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Molly Jong-Fast Always Gets a Waffle Cone
Illustration: Margalit Cutler
Author and political commentator Molly Jong-Fast eats a lot of ice cream. “I actually like cupcakes much more than ice cream, but I feel that ice cream is healthier for you, because it has milk in it,” she says. It also features in one of the few uncomplicated childhood memories she has of her mother, the feminist writer Erica Jong. “When Mom would ask me to watch TV with her, I would run right up the stairs to her room and eat ice cream until my stomach hurt,” she writes in her conflicted new memoir, How to Lose Your Mother. The book is her first in over a decade, and its release has prompted a “kind of slow rolling anxiety attack,” she says. It’s certainly kept her busy; most of her meals these days are on the go. At the peak of the madness earlier this June, Jong-Fast spent a week eating bagels in the back of taxis, downing ginger shots, and stockpiling sweets.
Tuesday, June 3
I’m appearing on Morning Joe as a political analyst, which means 6 a.m. wake up, 7 a.m. at the studio. I spend a lot of time worrying about the state of American democracy and how to fix it, which is why I’m very annoying. I also drink enormous lattes most mornings — a lot of skim milk, no sugar. On the way to the studio I buy another latte from Starbucks.
One of my vocal cords is weak; we used to think it was paralyzed, but all it really means is that I’m more susceptible to laryngitis, which I got two weeks ago for a day, and it sucked. Because I’m going on a book tour, I’m trying hard not to get it again by mainlining ginger shots. I prefer those from Pret a Manger because they’re not too strong.
I consume 40 Throat Coat lozenges while I’m on air — though not actually while I’m on air — for a little over an hour. Then I head downtown to the Condé Nast offices for a book talk. In the taxi, which takes forever, I eat half a plain bagel with some scrambled eggs and butter. I love butter. My favorite bagels in the city are from Kossar’s Bakery & Bialys, but I also enjoy Tal Bagels.
Coming back uptown, I drink more coffee before a few pre-interviews at NBC. My cutoff should be 12 for caffeine, but sometimes it’s not. I have an Oura Ring that hates me for it, but I also have teenage children.
I head to Deadline: White House with Nicole Wallace. I love her. I eat some enormous black-and-white cookies from William Greenberg on the way. Can you guess what my cholesterol is? It’s 300, which means I win.
Whenever I go to 30 Rock, I am contractually obligated to stop at Van Leeuwen for ice cream. Today I get a waffle cone with mint chip.
Later that night I eat some kind of salad thing that was already in the house. I don’t know what the story with that was. When you have children, food occasionally just appears, and how it got there is a mystery. There’s food in the house that you’ve never seen before, that you’ll never see again. I don’t know how it got there, or where it goes. It’s like a haunted house. I eat early because I have to do a reading at the Barnes & Noble on the Upper West Side. (And then spend five hours trying to get all my eye makeup off.)
Wednesday, June 4
I have a latte, a banana, and half of a plain bagel with peanut butter, on the way to do CBS Mornings in Times Square. CBS puts a lot of makeup on my face, and I look amazing. But this amazing-lookingness is offset by the knowledge that I am going to have to get all this makeup off at some point.
Afterwards I meet some TV work friends at 30 Rock, at one of those coffee shops they have in the basement. We have iced tea, and I want a cookie, but I don’t have time to order, because I have to leave for D.C. I end up running down Seventh Avenue and almost miss my train. Once seated, I pick at a bag of Swedish Fish.
I meet some friends at Makers Union, one of those local D.C. chains, and have a cheeseburger. There is no weird mayo sauce, so I am happy. Mayonnaise seems gross to me. (Though I’m not a Republican, I do believe ketchup is a vegetable.) And the pickles are great, too. I have all the fries and an iced tea.
Afterwards, we go to an amazing chocolate store called Kilwins. I debate whether to get an ice cream cone, or to get a chocolate, or multiple chocolates. I get a waffle cone with two scoops — they weigh approximately a pound each — of cookie dough. I get worried that I’m not going to be able to finish it before I have to do a reading at Politics and Prose; I think to myself, “You’ll never eat this whole thing.”
I eat the whole thing. The reading goes well. Maureen Dowd, the emcee, says nice things about me and I think it might be the pinnacle of my career? On the car ride back to New York, all I can think about is that I could have had a bag filled with chocolate with me.
Thursday June 4
My dumb Oura Ring, which hates me, desperately wants me to get up at 7 a.m. I have two lattes and, like, 55 strawberries. Occasionally, I eat things that are not filled with cholesterol. 300, baby!
I stop at Starbucks for another latte on the way to Good Morning America. George Stephanopoulos is incredibly nice to me and says his wife Ali Wentworth listens to my podcast, which I find super moving. Did I mention I’m in that weird tour state, with not enough sleep? I could cry at any time, though I haven’t yet.
I have time to kill before doing Terry Gross at NPR — real bucket-list stuff — so I sit down at another Pret a Manger, where I have a ginger shot, a lemonade, and a cookie.
I do get slightly lost in NPR, which is funny because I was just at NPR. I go home and eat another 500 strawberries, a banana, and some yogurt. Whatever’s in the fridge. Afterward, I walk to my facial lady, Ildi. I love her and immediately fall asleep in the chair. I always do.
Tonight, I stay home and eat an early dinner with my kids — salad and steak, medium rare — who haven’t seen me in what feels like a year. But like I said, they’re teenagers, so they find me a little annoying, which is good and healthy and I appreciate it.
Afterwards I do Ari Melber’s show, and obviously stop by the 30 Rock Van Leeuwen. I think it’s because I’m sober that I have such a sweet tooth. I get the cake-flavored ice cream, which is honestly a revelation, in a waffle cone; it melts on me as I eat it.
Friday, June 6
It’s a Morning Joe day, so I’m up at six. I have a lot of fruit before I leave the house, and a Starbucks venti latte in the car; I’m still throwing back ginger shots.
Then I run home to do an interview for this fancy Canadian radio show, which they also record over Zoom. I look terrible, but I don’t really care. When your Wikipedia photo is as bad as mine, you kind of get over these things.
I do podcast interviews all afternoon. In the car with my family on our way to spend the weekend on Long Island, I eat more Swedish Fish. At least they’re fish!
We stop at a gas station, and pick up a Haribo Starmix, which is a variety bag of weird gummy candies. It is everything I ever hoped for and so much more. I was planning to share with my kids, but I do not.
On Long Island, we have family dinner: sandwiches with fancy cheese. And yes, I do get ice cream after and, yes, it’s in a waffle cone.
Saturday June 7
A friend visits and brings over a few Cafe Commerce cinnamon rolls — the best houseguest present ever. The rolls are hard in the right places outside, and soft in the right places inside. The frosting is amazing. I love frosting. It’s my religion.
I go to an early AA meeting and eat a Goldberg’s bagel with scrambled eggs and butter. Did I mention I love butter? Then I have three cinnamon rolls out of a tin.
We hang out and read the paper. I do Ail Velshi’s show via Zoom before we go to the cheese store, where they sell me a kind of Swiss cheese with edible flowers. This captures my imagination, and I eat a block of it.
I eat lunch someplace unspectacular, and order a chicken Caesar salad. It’s fine. If I don’t ever eat another piece of chicken, it’ll also be fine.
We have steaks at home, and they’re pretty good. For whatever reason I eat two of them, then I go out to the ice cream shop that only takes cash. Another day, another enormous ice cream on another waffle cone.
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