I assume, at this point, that just about everyone on the Internets has seen at least one episode of My Drunk Kitchen, starring the lovely Hannah Hart. If you have not, may I suggest this banana bread episode, also starring Grace Helbig? (“We’ll find out!”) But, let’s just assume that you’ve seen an episode or two, or that -if you haven’t – my explanation that MDK is basically about a rambly, philosophizing, goofily drunk host who hangs out with her friends, LOVES TO USE PUNS, and mostly tries to cook things, and sometimes winds up with edible end products, is sufficient. It doesn’t do the show, the host, or her new ‘cookbook’ complete justice, but I’ve spent a couple of days trying to figure out how to do sum it up better, and that’s the best I’ve got, so we’ll go with it.
First thing you should know about MDK, the book, is that it’s not like any ‘normal cookbook’ you’ve ever bought before. If you’re actually searching for specificity in your recipes, you’ve come to the wrong place: With instruction steps like “Ingredients – 2 slices of bread (pick your favorite) ; inside parts (again up to you, what we have pictured here is PB&J)” and “But if you’re going to do any of that you can always just scoop pico de gallo onto croutons and call it a day. You’ve got better things to do anyway… like making this cat! (includes a ASCII drawing of a cat)“. Or, my personal favorite “Take a tortilla and resist the urge to bit it into a little face shape.” – let’s just say you’re not exactly getting any “Preheat oven to 275 and bake for 15 minutes until golden browns.” But that’s not the appeal here, anyways.
No, the appeal to this misnomer-ed cookbook – that I, by the way, recommend you actually sit down and read cover to cover – lies in the author herself, her ability to relate life lessons in what John Green calls her “punnily hilarious” manner, and the sense of real connection that she builds with her audience/readers. Apparently Hannah & I have more than a few things in common. Among these are an envy of perfect kids with their perfect Lunchables; a sense of questioning and confusion about being one of the last singles in a a flock full of suddenly-marrieds; & a distinct tendency to head towards the preachy side when it comes to making sure the people around us know that they rock, while not being able to apply similarly stringent values to our own self-worth.
But it takes more than just a few shared personality traits to so endear me to an author, particularly with one I’d seem to be so far away from, when it comes to life experiences – I was, in fact, first completely turned off from MDK, the show, because I have poor life experiences with drunk people, and I myself don’t drink at all. (Nope, not really ever. Yes, I know that makes me an oddball. I have my reasons.) And I did appreciate, as a complete teetotaler, and a person with Reasons, the chapter on the evils of drinking, that (cutely and astutely) illustrated that while half the fun of My Drunk Kitchen is the drunk parts, if you act like Hannah is acting in those short little videos for prolonged (say, lifelong) periods of time, you’re going to wind up with some serious health – and life – issues.
So what does a teetotaler, get out of MDK (both the videos and this new “cookbook”)? For one, I get the benefit of Hannah’s company. From the first time I saw her bumbling around in that tiny kitchen, to her book’s final acknowledgement to her longtime companion, Cheese, I have been impressed her enthusiasm and humor. The thing about Hannah – a person on the Internet that I have never actually talked to or met, but one I have listened to for untold hours, and now spent a few additional hours reading about her advice on living- is just how GENUINE she seems. She’s someone who
- enjoys her job
- wants to make things better for people (On their cross-country road-trip, they raised over 100,000 pounds of food that was redistributed to feed nearly 94,000 people in need)
- understands that sometimes life sucks. Or certain parts of life suck. But wants you to know you can get through those parts and times.
- thinks maybe science works “based on trust”
- knows that there’s no one “real” way to have a holiday, and we all need to calm down a little bit about it.
and has the really awesome, ultimate goal of “No judging. Just progress.” I mean, if I could be that chill and non-judgmental about my own life (let alone the lives of other people), I’d be a hell of a lot happier. It’s an admirable quality, an excellent – if optimistically, overwhelmingly, unachievable – goal, and it sums up the whole book really well: Hannah Hart has somehow written a “cookbook”, that technically deals with both drinking and cooking, and yet, you don’t have to do or enjoy either to find this book inspirational and helpful for your everyday life.
It’s filled with all sorts of little wisdom-y tidbits like “It is really not okay to just assume that nobody is going to understand you.” and “As it turns out, that feeling of being lost or listless or never achieving your potential doesn’t contain itself within any certain decade of life; it just lives in you until you learn how to cope with it or let it go.” Tell me those aren’t things you’ve needed to hear, at some point in your life.
So, if you’re looking for the best pie recipe in the world (and I always am), keep searching (although she DOES have an ingenious idea about a pizza cake that’s worth a second look); but if you’re looking for some hard won wisdom, delivered in the midst of truly ridiculous puns and questionable food choices (Jewish Taquitos? Panfakes?: I feel like if you to be actual friends with Hannah is to have the nearest delivery options on speed dial, at all times), then look no further.
(A suggestipe, by the way, is a combination recipe/suggestion. Just so you know.)