I live in Princeton, New Jersey, but hail from Texas. I actually live closer to Trenton than Princeton, but they're pretty close to each other, and I get approving looks when I say I live in Princeton. This is my fourth winter here, and I still haven't quite gotten used to the weather.
Our current president tweeted that climate change is a scam perpetrated by the Chinese, and then he denied ever saying that. He's called global warming—and I quote—bullshit. He wants to be able to use hair spray, OK? I'm from Texas, so I can appreciate Aqua Net. I get it. I also got a blistering sunburn in Australia a couple years ago, so maybe take it easy on the ozone layer. I'm not a climate scientist, but other people—climate scientists, namely—are. And you can yell "FAKE NEWS" all you want, but that doesn't change the fact that the last three years have each beaten the previous record for the warmest year ever, and we're about 2 degrees warmer (Fahrenheit, because AMERICA) than at the end of the 19th century.
Yesterday, it was 60 degrees. In the middle of February. In Princeton/Trenton, New Jersey. As I walked to pick up my lunchtime sushi, I shed my jacket and enjoyed the nice day. Forecasters were warning about a storm today—forecasting up to 10 inches of snow. The Eastern Seaboard battened down its hatches. Today, it snowed, plus all the other winter garbage: ice, rain, icy rain. By late morning, the snow stopped, with a modest total of 4 inches in my area, though other places got much more. While my husband heads out to start shoveling, I make lunch. We only have one shovel, after all.
A few months ago, we made a big batch of tonkotsu broth. We use J. Kenji Lopez-Alt's recipe at Serious Eats, which you should too, because it's great. The CliffsNotes version is to boil the hell out of some pork trotters (that's feet), plus whatever chicken parts you have lying around, plus some ginger and onion and garlic. It's delicious and you should make some, and then you should freeze some of it because if you try to eat all of it before it goes bad, you will never want ramen again. (This probably isn't true. But you won't want it immediately.)
When you get hit by a semi-unexpected snowstorm, thaw the broth. Fix whatever ramen toppings you like or, more accurately, whatever you might happen to have on hand after a snow day is sprung on you after it was 60 degrees yesterday. I roasted some past-their-prime brussels sprouts and browned some pulled pork (also dug out from the freezer) into carnitas. I poached an egg. If you're doing this right, you should make some proper ajitsuke tamago because they're the greatest thing in the history of ever, but if you're realizing that you need to make a warm post-shoveling meal, just poach an egg. Top with Sriracha if you're a hipster, or the cool, artisanal version of Sriracha if you're better than hipsters. Drink with the beer that you bought hoping that the Falcons would win the Super Bowl because you went to college in Atlanta.
As I write this, it is midafternoon. The snow from this morning's storm is halfway melted. Climate change is real.
Resistance Kitchen is a blog about food, rage and politics at resistancekitchen.tumblr.com. This is a guest post from Ruth Gilgenbach, a Texpat living in New Jersey, where she does economics and knits things.