Our Project Wedding
Meanwhile, our Chewish wedding is having its second fifteen minutes of fame as the featured real wedding on Project Wedding this week. Check it out here. Read more...
I'm reading Anthony Bourdain's Medium Raw right now on my Kindle for iPhone, and in an essay called "Virtue," he argues that "basic cooking skills are a virtue, that the ability to feed yourself and a few others with proficiency should be taught to every young man and woman as a fundamental skill."
He suggests that every young man and woman should know how to perform the following tasks "in order to feel complete":
They should know how to chop an onion. Basic knife skills should be a must. Without that, we are nothing, castaways with a can – but no can-opener. Useless. Everything begins with some baseline with a sharp-bladed object, enough familiarity with such a thing to get the job done without injury. So, basic knife handling, sharpening, and maintenance, along with rudimentary but effective dicing, mincing, and slicing. Nothing too serious. Just enough facility with a knife to be on par with any Sicilian grandmother.
Everyone should be able to make an omelette. Egg cookery is as good a beginning as any, as it’s the first meal of the day, and because the process of learning to make an omelette is, I believe, not just a technique but a builder of character. One learns, necessarily, to be gentle when acquiring omelette skills: a certain measure of sensitivity is needed to discern what’s going on in your pan – and what to do about it.
I have long believed that it is only right and appropriate that before one sleeps with someone, one should be able – if called upon to do so – to make them a proper omelette in the morning. Surely that kind of civility and selflessness would be both good manners and good for the world. Perhaps omelette skills should be learned at the same time you learn to fuck. Perhaps there should be an unspoken agreement that in the event of the loss of virginity, the more experienced of the partners should, afterward, make the other an omelette – passing along the skill at an important and presumably memorable moment.
Everyone should be able to roast a chicken. And they should be able to do it well.
Given the current woeful state of backyard grilling, a priority should be assigned to instructing people on the correct way to grill and rest a steak. We have, as a nation, suffered the tyranny of inept steak cookery for far too long. There’s no reason that generation after generation of families should continue to pass along a tradition of massacring perfectly good meat in their kitchens and backyards.
Cooking vegetables to a desired doneness is easy enough and reasonable to expect of any citizen of voting age.
A standard vinaigrette is something that anyone can and should be able to do.
The ability to shop for fresh produce and have at least some sense of what’s in season, to tell whether or not something is ripe or rotten might be acquired at the same time as one’s driving licence.
How to recognise a fish that’s fresh and how to clean and fillet it would seem a no-brainer as a basic survival skill in an ever more uncertain world.
Steaming a lobster or a crab – or a pot of mussels or clams – is something a fairly bright chimp could do without difficulty, so there’s no reason we all can’t.
Every citizen should know how to throw a piece of meat in the oven with the expectation that they might roast it to somewhere in the neighbourhood of desired doneness – and without a thermometer.
One should be able to roast and mash potatoes. And make rice – both steamed and the only slightly more difficult pilaf method.
The fundamentals of braising would serve all who learn them well – as simply learning how to make beef bourguignon opens the door to countless other preparations.
What to do with bones (namely, make stock) and how to make a few soups – as a means of making efficient use of leftovers – is a lesson in frugality many will very possibly to learn at some point in their lives. It would seem wise to learn earlier rather than later.
Everyone should be encouraged at every turn to develop their own modest yet unique repertoire – to find a few dishes they love and practice at preparing them until they are proud of the result. To either respect in this way their own past – or express through cooking their dreams for the future. Every citizen would thus have their own speciality.
Though I'm a bit of a teetotaler, my husband loves nothing more than to entertain our friends with weird alcoholic concoctions. The guy took one semester's worth of the Harvard bartending course, and he's a master mixologist in his own mind.
Marin Bar Cabinet |
Apartment Therapy |
The New York Times and I are totally on the same wave length. Days after I made beer can chicken, it publishes a new recipe for a spice-rubbed, mayonaise-slathered version.
Image Source: NY Times |
My farmhouse bacon cheese burger from Good Stuff Eatery in DC.
As you might remember, my niece was born last week. And in honor of her arrival, I wanted to make something nearly as sweet and delicious as her.
The Kitchn came to the rescue with a caramel banana cake that is just to die for. The result is a gooey, delectable heaven of a dessert that's as much pudding as cake. The caramel adds an unexpectedly sophisticated, smoky taste that pairs really well with the fragrance and sweetness of banana.
Here's the text message convo my husband and I had Friday afternoon:
Me: "I just stuck a can of soda up a chicken's ass and grilled it."
Husband: "Not sure what that means, but whatever turns you on."You know what turns me on? A perfectly roasted chicken, crispy on the outside, flavorful and oh-so-very juicy on the inside . . . cooked without my having to turn on the oven. (Cue the food porn music.)
The other day I asked for some help in getting rid of my summer squash, and I received so many delicious ideas. Apparently, I'm not the only one overwhelmed by summer squash, because summer squash is also the focus of Food 52's challenge this week.
Here are a few of the recipes I'm eager to try:
Zuccaghetti |
Lemon Basil Roasted Summer Squash with Garlic Crisp |
Honey Balsamic Grilled Zucchini with Avocado and Feta |
* I had two movies playing in my head last night when I made this pie. I figured it's my blog, so why do I have to choose which one to allude to in the title?!
I had quite a bit of buttermilk leftover from the scallion biscuits I made last week, and since I have a compulsive need to not waste food, I had to find something to do with the rest of the it. Also in my refrigerator was half a carton of whipping cream, a bit of ricotta, a container of blue berries from the farm share, and an open container of maple syrup.
So made a maple buttermilk pie.
When we joined the Stillman's Farm CSA this season, I had lovely illusions of the glorious, farm-fresh vegetables that I was going to incorporate -- to great success, of course -- in all of my cooking.
But we weren't at all prepared for the reality of getting weekly a mystery box of unlabeled greens, dirt-encrusted beets, and seemingly inexhaustible supply of summer squash. In fact, when my husband first picked up the box, he declared its contents "nasty" and shoved all of it into the fridge. Then again, he eats Hot Pockets for breakfast, so he's really not the arbiter of what constitutes gorgeous, fresh produce.
So for the last few weeks, I've been scouring my brain and the internet for ways to use the mystery box veggies to make tasty dishes that even Hot Pocket Man will want to eat. Here are three preparations I'm currently digging (get it? digging? hah!).
If you ever wanted to know what it's like to careen down a Chinese hillside in an out-of-control, never-safety-checked contraption or to enjoy Mr. Cao's camel, you have to check out my sister's hilarious account of her trip to the Great Wall.
Image Source: I Eat Therefore I Am |
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