When “Friction-Maxxing” Can Be a Piece of Cake

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It’s Andy here today. Ann is in OurLittleCorner staring at clouds.

Our son, Travis, recently sent us a link to a New York Magazine article entitled In 2026, We Are Friction-Maxxing by Kathryn Jezer-Morton (who has a PhD in sociology I might add). The term “friction-maxxing,” which she coined for the article must have touched a collective nerve; reactions almost immediately appeared in such on-line publications asThe Guardian, Forbes, Elle Decor, Financial Times, Slate, Cybernews, and the HuffPost, not to mention a slew of blogs, Instagram posts, and YouTube videos.

Illustration by Hannah Buckman from Jezer-Morton’s New York Magazine article.

The crux of Jezer-Morton’s argument is that our culture is increasingly being defined by the desire to avoid the “frictions” of everyday life. It’s a desire fostered by the marketing strategies of tech companies whose “friction-elimination tools” are reaping huge profits:

Tech companies are succeeding in making us think of life itself as inconvenient and something to be continuously escaping from, into digital padded rooms of predictive algorithms and single-tap commands: Reading is boring; talking is awkward; moving is tiring; leaving the house is daunting. Thinking is hard. Interacting with strangers is scary. Risking an unexpected reaction from someone isn’t worth it. Speaking at all — overrated. These are all frictions that we can now eliminate, easily, and we do.

Rather than trying to escape from the frictions of our daily lives, Jezer-Morton argues that we should try to meet these inconveniences (or frictions) head on. And it’s not simply a matter of abandoning “friction-elimination” tech tools. We must learn to tolerate the uncertainties of “living with other people in spaces that are impossible to completely control.” This is essential, she says, to “preserve our humanity.”

The catch is that facing friction is not for the faint-hearted. It takes will power and self discipline. This spartan attitude is being echoed in most of the on-line discussions of Jezer-Morton’s article — toughen up, deny the lures of escapism, and avoid the paths of least resistance.

Jezer-Morton offers few suggestions to begin “your friction-maxxing journey:”

  • Stop sharing your location with your kids and your partner (on smartphones)
  • Stop using ChatGPT completely.
  • Invite people over to your house without cleaning it all the way up.
  • Babysit for someone who needs a night out

While I found Jezer-Morton’s argument to be compelling , she is largely addressing a relatively young audience (her article appears under the tagline “Brooding: Deep thoughts on modern family life”) and fails to consider an important segment of our population — the nearly invisible cohort of older people (aka, the “elderly”) who endure a lion’s share of daily friction. As a card-carrying member of this cohort I thought it may be valuable to share some of my own thoughts on friction-maxxing.

The way I look at it aging is a process of “frictionization.” As we get older, friction increasingly becomes an unescapable part of our daily routine. This means that for us older folks friction-maxxing is not some illusive goal requiring will power or self discipline — it’s the way we roll. Let me provide a couple of personal examples.

To start with, a not-surprising affliction for many of us in this age group is being “techtarded.” This dramatically limits our ability to deploy the latest technology to even get fleeting moments of escape from our friction-filed lives. The amount of friction I encounter while trying to figure out how to use these so called “friction-elimination tools” by far exceeds any friction–saving advantages I might gain. The other evening Ann and I thought it might be fun to take a little friction break via Crossplay, a two-person word game app recently launched by the NYTimes. After more than a frustrating hour trying to synchronize our smart phones in order to play the game we gave up in exasperation. Instead of an escape, our efforts ushered even more friction into our lives (along with considerable tension).

A NYTimes “friction-elimination app” ? Ann and I would play if we could ever sync our %#*@ smart phones .

Composing this blog is another example of how friction has become an integral part of my life. Writing has never been easy for me, but nowadays it seems to require much more effort. WordPress (the program we use for our blog) records a copy of each revision; at this point while writing today’s blog I can see that I’m up to 95 revisions (and the program only keeps track of 100 revisions). That’s a hell of a lot of friction (although it’s a type of friction that brings considerable satisfaction). [Editor’s note: I should add that I stubbornly refuse to use the “Improve with AI” option that WordPress dangles seductively on the right side of my screen — however, I do shamelessly (and frequently) use the spell-check option].

I could go on (and on) with examples, but because the number of revisions allotted to me for this blog is maxxed out I’ll conclude with a couple of thoughts. First, I believe that Jezer-Morton is spot-on with her her observation that tech companies have developed addictive apps and methods for eliminating many of the frictions of our daily life. However, I also believe that unless an app is miraculously developed that allows us to bypass the aging process, friction will eventually become a reality we will have to learn to cope with. And from my experience that’s not bad.

Snug Solitude-Part 1

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It’s Ann here today. While I’m busy cooking with canned tomatoes, Andy is in OurLittleCorner griping about off-season fresh tomatoes that taste like wet cardboard.

The first entry of M.F.K.Fisher’s 1948 series, Alphabet for Gourmets, is “A Is for Dining Alone.” It begins “…sharing food with another human being is an intimate act that should be indulged in lightly…There are few people alive with whom I care to pray, sleep, dance, sing, and (perhaps most of all, except sleep) share my bread and wine.” And she concludes the essay with “…snug misanthropic solitude is better than hit-or-miss congeniality.”

Lots of great writers in this 2008 book (which includes the essay by M.F.K. Fisher)

In sharp contrast to that, Michael Pollan in his 2008 In Defense of Food advises, “Try not to eat alone.”

So should we side with Fisher or Pollan?

Among our extended group of family and friends we have many who are eating alone these days, for a variety of reasons. And, to be honest, most of these folks would side with Pollan.

I’ve been wracking my brain for months about how to advise these solo eaters, and it’s not easy. Of course, you can suggest that they invite folks over often for a super-simple, home-cooked meal – or that they go out often for casual dinners with friends, but ultimately, the majority of the time they will come back to their kitchen to cook and to eat alone.

Today’s blog will be my first – but not my last – on the subject of solo eating. More blogs will come – but not back to back. It’s all too important and challenging – and, yes, rewarding to figure out.

My personal criteria looks something like this:

A main dish for solo eating should need…

  • a very, very short prep time
  • a short cooking time
  • not too many ingredients (except spices)
  • very, very little dicing and mincing
  • no frying – except in a wok or dutch oven
  • little effort to clean up

And that dish should be fairly nutritious, provide lots of leftovers both to freeze and to eat a few days later – and shouldn’t be ridiculously expensive.

I’ve been searching all of my favorite on-line sites for inspiration…SmittenKitchen.com, Food52.com, NYTimes.com, BarefootContessa.com, SeriousEats.com – and smaller ones such as TheMediterraneanDish.com, PinchofYum.com, CookieandKate.com, and TheWoksofLife.com. A few cookbooks have been useful too – What We Eat When We Eat Alone by Deborah Madison and a brand new one by Caroline Chambers (mother of 3 young boys…so in a different cooking world than we are) – What To Cook when You Don’t Feel Like Cooking (note: Chambers has a very active online presence too, including a Substack site and a weekly newsletter with recipes and ideas – and products to buy :).

There won’t be many recipes that can fulfill all of my criteria, but here’s one that comes pretty close. Plus, it has 6700+ positive reviews on the NYTimes website: Crispy Halloumi with Tomatoes and White Beans. And as far as being “alone in the kitchen with an eggplant,” I’ll have a simple recipe with eggplant up soon!

Note: halloumi is often made with “non-animal rennet,” so it works for vegetarians…just check the label.

Crispy Halloumi with Tomatoes and White Beans

Halloumi should be served immediately after frying and does not rewarm well, so fry only the amount you think you’ll use in one sitting and refrigerate any unfried halloumi for later. Don’t omit the honey and lemon…they’re vital to the flavor. This is a riff on a NYTimes recipes by Nargisse Benkabbou.

  • Olive oil, as needed
  • 1(8-oz) block halloumi, cut into about 9 slices 
  • 2 cloves of garlic, minced or pressed (or buy a jar of Christopher Ranch Chopped Garlic and use that to simplify your prep even more)
  • 1 (15 oz) can fire-roasted diced tomatoes (or, if you have amazing summer cherry tomatoes, substitute 1 lb of them, halved)
  • 1 tsp honey, plus more for serving
  • 1/2 tsp dried oregano or thyme
  • Salt and black pepper
  • 1(15-oz) can cannellini beans, butter beans or navy beans, drained
  • 2 T lemon juice
  • Minced parsley for serving (optional)
  • Crusty bread or rolls for serving (optional)

Heat 2 T olive oil in a medium-sized pan over medium heat. Add 4 slices of halloumi and cook them for about 2 minutes on each side. Remove the halloumi from the pan (it will be added back in later). Add the 2 cloves of minced garlic and saute for about 30 seconds, then add the canned tomatoes, honey, and oregano. Season with salt and pepper and simmer for 2-3 minutes (if you are using fresh cherry tomatoes, you’ll have to cook the mixture about 10 minutes).

Stir in the beans and then arrange the fried halloumi slices on top of the tomato-bean mixture in the pan. If you want the stew to have more broth, add a little water or vegetable broth. Simmer for about 5 minutes. Taste and season with more salt and pepper if needed.

Drizzle with a little olive oil, squeeze the lemon half over it all and then add a light drizzle of honey. Garnish with parsley and serve immediately with bread.

There are tons of ways to vary this recipe – which makes it even more useful. You might stir in a big handful of fresh baby spinach leaves to the hot mixture or add 1 T minced anchovies or add 2 tsp of white miso paste. Consider frying an egg and serving it on top. Add a pinch of red pepper flakes during cooking – for some spice.

Recipe brought to you by BigLittleMeals.com and Andy and Ann.

Something Is Rotten in the State of…

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It’s Ann here today. Andy is in OurLittleCorner making faces😁 .

Is something rotten in the state of Denmark England? California? maybe even Albuquerque? Those are the settings for my three new favorite works – two novels and a TV series, and all are post-apocalyptic. And I make no claims to even liking science fiction (though I would prefer to categorize these works as something other than science fiction. Margaret Atwood, apparently, likes the term “speculative fiction” – which seems apropos).

I’m always impressed with good writing – and good television. And it seems Andy and I are constantly on the lookout for the next best read and/or watch.

After I read Cormac McCarthy’s The Road I swore I would never read another post-apocalyptic novel again. It was that alarming. But time heals all things, and I’m now totally enamored with these futuristic works…Vince Gilligan’s Pluribus on Apple TV, Ian McEwan’s recent novel, What We Can Know, and Octavia Butler’s 1993 novel Parable of the Sower.

I asked an editor from the San Francisco Standard to give me a brief review of Pluribus, and here’s what she wrote:

“Pluribus may paint a picture of the future that’s unnervingly one-step from our future AI reality, but at its core, the show is really about being human. In the face of her new world, the main character vacillates between states of anger, lust, hilarity, loneliness, and sadness — feelings that apparently (thank god) aliens are incapable of. So it’s a good reminder that the flip side of human suffering is joy and they’re interconnected. And aliens with their perfect little lives are clearly missing out. (But then again — are they? Stay tuned for Season 2!)”

And I asked a formerLSU college professor to comment on What We Can Know – and here’s what he had to say:

“Although it is set in decimated post-apocalyptic 2120’s (where many of the dire predictions have come to pass), What We Can Know is much more than a cautionary tale.  McEwan is not only a great story-teller, he packs so much insight and creativity into his paragraphs that I found myself frequently rereading parts (partly to understand but mainly to marvel at his incredible way with words).  It is the kind of book you hate to see end.

And, since none of the family (yes, the Standard editor and the college professor are family 🙂 has read Parable of the Sower, let me discuss it a bit.

I bought this paperback from the Maryland Book Bank (provides free books for needy children) – and they apparently got it from the Goucher Prison Education Partnership. Interesting journey, it’s had.

I’m fascinated with Butler, whose mother was a housekeeper and father a shoeshiner and who was born in Pasadena in 1948 and died in 2006. I hate to admit I had never read about her or about any of her works until now. There is a brief interview with Butler at the end of Parable of the Sower. In the interview she describes herself this way: Who am I? I am…comfortably asocial—a hermit. … A pessimist if I’m not careful, a feminist, a Black, a former Baptist, an oil-and-water combination of ambition, laziness, insecurity, certainty, and drive.“

The plot of Parable of the Sower (remember it was written 33 years ago) is set in California, beginning in 2024, and its follow-up novel, Parable of the Talents, is set in the 2030’s, which is eery, to say the least. Climate change and water shortage, drugs and disease, inequality and corporate greed are just a few of the issues being faced by the people, including the main character, a Black woman named Lauren.

Where is the upbeat part that makes the novel not totally depressing? Lauren believes that she has an idea that will bring positive changes to the world. Her name for this is Earthseed. Earthseed is what drives her and keeps her going.

And here, in my opinion, is the most-soothing, most-optimistic line from Butler’s novel: “From what I’ve read…the world goes crazy every three or four decades. One trick is to survive until it goes sane again.” I so hope that’s right.

(and one aside: if you really want to be freaked out consider this. In Parable of the Talents, the U.S. is being led by a president who hopes to rid the country of non-Christians, has brought back slavery, AND has the motto “Make America Great Again.” Mind you this was written in 1998. Prescient?

If you’re into reading more “speculative fiction,” here are some others to consider.

from MentalFloss.com

How does this all relate to food? It’s both scary and kind of funny to read all of the online sites about food for post-apocalypse times. In my brief research I was more interested in what still could be grown – not what we should store up (canned goods, beans, honey, and alcohol (!) for example). A lot of what can be grown depends on what caused the apocalypse. I’m going to suggest you read the BBC’s Science Focus take, “This is what you’d eat after the apocalypse, according to science.” The possible crops are peas, carrots, potatoes, sugar beets, and spinach.

I’m not sure whether apocalypse survivors will have access to spices, but today’s recipe could be made without any and would still be nutritious. Meanwhile, let’s savor all those seeds, bulbs, tubers, and rhizomes that give us the spices we can enjoy today.

Aloo Gajar Matar

And a final note – as we speculate about the future: maybe we all need to have Selaginella lepidophylla, aka The Resurrection Plant. It’s not going to help with providing food, but, according to HighlandMoss.com , its “ability to rise from the state of the ‘dead’ has made it a symbol of hope and rebirth across various cultures….In folk magic, it’s believed to bring peace, power, and protection from bad spells into a home.” Better yet, according to The Brain Maze on Facebook, it reminds us that “even in the most desolate conditions, life always finds a way to return.”

Aloo Gajar Matar (Indian Potatoes, Carrots & Peas)

  • 2 T oil
  • 1/2 tsp turmeric
  • 2 tsp minced garlic
  • 2 tsp grated ginger
  • 1 tsp Diamond kosher salt
  • 3 c cubed red potatoes (about 1/2″ cubes)
  • 3 T water
  • 3 c peeled and diced carrots 
  • 1 c frozen green peas
  • 1/2 tsp ground cumin
  • 1 tsp coriander
  • 1/4 tsp Kashmiri chili powder – or cayenne
  • 1/2 tsp garam masala
  • 1 tsp amchur (dry mango powder) or 1 tsp lemon juice 
  • 1/2 c chopped cilantro for serving (optional)

Heat oil in a large skillet (which has a lid) over medium low heat. Add the turmeric, garlic and ginger and fry for about 1 minute.

Add the cubed potatoes, salt, and water and stir well. Cover and cook over low heat for about 5 minutes.

Add carrots and stir them in; cover with lid and cook on low for about 10 minutes, stirring occasionally.

When carrots and potatoes are both soft and cooked, stir in the frozen green peas and the remaining spices – ground cumin, coriander, chili powder, garam masala, and amchur – or lemon juice); cover and cook on low for another 5 minutes, stirring several times.

Garnish with cilantro and serve with roti or naan.

Recipe brought to you by BigLittleMeals.com and Andy and Ann.


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