cook pot stories

There is a popular fairy tale from the Brothers Grimm that tells of a soldier, on his way home from war, who stops in a village and asks the townspeople for a bite to eat. They all refuse to share anything with him though they clearly have plenty. He is a wily man, so in his desperation he finds an old pot, builds a fire in the middle of the town square and heats the pot filled only with water and a stone. One by one the townspeople who had refused him come by to see what he’s doing; he tells them he’s making stone soup, the most delicious soup in the world. None of them want to admit they’ve never heard of it so all agree that yes, stone soup is exquisite. For every visitor who agrees with him he then sighs and says that his stone soup would be better still if only he had some carrots. Or cabbage. Or onions. Or… And one by one each of the villagers says that they have carrots. Or cabbage. Or onions. Or… They run back to home to fetch their ingredients for the pot. By the end the whole...

Before I go any further in this post, I need to tell you that the name is borrowed from a wonderful creative space in Jamaica Plain, Massachusetts. Spontaneous Celebrations is a multicultural home for art and creativity. Check it out. My own spontaneous celebration happened this weekend. I believe it's important to live big, but know it's hard to do so; this weekend was a good example of the weekend conspiring to help me. I've blogged about the weekend as a whole in True Stories, Honest Lies . On Saturday my friend Serene called and asked if we would like to have dinner with her husband and herself. For once we could easily say yes and invited them for dinner. My initial thought was to order something in, but it's hard to eat healthy food when it's delivered. It is, at best, quick food . So I decided to cook. I wanted to use what I had in the house as much as possible, and I admit, I got a little excited. The first course: - dried apricots with a dab of chevre and ...

I should have taken a picture, but I didn't, so you'll just have to take my word for it. I made the best pork roast last night. It looked as good as it tasted. And I used herbs from the garden! I don't know how much the roast weighed, so you'll have to improvise. Take 1 boneless pork roast, the kind that's tied with string. It should have some fat on at least one side. Rub the inside (between the two halves) with a mixture of salt, pepper and a little sugar. Peel and roughly slice an entire head of garlic. If your fingers are garlicky afterwards you can always rinse them in lemon juice, that helps. Tuck maybe 12 pieces of garlic, four rosemary sprigs and at least four sage leaves into the roast, between the two halves. It will look nice if a little of the rosemary is sticking out. Preheat the oven to 450. Poke at least 15 holes in the less fatty side of the roast. Shove a garlic slice into each hole. Rub this side with the salt, pepper and sugar blend. Pull a rosema...

I had a luxurious weekend. My friend Amy visited from the wilds of Maine and requested, nay demanded Chinese food. We met in Chinatown and began to eat our way into oblivion. We had lunch at Peach Farm , a restaurant with great food and the ambiance of a speak easy. It's a basement locale with no windows, some mirrors to lighten the space and formica tables. But the food.... oh, the food. We shared spicy salted shrimp with heads (they had been alive ten minutes before we ate them) and green beans with pork. The shrimp were oh-my-god-I'm-in-heaven good. They were crisp on the outside, succulent on the inside. Each one was a pink crunch of crispy sharpness in my mouth, followed by sweet and saltiness. Some people are put off by eating them with heads, but really they are the best part. Crunchy and flavorful. They looked something like this. The string bean with shredded pork was a wonderful accompaniment and allowed us to pretend we were eating something healthy. It was at least ...

you scream, we all scream for ice cream. Last night I went to Toscanini 's for a storytelling event. While I listened to some good tales I had one of my favorite decadent ice creams - butter chip. No, it doesn't have chips of frozen butter. Well, kind of no. Let me start at the beginning. Tosci's makes luscious ice cream. The building is cool and hip, it doesn't smell too sweet as do many ice cream places, the music is good and the furniture is comfortable. And did I mention the ice cream is out of this world? They used to make my favorite ice cream topping in the world, burnt caramel sauce, but not anymore, oh well. I still go for the 'scream. Their flavor selection changes regularly, but they often have some kind of spiced ice cream (cinammon, cardamon, etc) some kind of beer ice cream (Guinness) and all the standards. It's very rich and creamy, just the way ice cream should be. Except for butter chip. Imagine the best chocolate chip ice cream you've ever ...

I started this blog thinking I would write about transcendent food. I'm finding myself writing about comfort. About history. About the meaning of what I eat. And so often what is meaningful seems to be what isn't quite healthy. What that says about me may be transparent but I'll choose not to investigate it. I was in Philadelphia this past weekend, helping out a friend. I grew up in Philly, though I left 20 years ago. It's a city with a distinct cuisine, one I miss even though I have certainly embraced the cuisines I've moved to. Steak sandwiches. Soft pretzels. Hoagies (no, not subs or grinders or heroes. Hoagies). This is the local food of my hometown. Sure, you can get a steak or a hoagie anywhere. But it's not the same. Maybe it's the air, the water, the accent of the cook. I don't know. But local foods - should I say regional foods instead? - need local flavor to taste right. A steak anywhere else just isn't as good. When I moved to Boston so ma...