaction to a new prescription
the death of matthew perry in addition to his being ubiquitously referred to as “the guy from friends” posthumously
when i thought i saw a face in the window one night but it was just a weird shadow on a tree across the street
i am of the opinion that there are enough things to be afraid of in this world without dedicating an entire month to fear. i’m not making this a humanitarian crisis vs. halloween thing; i’m just not looking for any additional sources of anxiety at the moment.
my favorite part about halloween, i think, is the opportunity to call back, via costume, any number of niche, socio-historically influential, weren’t-funny-at-the-time-but-are-hilarious-now memes and pop culture moments. the vaults of our modern minds are cavernous and deep, echoing through them the nostalgic, once-forgotten melodies of tiktok audios and youtube cringe compilation videos. this is the halloween i’m enchanted by.
every generation thinks they were the last to be kids, and they all say it with a different image of childhood in their mind’s eye. kids will always be kids, whether they choose this reality or the virtual one. the truth is, the reese’s cup will only ever exist in the former.
obsession of the week
these beans! oh my god, you guys, these beans. while stoned and depressed yesterday evening, i knew i needed some kitchen therapy. with no plan whatsoever, i whipped up the beans, which is what i’m going to call them because no alternative bean will ever again be necessary. i’m not even kidding, this randomly might be the best thing i’ve ever made.
here’s a rough recipe, which you can modify as you please, because most of cooking is just being creative and improvising.
ingredients, in an order that will seem totally random to you:
1 can cannellini beans
~1 cup broth (chicken, veg, beef, whatever)
shit ton of butter (~1½ tbsp)
some olive oil
half a large onion, diced
3 cloves of garlic, minced
heaping tbsp miso paste
1 cup halved cherry tomatoes (i used heirloom)
~1/4 cup half and half
juice of half a lemon
fresh thyme (many sprigs), chopped
fresh or dried rosemary (a little less than the thyme), chopped
salt & pepper to taste
1 unit burrata
red pepper flakes for finishing
instructions, if you dare call them that:
preheat skillet to medium heat. melt ~1 tbsp butter (use as much butter as you want; i fucking love butter) and add ~2 tbsp olive oil. add diced onions and minced garlic and cook until fragrant.
add a heaping tablespoon of miso paste (i used red, but it doesn’t matter) and combine.
drain most of the bean water but leave some, about 1/4 of it, to help with thicc-ening. add beans and minimal bean water to the pan.
season with salt, pepper, fresh thyme, and rosemary. stir!
add broth (i used chicken) and bring mixture to a simmer (usually medium low to medium heat).
add half & half gradually in small splashes and stir continuously to combine.
add more butter because you love yourself.
squeeze in the juice of half a lemon.
add halved tomatoes. stir again!
simmer on medium for ~10 minutes until desired thickness.
adjust the consistency to your liking by adding a bit more broth or half & half, if you fancy a fine-tuning. taste to assess seasoning needs, if any.
pour the bean soupy sauce/saucy soup into your best plate-bowl and top with burrata, a drizzle of good olive oil, and a sprinkle of red pepper flakes.
serve with toasted sourdough if you know what’s good for you.
all hail the beans!