With
only a few days left before our son’s wedding, this May Day it only makes sense
for me to send you flowers instead of words. Hopefully these photos will feel
like the childhood May baskets we delighted in running around with to hang on
our neighbor’s doorknobs with ribbon. Then ring the doorbell and run shrieking
with laughter.
If right now you hit the pause
button to even quickly skim back over your life so far, what are the moments you
imagine would rise to the top? I often find myself compelled to ask that
question at the beginning of each class, because considering what matters most
in any given situation is always so illuminating. And the answers students share around my kitchen table keep confirming the fact that for most of us,
it’s the simple, timeless things that continue to offer true happiness and
contentment. Things more fundamental than flashy.And I can’t help loving how often these cherished
life highlights involve
cooking and eating together, both of which remain at the heart of le joie de vivre.
'Tis the day after Christmas, if that's what you celebrate, and even if you don't, the New Year is still less than a week away. One way or another, we've all made it this far. But it's only natural for survivors to wash up on shore feeling as exhausted as we are grateful. So before you start polishing the spots off your champagne flutes, why not find a way to get back some of your own inherent sparkle...
Today is the fifth anniversary of Come Home to Cooking. So I am encouraged to take a good look both back and forward at what all these years can bring to the table. Having recently spent the afternoon with a group of lively and generous-spirited hard core cooking students, listening to them banter about which class or recipe has been the best so far, I was filled with satisfying delight at all they have and do offer me in return. And I was also inspired to wonder, once again, what it is that each individual class participant might find most worth taking home with them...
Because my husband and I most often prefer to come and stay home to cooking, when we do decide to go out to eating, we are usually seeking a particular experience not as easily provided by ourselves at home. That could mean authentic regional street food, an impeccably fresh sushi bar, a parade of dim sum, that table overlooking the water, great people watching, someone else who knows how I like my espresso pulled and dosed, specific ingredients we can't easily source, a signature house specialty I never plan to try duplicating, or an opportunity for us both to get to relax together on the receiving end of an inspired dining experience. And that was certainly what we had in mind last week when we eagerly headed off to celebrate our forty-first wedding anniversary at Chez Panisse...
Whenever I ask students what their greatest cooking challenge is, apart from figuring out what to fix for dinner every night, they all seem to agree it's, "the timing!" So that all the parts of any given meal are coordinated to be done at the same moment. That is a tricky business. Even for a practiced hand with years of experience to help guide you through the process. Not to mention all the advantages of a well-eqiupped modern kitchen. But what if you had no refrigeration and only one burner? Think camping without a cooler. You'd be forced to develop a style of cooking and eating that didn't require every dish to be served either piping hot or thoroughly chilled. Or to be ready all at once. And that's exactly what more ancient cultures did and still do, and what many of those handed-down recipes and menus are based on. The advantages in cuisines that were shaped around limitations...
I just finished planting our summer vegetable garden and I am ridiculously proud of it. Feeling both puffed up and deeply satisfied. This is not the acre large plot we cultivated on the farm of our youth, but a small kitchen garden just outside our back door. What the French would call an essential potager. After decades of making it a high priority to squeeze in regular trips to the farmers' market, I had almost forgotten how literally grounding it is to grow something yourself. Even when we're on vacation, just picking up a little pot of herbs to set on that kitchenette counter makes it feel more like we're at home...
It was Sunday afternoon, and we were cooking an early dinner with our son at his house in Berkeley. On our way there, my husband and I had stopped at the Marin farmers' market for our week's produce plus a wild Alaskan king salmon, which he now tended on the deck grill. Max and I were inside throwing together a huge green salad and some farro with braised onions to round things out. Since we'd already spent most of our visit together steeped in photos from Panamaand then walking down the block to pick out a new collar for our family dog, there wasn't much time left before Don and I had to leave for a concert. So we were all jamming around and watching the clock. But our son also had a slab of chateaubriand on hand and the very real need to create other meals for the rest of his busy week ahead...
It's been weeks since we ran outside for that last blaze of sun. On a day more summery than any in July. When it feels like all of nature is awash in autumn candlelight. We sat mesmerized in canvas lounge chairs under the liquid amber trees, trying to hang on to what we knew was a fleeting moment. Balancing BLT lunch plates up under our chins to catch the inevitable dripping ooze of dead ripe tomato juice, fresh basil mayonnaise, and smoky bacon fat. That the toast could only pretend to contain.
This can mean so many things. Before the advent of instant-on switches and more labor-saving kitchen devices than we know what to do with, both good and bad cooks were forced to considerthe power of natural consequences just to make it through their day. To be resourceful and self-reliant. To conserve and preserve. To haul in water and wood. Keep the fire burning and the kettle on. But even though most of us now face a different set of daily challenges, we're all still trying to survive. And learning how to cultivate the essence of these think-ahead, ripple-effect practices can certainly help ease the way. Particularly as we rev up for the holidays.
