One of your favorite relatives is dying as we speak and you're thousands of miles away. You'll never see them alive again! That's frankly fucking devastating. But a bitch has gotta eat.
  1. Buy your stupid, pointless ingredients
    This, of course, involves crying in the grocery store because you're too dumb, cheap, or proud to use one of those home delivery services. That's okay, your tear-stained face will excuse your cart ingredients to nosy fellow shoppers.
  2. Here's what we're buying.
    Packaged fresh ravioli, Alfredo and pesto sauces, diced pancetta, frozen broccoli florets, Asiago and Parmesan cheeses, and ritz crackers. That's a lot, but who gives a fuck right now? We're all slowly dying and you can't take it with you. Pick up a bottle of white wine. Make it two, actually. And anything you want for dessert. Whatever you usually think better of buying for yourself is best.
  3. In the wine aisle, pass the beer he likes. Liked.
    Did he know when he was drinking his last beer that it was his last? Well, shit. Re-up on tears. Go 'head. Get it out and don't be afraid to glare balefully at anyone who dares to stare. Fuck them and their normal evening. I don't trust anyone who's never cried in a grocery store.
  4. Drive home while calling your mama
    They've turned off his monitors & he's on morphine to ease his pain. Probably not gonna make it to morning. You're trying to hold it together, but she can tell, and that makes you both lose it more. Luckily you're in the car so you can let loose with some full-on ugly animal sobs.
  5. Get home & assemble this idiotic motherfucker
    Casserole dish! Dump in your ravioli, broccoli, chicken, some pancetta. Mix. In a bowl, combine your Alfredo sauce with some pesto and thin with some milk (actually you use almond milk 'cause that's all you have, because you haven't been eating dairy and haven't exactly been planning for a casserole of this magnitude). Add shredded Asiago. Stir and dump over your ravioli mixture.
  6. Continue to assemble as if anything goddamn matters
    Balls to the wall, man. Fuck it and burn it to the ground. We're crushing those dumb-ass Ritz with some butter in a sauce pan. We are adding crushed garlic and red pepper flakes and we're stirring around until the butter is melted and the crackers are slightly brown. Now dump this cracker mixture on top of your grief casserole and then top that with some shredded Parmesan.
  7. Into the oven.
    You've preheated to 350 or 375. It doesn't really matter because we're making up this recipe anyway and who cares if it turns out like shit. Pop it in there.
  8. Now open your wine.
    It takes a while to find your opener and you wish you had opted for just hard liquor at the grocery store. Fuck corks and their smug cork faces!!! But you eventually find the corkscrew and dump a good portion of the bottle into a mason jar. Stare at it, add some ice cubes and club soda. A spritzer!! Now you feel like a dramatic older widow or something. Wonder if you have a black veil anywhere around the house. Realize he would think that was hilarious and begin to cry again in earnest.
  9. Drink and watch something utterly mindless
    Doesn't matter what. You don't have much mental space to process it. Cooking reality shows are great for this. Chopped, et al
  10. This casserole is probably going to make you feel pretty sick.
    You've been mostly vegan since July. It's now late October. This casserole is like 90% dairy. That's gonna hurt. Oh well. Smells good. Have I mentioned - fuck it, fuck everything?
  11. Take it outta the oven.
    No idea how long you bake it. Once it starts smelling good you just check it every once in a while to see how brown it's getting. More than 30 minutes, less than an hour?
  12. It's finished and it's GIANT.
    Well, it should be. The ingredients cost like 50 bucks. Stupid.
  13. You're not at all interested in eating this casserole.
    You know you won't even touch it. You've never been less interested in anything. Sit on the kitchen floor and cry. Feels pretty good down here actually. You can see why your dog likes it.
  14. Start writing a list
    ... wait, is this what it's like to talk about your feelings instead of eating them? If so, don't tell me. that's disgusting