When coronavirus hit the news, I was flying from NY to Ft. Lauderdale on 3/9 to begin a six-month concert tour of my new album (Legrand Affair: Deluxe Edition) singing the music of my mentor Michel Legrand.
Next stop was Palm Springs, London, Vegas, LA, Paris, and more. 3/12 at Lincoln Center was to be the release of the brand-new limited-edition vinyls—which now, of course, sit in boxes in my living room, in piles. I did that Florida concert, but things moved quickly. Within a week, my three daughters—ages 11, 11, and 13—were homeschooling, taking ballet online, and my husband had Covid-19. We quickly shifted him to the basement. His symptoms have stayed mild, so far, Thank God, but it was very stressful having him living in quarantine in the basement, away from us all, for what has become a month.
All my concerts dropped completely…and all I could do was…well, I had to start cooking! I mean cook seriously! I hadn’t ever really had to cook – I had never even opened the box of the Cuisinart we’d gotten as a wedding gift 21 years ago. On the road all the time, I shared the task with babysitters or grabbing food on my commutes. Mealtime wasn’t the art form of our home. Suddenly…21 meals a week, for five people! — and I wanted those meals to reflect a sense of wellness.
I called friends, I googled, I set out on a journey. Someone sent me a recipe for Katharine Hepburn’s brownies and I turned on my video camera and started filming, just for fun. One of my daughters walked into the video, and I drank some wine and started to ruminate about show business and suddenly it was a talk show, a form of performing. I posted it on Instagram and friends kept me company, laughing (and many made brownies the next day). Over the weeks, I compared prepping boeuf bourguignon to the way Broadway performers are rehearsed in different studios until they come together, beautifully.
I told slightly saucy stories about co-starring with Jeremy Irons in Camelot while I made sauce. Viewers seemed to identify both with my apprehensions and my ambitions, offering titles like “The Honest Cook” and “Finishing Melissa’s Hat,” both a reference to Sondheim (my other favorite composer) and the chef’s hat, the toque, which I wear at the start of each recipe on my Instagram.
Turns out, performers have to perform, even when we’re performing for an (immediate) audience of four. (I’ll be taking off my apron for a special at-home concert benefiting The Actors Fund later this month, and an episode of PBS’s Poetry in America about Sondheim that I am featured in premieres May 9.) But, cooking and bringing us together at the table is really the big show that must go on.
And my still-recovering husband shouts up from the basement every night, “It’s the best dinner I’ve ever eaten!” I’ve gotten worse reviews.