A Meditation on Popcorn

Upon reflection, I've come to the realization popcorn is an extremely central part of the experience in our home. I can look back on 13 years with my wife, and one of the few constants is popcorn. Like habitual, nightly, routine. More often when we have guests over, have had a light dinner (or maybe not), even our freeloader kids are now part of this routine.

5-7 nights a week, 13+ years - that's a boatload of popcorn. (Or maybe it isn't. If this doesn't strike you as an abnormal amount of popcorn to consume, let's connect! We might have some experiences to share.) At least, It feels like a lot to me. Put this way - our boy (Freeloader #1 IMHO) jumps into bed with us about five times a week, disrupting our sleep. Or - our dog wakes us about twice a week at four a.m. fully in the midst of throwing up a sock that he snatched from the laundry and that feels like A TON of times a week for that to be happening. We have popcorn more often than both of these regular experiences, combined.

Considering we've maintained this pace for over a decade, popcorn has become this regular presence, this routine in our world. Maybe better described as a ritual. And by a series of extremely fortunate circumstances, I get to make most of our popcorn. I have a few observations from over two thousand bowls of popcorn:

First, let's talk ingredients. I have pared down to three: popcorn, coconut oil, and salt. I follow a set of sequenced events so specific they might as well be instructions. Over time, these have been refined, tweaked, adjusted, repeated and optimized.

I microwave (yes, microwave!) for 3:30 at 70% power for the First Pop. Three Tablespoons of kernels easily feeds two with some left over for the Freeloaders in the morning. With my microwave (at our altitude / humidity / whatever else affects the physics of cooking), First Pop slows down after about three minutes. While that's popping, I find a rather large bowl for tossing, and prep a Tablespoon of coconut oil. When popping slows, First Pop gets swapped for coconut oil into the microwave, adding a couple mins. Now I'm on the clock.

It takes roughly a minute to heat coconut oil to a fully liquid state. So I have one minute to get all the popped kernels into the bowl. After the oil is properly liquefied, it comes out, and in goes the unpopped kernels for Second Pop with the remaining time.

Next, a *light* drizzle of oil thoroughly coats First Pop. (Years of experimentation have demonstrated heavier flow will douse some areas and leave others unbalanced. Best to pay extra attention and achieve a thin, steady flow.) I'm still on the clock, so part of my attention is listening in the background for popping to slow down, usually 45 seconds or so. Just enough time to raise the pulse a degree, but not to the point of stress.

After the oil, salt. Confidence builds - the grinder, the feel of the salt crystals freshly cracking. The familiar visual as it showers down, lots of it. Look, feel how much salt it needs.

It's good to build some confidence, some momentum to head into First Toss. This is where a rather large bowl becomes handy. Flick, catch, rotate. Flick, catch, rotate. It's becoming art. Loops of kernels escaping gravity, leaving the bowl only to settle back safely (no shame about losing a few; these willing tributes become tasters). (BTW I just realized I have absolutely no idea what this looks like from an observer's eye - I'm well assured what it looks like cannot match what it feels like.)

Regardless, somewhere during First Toss, Second Pop will slow down. Very important to remember to taste, post-Toss. Second Pop might yield another half-cup or so of popped corn; that's not why I do it. Second Pop is about the Half-Pops. Those delightful little bits of crunchy goodness, God bless 'em.

After Second Sort comes Second Oil + Second Salt - same light drizzle, adjusting oil and salt to taste from First Toss and these newly-introduced kernels.

Humbly speaking, this process typically yields a fantastic bowl of popcorn. If we are hanging, I would happily make you a bowl to see if you agree.

BTW isn't this is one of the great joys of being an adult? Any time we choose, we can just have popcorn, Even more, we can have this in our lives every night! This delicious, crunchy, salty snack. What a privilege. What a joy.

Back to the subject at hand. I prefer my popcorn as a treat, so I aim for a post-dinner snack window - I want to feel a little snacky but not starved. I find this is the peak enjoyment time, when popcorn becomes an additive experience - something to be enjoyed, savored. A little luxury designed into the ongoing drumbeat of life. If we have guests, a reliable window is just after the second bottle of wine is opened.

Most nights though, we don't have guests. It's just us, settling into a night on the couch, looking to unwind the day and prepare for the next. Popcorn helps.

This holiday season, as we're hosting family again after years of this pandemic, we're starting to venture for later nights around the dinner table. Sometimes this is about simple conversation and catching up. Some nights we play games. I'm already feeling some pre-joy anticipating the bowls of popcorn we'll have in front of us. Little memories sitting out there waiting to be had.

Here's one observation I have. Preparing popcorn, like so many things in life, is an exercise in perspective. It can be a chore if I approach it that way. Sometimes, the bowl I want to use isn't washed. Sometimes we're down to the bottom of the oil tub and it takes some extra work to get the proper amount out. Etc etc - it doesn't always spark joy. Something that's a bit of a learning for me in 2021 is it doesn't have to.

My aim is to make this into a meditation, a service. It takes roughly five minutes to precisely walk through these steps, to give my full attention to this simplest of crafts. This is not about me - it's about us having a shared experience. I'll provide some snacks; let's create a memory.

Which leads me to one of my favorite rituals. Segue - my daughter is someone I find endlessly fascinating. Lately, I just want more and more time to with her, to learn what's going on in her fascinating, beautiful little mind. She's a little bookworm, she's good at everything, makes friends easily, but somehow maintains this enviable sense of remove from all that goes on around her. Someone can be completely melting down right beside her, but she doesn't vest herself in their experience. She's completely wonderful. Also worth mentioning she's always preferred her mother's company to mine. (I don't say this in a negative way; I've learned how to be more comfortable giving her space to become who she's going to become; part of my process is learning that my interests need to take a backseat to hers.)

Getting to the point - I don't get a lot of quality 1:1 time with my daughter at this phase in our lives. I've tried what a lot of dads do, which is take their kids on dates. Doesn't really work for us.

But I now have a secret weapon in my dad toolkit. When the unmistakeable, delicious smell of freshly popped corn comes wafting through our house, if my daughter is awake, she'll ask for some. (She'll have been up reading.) Some nights we need to be responsible parents. She's seven - probably has a long day, school and play and swimming / gymnastics / homework / activities / etc ahead of her tomorrow. We can't do it every night. But some nights she'll join me at our kitchen counter and we'll share a bowl. Just her and I. Our little form of date night. I like to dim the lights, set the mood. Turn on some background T. Swift, and get us each a bowl. We also both love sparkling water, so I'll make some. With an extra burst of gas - a bit of extra fizz for the special occasion.

This past year, these are easily the most special memories I have with her. Sometimes we talk about things, most often we happily munch in thoughtful silence. She'll give me feedback on the oil / salt ratios, or comments on the surprising splash of the bubbly water. But every so often, she'll share something she's working through in her mind. Something one of the girls is doing at school, something she heard or read. Whether humans will live on Mars someday, what that would take. Moments I'll cherish forever.

And to think, all of this - joy, perspective, learnings, life - from popcorn.