You’ve been scrolling through Pinterest for an amount of time you can’t quite quantify. You try to backtrack to find out where the night went. There was dinner…and then a shower and then…, you stop mumbling to yourself. The thought that you’ve lost three hours laying in the bed since nine o’clock isn’t lost on you, but for some reason the serenity of the time of night you're in, hits you like a wave. There’s nothing but the swish of car tires on wet roads outside and the rustle of your fridge making ice.
Ice… it’s here that the idea first sings to you. It’s a quick, flash of a thought at first. The kind of thought that you can shake out of your mind with ease but you don’t do that. Instead you sit and listen for signs of anyone else stirring. The near silence falls on your ears and it's with this silent permission that you slip out of the warmth of your covers.
You fumble around your room using the slight glow of your phone screen to find your slippers in an effort to keep the late night vibe going. You slip out your door as silently as you can. After all, you must remember that you are a trespasser of the quiet in your house. The fridge swings open and your eyes scan the shelves for something…palatable.
The taste doesn't have to be too complex. No, what you’re looking for is more along the lines of comfort food. Something with too much sugar or too much fat…or both. Something to sate your midnight appetite and fuel you through what you know is at least a few hours of early morning.
Yes! This meal will be your breakfast before breakfast. The kind of thing that sits on your stomach like a naughty little secret between you and the kitchen and the cat who’s yet to go to bed.
Screw the fridge, there’s something better. The freezer door opens and a small gust of winter seems to slip out and greet your exposed skin. You dig around and find the onion rings. The bag is unopened. It’s been placed there by a considerate mother. You smile to yourself and check the path from her room to the kitchen. It’s not like you’d get in trouble but something about adding mischief to your little night snack adds the slightest skip in your chest.
The air fryer beeps to life as you unload an obnoxious amount of golden rings in the tray. You set the temperature and time and then it’s on to the sauce. Mayo, sriracha, cayenne, worcestershire, smoked paprika, ketchup, horseradish, pepper, garlic, and onion powder. All swirl to make that signature flavor that you secretly love more than the onion rings. Your pinky swipes the back of the spoon and the taste is familiar and pleasant.
Ten minutes left on the timer.
You cover your sauce and start to hum to yourself. Your voice isn’t special but it’s all you can do to fill the empty air. Something about playing a video or song on your phone feels disruptive to whatever atmosphere you’re trying to preserve.
The onion rings are done. You plate your food and sauce and then you’re back to your room.
At this kind of hour stimulation outside of eating isn’t necessary. You cut on your LEDs. The light isn’t bright or harsh. The color of red fills your room and all that’s left is you eating and listening to the ambient noise of midnight.