I bought a big head of cabbage at the farmer's market and a bunch of little potatoes at the coop, planning on a dinner party. But the week turned out to be too busy for guests, so the cabbage and potatoes were still around. I was thinking of making my milk-braised pork chops or maybe frikadellen, and ran these ideas by my life-partner. Basically, tell me what kind of pork you want. His response was "My favorite kind of pork is... corned beef."
Oh no. I don't think I like corned beef. But I figured it would be easy. I could throw it in the slow cooker. What is it called when you put potatoes, corned beef, and cabbage in a slow cooker? Oh. It's called New England Boiled Dinner.
Here's part of my problem with corned beef. It is funny looking. It has a lurid reddish color that doesn't go away when it's cooked. It has disturbing fatty bits and quivering connective stuff. It looks like it should be inside of something alive, not glistening on my counter. The guy at Price Chopper kindly halved a $19 piece of corned beef so I didn't have to deal with a gigantic piece, just a big piece.
So I plopped this in the slow cooker with the cabbage, 2 large chopped carrots and about 5 potatoes. It was already past noon, so I cranked it to "high." I also added a bay leaf, about 10 peppercorns, and enough water to cover the meat so it could really braise.
Six hours later it was done. I only had to intervene once, to push the cabbage down into the liquid so it could get all properly floppy.
To serve, I spooned out all the vegetables, then put the corned beef on its own plate. LOOK AT THIS. This is what I'm talking about with the weird grossness of corned beef. What is that tripey bit???
I bravely scraped off the fat and gaggy stuff, then sliced what remained. It started to look normal. Even edible.
So we ate it. And guess what, New England Boiled Dinner is really good! This truly is a boiled dinner, nothing else was needed except maybe mustard. One kid loved the meat the best, the other only wanted to eat the potatoes.
For dessert we had a half-recipe of yummy apple crisp, liberally squirted with whipped cream.
I'm not from New England, but I guess this is a regular thing that people's moms make, kind of an eye-roller of a dish like meatloaf. But I recommend it! Have you ever had it or made it?
It seemed like a good idea for a Sunday evening. Slow-roasted vegetables. Two hours in a low oven.
Look at this tangle of autumn goodness.
Spaghetti squash buttered up, delicata squash with maple syrup & cinnamon
I put olive oil & Bragg's all over the rutabaga, carrots, & parsnips. Then I chickened out and also put spice rub on the rutabaga, and honey all over the carrots & parsnips. They were lush.
Dinnertime! Just squashes and roasted roots people. Enjoy!
I invented these with my daughter one weekend evening. We just started mixing things together and ended up with these yummy croquettes. The batter is quite runny and chunky so kind of falls apart. I wonder how the Brattleboro Food Coop gets their Indonesian Rice Cakes to stick together? Our secret was just heat--cook one side thoroughly before flipping, and they don't fall apart as much.
You know how some people choose a perfume or cologne, then purposely wear that scent every single day so that it becomes their scent? And every time you get close to them, you can smell it? And every time you smell it somewhere else, you think of them?
Here's what I'd like to do. The same thing, but with audio. I want to hook up tiny speakers and perpetually broadcast music, very softly but very constantly, so that whenever someone is close to me they can hear it. And if they hear something like it elsewhere, they'll think of me. I also have the music selected, it is Memory Tapes. Particularly the new Modular People EP release called "Slaughtered." I just want this on around me all the time, rising off me like a signature scent.
The track is over 22 minutes long, but here's a tiny taste someone posted on Soundcloud. If you like, go download the whole thing! It is delicious! Thank you Memory Tapes for this damn fine free EP.
The death of Steve Jobs, when I consider it from a purely selfish, personal level, feels like the death of John Hughes to me. It feels like the end of an era, and it's my era. I grew up on these computers. My brain is wired a certain way because of them. They are such intuitive, comfortable products that they don't seem like gadgets or accoutrements or "products," they just seem like logical extensions of what I want.
I can never bear to get rid of them. Each Mac is a monumental and significant part of my life when I'm using it, so I keep them around even when I'm not. Do you do that? I think about the papers written, the games played, the fonts selected, the avatar badges built pixel by pixel, the terrible Photoshopping attempted. The flight simulators. The desktop photos I have loved. With the iPod, the miles I've driven and run in its musical embrace. These products are alive--from the 512K to the iMac, from the iMac to the Mac mini, from the Mac mini to the MacBook (wait, I still use both of them, one is for sitting and one is for lounging in bed). I have to keep them, and other family members seem to feel the same. We collected all of the Apple products in the house and did a photo shoot.
Pictured, clockwise from left: MacBook, Macintosh 512K, Applewriter printer, a "dual G5 MacPro" (that silver thing isn't mine so I have no idea what it's called), a ruby iMac, in the middle 2 Mac minis and an iPod.
Not pictured: A blue iMac exactly like the ruby one on the right. An Apple Newton that we decided was un-Jobs. A Touch that is probably lost in a pile of papers somewhere.
The Macintosh 512 K is the most meaningful of these, and was the most useful and fun for years. Like 16 years. We got it in 1984, and this computer got me through high school, college, grad school, chef school, and 3 years after that, until I finally was given a new computer in 2000. (Thanks Mom!) The "p" key on the keyboard was not in good shape toward the end. The 512K still worked the last time I tried it, but I fear it doesn't work any more so I don't want to turn it on again and be crushed. My favorite thing to do on the Macintosh 512K was play this labyrinth game that I could never win. I played it for years and years. In college I also got a copy of Tetris. Of course everything had to be on disc because the thing only had 512K. That was a GREAT COMPUTER. (The printer was great, too.)
There's something about autumn and studio tours that goes together so well. If you're driving around looking at foliage anyway, why not stop and visit some creative people in their habitats? I highly recommend the annual Putney Craft Tour, happening every Thanksgiving weekend (this year it's November 25th-27th). Do not miss Ken Pick's pottery studio, where you can trace ceramic finger labyrinths and enjoy hot cider from the top of the wood stove while you chat with the artist.
This weekend the Vermont Crafts Council put on their Foliage Open Studio Weekend and we stopped by Jason E. Breen's woodworking place in the Brattleboro hills. It was a neat place and nice to meet Jason and learn how planes work. Here are a few vignettes.
Tools! That lighting makes it like some olde oil painting.
For those who are keeping track of these things, September 26th is the day that Frodo Baggins and companions meet Tom Bombadil in the first book of The Lord of the Rings. After 3 days of travel and avoiding the terrifying ringwraiths, plus an afternoon of getting lost and soporific in the grips of the Old Forest, running into this jolly singing fearless fellow with his big blue yellow boots is quite the relief--for the reader let alone for the traveling hobbits. That first dinner with Tom and his lady Goldberry is described in simple terms: "It was a long and merry meal. Though the hobbits ate, as only famished hobbits can eat, there was no lack. The drink in their drinking-bowls seemed to be clear cold water, yet it went to their hearts like wine and set free their voices."
When I remember, I like to have a Tom & Goldberry feast on this day. Tolkien lets us imagine what might have been served. I like to think that thick bread, smoky sausages, abundant tomatoes, and rustic cheeses were involved. Here's the best we could do this year:
Bread & butter, cheese & sausages, wine and apple juice, and Israeli couscous salad (!)
I took several versions of this photo before I read about the drinking bowls, so I reset with bowls instead of glasses. That's a bowl of wine on the bottom left. Our bigger kid thought drinking juice from a bowl was great.
Today we went for a walk in the woods--the same place I described in August 2008 (with photos of newts!). This time it was so damp that we immediately decided we would have a "Fungus Walk" and try to find as many interesting and lovely fungi as possible. Here are just a few photos. (We also saw SIX newts. It was awesome.)
This guy was growing in a rotten tree that had been cut into sections, one left standing upright. I love the wood grain background.
Can fungus be "snuggly"?
Lovely and strange
There was more of this log, all covered with clusters.
Some kind of shelf fungus took over this log.
These are in a part of the woods where there are a lot of "twins"--twin toadstools more temporary than twin birches.
Super-super-beautiful (I was just reading about Jean-Paul Gaultier who says that all the time)
September days have a special luminousness like no other month's. The long-slanting late summer light imparts a certain glow to every object. High clear skies seem a richer blue. The air is crisp and focused, not the lazy splat of high summer humidity. Some September days become pure magic and instantly memorable just for their September-ness.
That's how I felt on our Sunday apple-picking trip to Cortland Hill Orchard on Bonnyvale Road in Brattleboro. I don't think I'll ever forget the look of the quiet orchard at the top of the hill, each tree bright and solid against the amazing deep blue sky, each branch from crown to ground clustered with powdery red Cortland apples, perfect picking for any sized person--even the very littlest. For only seven dollars we brought home half a peck of red-cheeked Cortlands, pretty much the best apple I have ever tasted. (It helps that we picked them ourselves on a perfect day, that adds an extra taste you can never find at the stand or the store.)
A lot has changed lately, some great and some scary.
On the great side, I got a new job that starts tomorrow. I'm so excited about it. It's going to rock.
On the scary side, our sweet little state of Vermont was smacked by the remnants of Hurricane Irene (she was a tropical storm by the time she hit us and filled up all the little brooks to become raging flooding maniacs). Our town has come out OK, though some businesses, homes and roads were hit hard. The state is cleaning up, digging out, rebuilding, and keeping chins up.
Also, girl-child started kindergarten. That is very cool and she seems to love it. If she is anything like me she will adore school for many years.
I've been cooking plenty of good things, including freaking amazing milk-braised pork chops that we had with local sauerkraut and mashed potatoes.
With everything going on I just haven't had time to write a blog post lately. That's a shame, so I'm kickstarting myself with a photo essay about this morning.
Did you know that today, September 11, is Grandparent's Day? Our children are playing at their grandparents' right this minute (thanks J&J!). Also, it's the day my parents first met and started to fall in love. Also, I'm pretty sure a certain little girl in England is turning 5 today. There's plenty of light and life on this day, or any day, if we look for it.
I feel that most who know the name John Held Jr. will think of his illustrations of flappers on the cover of the Life magazine, the stick-skinny girls with the knobby knees and droopy stockings, possibly lounging about, possibly necking or dancing with round-headed guys sporting gigantic trousers. (See the slide show below.) Also maybe you, like me, enjoyed those Time-Life This Fabulous Century books at the library that cover the first six decades of the 20th century (and have a different groovy fabric on the cover of each), and have noticed that the volume on the twenties is chock full of John Held Jr.
(I do have a major nostalgia problem and am wistful for eras I have never seen, the twenties being one of them.)
Anyway, where I first got to know John Held Jr was not as Illustrator of the Jazz Age, but as the guy who did those funny old-timey engravings during the infancy of the New Yorker magazine. Perhaps strangely, from an early age I loved poring over collected New Yorker cartoons, preferring especially a volume called The New Yorker Twenty-Fifth Anniversary Album 1925-1950, which I pretty much have memorized. (When Steve from the used section of the Harvard Book Store gave me a great quality hardcover version for my birthday, I was really really touched. Thank you Steve. That was an amazing, insightful gift.) I particularly liked John Held Jr’s odd choices of subject matter in his engravings, and I am tickled by the engraved captions he added to all. Some of these strike me as some of the best sign-offs ever.
Years later, I now have access to the complete collected cartoons of the New Yorker (isn’t being an adult amazing? And... technology?) So I ran a search on John Held Jr., and found he published many engravings (or maybe some are drawings that look like engravings) in that magazine between 1925 and 1932. Then either my computer froze up or he didn’t publish any more. I find myself wondering now about John Held Jr’s own interest in nostalgia. According to a 1966 Playboy article about Held, nostalgia was big in the 20s. Most of his engraved depictions seem to be olde tymey made-up scenes from the previous century, maybe around the time of Held’s birth (he lived from January 10, 1889 to March 2, 1958). I’m thinking the 1880s didn’t seem so long ago to him, maybe he could still find little pockets of old-fashionedness even in the blazing New York of the 20s. It was only 40-odd years before after all. I do my own math like that sometimes, thinking that the 20s were only 50-odd years before I was born, and if I look hard enough at old drawings and peep into enough old books and listen to enough 78s, perhaps I can grasp a tiny bit of what it was like.
I think these clever engravings should be considered as important a part of Held’s ouevre as the flapper/sheikh stuff. According to that Playboy article, Held’s very first art sale was an engraving, and his father was an engraver. I’m sure there’s a whole dissertation there about modes of expressing contemporaneous interest in the fairly recent past.
Here's a list! Some of my favorite captions from the engravings are transcribed below. You'll have to imagine the images that go with because I don't dare post screenshots. The date given is the New Yorker publication date. Held mostly engraved in capital letters so I use caps where he does.
A CHILD OF THE CIRCUS ENGRAVED WITH PATHOS BY JOHN HELD JR. 11/7/25
The STREET SWEEPER'S CHRISTMAS A LOVELY ENGRAVING BY JOHN HELD JR 12/12/25
ROLLING YE LOG AT YE COFFEE HOUSE CLUB ENGRAVED IN GOOD FUN BY JOHN HELD JR 2/13/26
WHISKER INSPECTION AT THE CENTURY CLUB INDEED A QUAINT OLD ENGRAVING BY JOHN HELD JR (2/27/26)
THE CLOWN WITH A BROKEN HEART ENGRAVED BY JOHN HELD JR AND NICELY TOO 4/17/26
DANCING ON NOTHING ENGRAVED WITH A LAUGH AND A SOB BY JOHN HELD JR 5/1/26
A POLICEMANS BEST FRIEND IS HIS HORSE ENGRAVED BY JOHN HELD JR WHO IS VERY FOND OF ANIMALS 10/2/26
The DEAR DEAD DAYS WHEN THE WAITERS AT BILLIES SANG "MY ROSARY" ENG. BY JOHN HELD JR WITH A LUMP IN HIS THROAT 10/23/26
The DEAR DEAD DAYS WHEN A GIRL DRANK BEER AND LIKED IT ENG BY JOHN HELD JR WITH THE LAUGH ON THE OTHER SIDE OF HIS FACE 10/30/26
The CURSE OF THE OPERA HOUSE "MAY ALL YOUR CHILDREN BE ACROBATS" ENGRAVED BY JOHN HELD JR AND SUCH AN ENGRAVING OH MY 11/6/26
THE MAN WHO SOUNDED AN R in the HARVARD CLUB A RIGHT TONEY ENGRAVING BY JOHN HELD JR 2/19/27 (this one shows some angry fellows shooting another guy)
A SONG FROM THE DEAR DIM PAST "YES, WE HAVE NO BANANAS WE HAVE NO BANANAS TODAY." ENG. BY JOHN HELD JR AND HOW CAN YOU STOP HIM 5/12/28
SHE'S ONLY A LASSIE WHO VENTURED ON LIFE'S STORMY PATH ILL-ADVISED ENG. BY JOHN HELD JR WITH A HEART FULL OF PITY 7/28/28
BUT THAT DIRTY LITTLE COWARD, THAT SHOT MR. HOWARD, HAS LAID POOR JESSE IN HIS GRAVE AMERICAN FOLKSONG ENG. BY JOHN HELD JR. WITH A HI AND A HO 9/29/28
TINY GARMENTS ENGRAVED BY THAT SENIMENTAL OLD CODGER, JOHN HELD JR (sic) 11/10/28
MID CAMP FIRES GLEAMING MID SHOT AND SHELL I WILL BE DREAMING OF MY OWN BLUEBELL A GRAND OLD ENGRAVING BY A GRAND OLD ENGRAVER J. HELD JR 12/8/28
A DAINTY NECESSITY IN MI-LADY'S LINGERIE The CORSET COVER ENGRAVED BY JOHN HELD JR WITH A TOSS OF THE HEAD 12/28/29
VIRTUE'S DEFENCE THE HAT PIN ENG. BY JOHN HELD JR. AS HE CHOKES BACK HIS TRUE FEELINGS 2/8/30
The SECRET POCKET IN THE PETTISKIRT OH MEMORY SO CRUEL, SO BITTER ENG. BY JOHN HELD JR WHO NEVER TOOK A LESSON IN HIS LIFE 2/22/30
DREAM GIRLS of a DIM DECADE SEVEN SUTHERLAND SISTERS ENG. BY JOHN HELD JR SINGER OF OLD SONGS 3/15/30
WHEN THE THEATRE WAS FRAUGHT with ROMANCE THE STARTLING INNOVATION OF THE MAGIC-LANTERN SLIDE IN CONJUNCTION WITH THE SERPENTINE DANCE ENGRAVED BY JOHN HELD JR WHO IS GAME TO THE CORE 11/8/30
WHEN THE THEATRE WAS FRAUGHT with ROMANCE The Thought is born of the FORM DIVINE ENGRAVED BY JOHN HELD JR ADELVING INTO YESTERYEAR 11/29/30
WHEN THE THEATRE WAS FRAUGHT WITH ROMANCE THE SOUBRETTE SINGS A RACY SONG TO THE MAN IN THE BOX ENG BY JOHN HELD JR WHO DEAR TO HIS HEART ARE THE SCENES OF HIS CHILDHOOD 1/10/31
WHEN THE THEATRE WAS FRAUGHT with ROMANCE THE CHERRY SISTERS ENGRAVED BY JOHN HELD JR Who Is a SLY ELF 2/7/31
WHEN THE THEATRE WAS FRAUGHT WITH ROMANCE MRS. LESLIE CARTER IN "THE HEART OF MARYLAND" ENGRAVED BY JOHN HELD JR WHO DOESN'T REMEMBER VERY WELL. 5/9/31
WHEN FASHION WAS FRAUGHT WITH ROMANCE The HORRIBLE SKIRT ENG. BY JOHN HELD JR A SCAMP IF THERE EVER WAS ONE 8/15/31
The ZENITH OF REFINED ELEGANCE THE MOUSTACHE CUP A JOHN HELD JR. ENGRAVING, ENGRAVED BY JOHN HELD JR UNDER The PERSONAL SUPERVISION of JOHN HELD JR 9/12/31
WHEN THE THEATRE WAS FRAUGHT WITH ROMANCE BEN-HUR AND THE WHITE HORSES ALWAYS WIN ENGRAVED BY JOHN HELD JR WHO SOMETIMES WONDERS WHAT ITS ALL ABOUT 9/26/31
WOOD-CUT MEMOIRS OF LITTLE OLDE NEW YORK FINE FEATHERS MAKE FINE BIRDS IN the WALDORF ASTORIA PEACOCK ALLEY ENGRAVED BY JOHN HELD JR WHO BOWS HIS HEAD TO NO MASTER 10/17/31
The RED HOT PAST THE SOUVENIR GARTER WITH THE WITTY MOTTO ENGRAVED BY JOHN HELD JR WHO IS ALWAYS UP TO MISCHIEF 4/23/32 (the garter says "I LOVE MY WIFE BUT OH YOU KID")
The RED HOT PAST SOUVENIRS FROM GAY PAREE ENGRAVED BY JOHN HELD JR WHO A LITTLE OF GOES A LONG WAYS 6/4/32
The RED HOT PAST A DAINTY REQUISITE OF MILADY'S TERLET--THE RAT ENGRAVED BY JOHN HELD JR. THE "IT" MAN OF WOODCUTS 9/17/32 (this shows a lady at her toilet--that is sitting in front of mirror--holding the type of "rat" that makes hair look more bouffant)
Sometimes we have too much milk in the house. When that happens, one solution is to make ice cream. Soon I'm going to try yogurt. I've also made fresh mozzarella. But this time, I decided to make ricotta cheese. A big batch of ricotta would help me use up a whole gallon of milk. (Whole milk, too.) Here's all you need for the project--Ricki's Cheesemaking Kit.
This kit is pretty simple--comes with muslin (better than cheesecloth because it's a finer weave), rennet, citric acid, cheese salt, a thermometer and an instruction book. Sure you could probably find all those things separately for less money, but would you? I've had this cute kit for at least a couple of years and it still works fine. (I keep the rennet in the freezer.)
So to make ricotta, you heat a gallon of milk up to 195˚F while stirring it pretty much constantly. Also, you add citric acid. This serves to break up the protein from the liquid (which becomes whey). The protein gets strained out as cheese, and you have a whole mess of whey left over. Apparently you can get the same effect from lemon juice--see this Smitten Kitchen post for a description (and pretty pictures). I also used Smitten Kitchen's idea of adding some heavy cream for texture. I had half a pint kicking around. From... making ice cream.
Heating a gallon of milk slowly so it doesn't burn takes forever. Or put another way, at least half an episode of Sherlock. Then you turn off the heat and let it sit, then ladle the curds into the cheesecloth to strain.
Here is my straining system. It's hard to see, but I rigged up a figure-eight of two rubber bands to hold the handle and end of the strainer firm so it wouldn't slide back down into the bowl. I left it overnight to strain. (Refrigerated, of course.)
Here's how it looked inside the cheesecloth. It's a lot more compact and drier than commercial ricotta. It's more cheese-like. However it crumbles up fine and tastes pretty delicious. Like the essence of milk and cream, distilled and cheesified.
The first thing I made with my homemade ricotta was a batch of canneloni, our family's meaty-cheesy-tomatoey alternative to lasagna. Delicious. But I still had half the ricotta left. For this I wanted to try some sweet application. Crepes maybe? Then I saw an episode of No Reservations where Anthony Bourdain travels to Sicily. Guess what they invented there that uses sweetened ricotta?
Cannoli
I have never seen The Godfather so don't worry about mob-ilicious cannoli quotes. All I want is to use this lovely ricotta before it goes bad. Since it was kind of dry, I smashed it all up and moistened with a bit of milk. Then I sprinkled on white sugar and added a glug of vanilla. Stirred it all together and tasted--great! I stuffed it into one of my super-handy disposable piping bags and stashed it in the fridge. I bought 6 cannoli shells at the super market. I dug out some OLD cherries from the back of the fridge. Now I can pipe my own cannoli any time, man.
Cherries so old the label fell off. Piping bag full of sweetened ricotta.
Shells at the ready!
Piping action shot!
Piped not quite full. (I want the cheese to last for all 6 shells...)
I don't have pistachio nuts so I settled for chopped walnuts. I am not a purist. Cherry at either end.
Bonus: The picky eater likes these! I pipe her one every day for dessert. And then I eat one myself. TASTY.
Next time we have too much milk I'm thinking corn chowder.
I just learned on Friday (by listening to NPR's Fresh Air with Terry Gross, which is pretty much how I learn everything these days) that Andy Serkis, of Gollum fame, played Ian Dury in a movie called Sex & Drugs & Rock & Roll. I also learned that Ian Dury had polio and the right side of his body was strong and energetic while the left side couldn't do much, so he would propel himself about the stage leading from the right. This sounds like a good role for Andy Serkis as he is so good at conveying acting through sheer physicality. Like being all the movements for Gollum through motion capture technology, while never actually appearing on film.
Then later in the morning iTunes randomly picked Perro Loco by Forro in the Dark, which is pretty much my Song of the Week right now. It keeps getting stuck in my head. The song reminds me a little of Ian Dury now that I listen to it. It is so peppy and saxophony and makes me want to pogo.
It also makes me think of the Young Ones and Alexei Sayle hopping about with that goofy look and his Dr. Martens. (Pull the playhead up to about 1:08 for the crazy dance.)
One more thought about the Young Ones, did you know that Vyvyan is married to Jennifer Saunders? Well actually Vyvyan is called Adrian Edmondson, he's the one who's married to Jennifer Saunders. I like to think of Vyvyan and Edina at home together. Actually I more like to think how Patsy or Rik might be appalled by their relationship.
Lately I just focus on a single ingredient, and let the rest of a dish come together any which way. For example, quinoa salad. I cooked up a bunch of quinoa in some water leftover from steaming beets and sweet potatoes. It came out kind of pinkish! Then I doused it with lemon juice and olive oil while still warm, and let it cool for a day--just cuz. Later, I added chopped up bits of random refrigerated items:
pieces of roasted red pepper in jar
leftover bell pepper
kalamata olives, chopped
chopped up celery sticks, at least 2 weeks old (kept them in water)
tablespoon of artichoke hearts, leftover
I also threw in random herbs from garden, harvested with headlamp at 9pm and chopped fine:
chives
winter savory
rosemary
thyme
Salt & pepper were added, of course.
Right before serving, I threw on a handful on raw pepitas (pumpkin seeds), as I'd been reading about their health benefits. Delicious!
But is that a recipe? It seems pretty off the cuff, pretty random. It's a riff. If I had different things in the fridge--cucumbers or parsley or capers for example--I would have made a different salad. I like that. Being able to riff takes the pressure off. I don't need to be super-prepared or make big lists. I'm trying to do this with as much of my food-prep as possible! (I guess I always have, but this one was a revelation because I got rid of five containers that had been cluttering up the fridge with little bits of leftover stuff. FIVE!)
By the way, here are some other cold salads we've enjoyed lately:
Farmer's market green salad, with added kalamata olives & crumbled feta. I did not make this one because I dislike washing lettuce.
Steamed beets with sliced caper berries, lots of feta and cucumber slices
What riffs have you been working lately? What about cold salads? Do you put feta on everything too?
Last year Anthony Bourdain, who I felt very very strongly about (in the positive) at the time, held a writing contest. The theme was something like "How to Cook Well." I toyed with the idea of entering, but with a new baby in the house and low energy for anything but family, I never got around to it. I did jot down some notes during one late-night feeding though. Here they are.
My mise en place is set in small glass dishes. Tiny tomatoes from the farmer's market, rinsed. Parsley that could not be more local--I can see its terroir from the door. Organic chicken from some happy free-range farm. Lemon reamed on a vintage glass juicer. French feta, crumbled. The pasta is already cooked, cooled and coated with good olive oil. It's time to cook.
What I'm making is orzo and chicken salad with lemon dressing. The chicken: tender and be-garlicked. The dressing: cool kisses of lemon. When it's plated and done, I set it before the clients and watch. The guy with the beard likes it--he digs in. The one who is four, not so much. In fact, she hates it on sight. But it doesn't matter, I'm not hurt. I sit down to eat with them because when I cook for this family, I'm the best. I'm in the zone. They eat my "overcaramelized" (some might say "burned") Kouign Amann. They groan in appreciation at the crockpot chili (secret ingredient: bacon grease). They accept my incessant Vinho Verde or $4.99 Beaujolais pairings. (OK, only the adults get wine.) In turn, I try to remember their tastes and foibles. Eggplant is off the menu. Sectioned plates with discrete, not-touching foods are a must for madamoiselle. No matter how carefully I've seasoned something according to the recipe or my imaginings, I should always be prepared for clients to slather on tamari or hot sauce or ketchup. I stick to my standards and roll with it at the same time. That's cooking.
