cook pot stories

Last week I told you about the launch of The Cookbook Project, an attempt to use the resources in front of me to help rediscover my love of cooking four years after Kevin's death. This week I'd like to talk about one cuisine that is many and an old friend of a cookbook, then next week we will venture into a recipe together. It may sound a little slow, but I'm hoping each post will evoke memories and curiosity beyond the mechanics of cooking. This blog is about stories as well as food,  after all. I don't remember when I first had Indian food. I know by the time I had graduated college it was a big part of my gustatory life. My friends and I frequented a restaurant called Ghandi in Central Square, Cambridge, Massachusetts (long since closed). We went so often that the proprietors worried when we skipped a week. Each time when we walked in, an aroma spicy complexity would surround us and we took pride in consuming the fieriest food they would provide. Eventually I no...

Boy, it's been awhile since I posted here. It's taken me almost four years from Kevin's death to relish cooking again. This renewed enjoyment is in no small part because I've moved in with Charley, my chapter two (a common term in the widowed community for the love who comes after the love who died), and cooking for him is reminding me of how much I enjoy it. At first I cooked the things I know how to make. Simple stuff mostly, like roasted chicken, stew, or soup. In the last few months, however, I've started wanting to expand my repertoire. I don't have the cooking skills I used to; my sense of seasoning isn't the same since Kevin got sick, so I rely on recipes more. Mostly I go online and find something that looks interesting, but online recipes aren't always tried and tested plus it becomes a rabbit hole and by the time I find a recipe I find intriguing the desire to cook may have passed. Knowing this, I began to think about how I could cook with ...

Really. I'm not kidding. I recently took a three-day road trip from Kansas City to Boston. When I take long drives like this I try to stop at interesting places along the way, though my desire to stop is balanced by my need to get where I'm going. In the past I have seen amazing outsider art , giant muffler men and had some wonderful (and terrible) local cuisine. This time, I stopped at Marlene's Restaurant and Crane's Country Store in Williamsburg, MO . It's a tiny town with a closed museum and a historical road. The restaurant is housed in the same building as a sweet little museum and an antique shop. The antique shop is more of a thrift store, but there were hidden treasures, among them this: As you know, I love cookbooks, especially old quirky ones. How could I resist? At first glance it's a typical 1940's era cooking pamphlet, full of recipes and advice for the modern housewife.  On a  closer perusal I found this: It’s ...

So, it snowed last night in Kansas City. In May. It was actually quite beautiful, the new green leaves shaking off the rapidly accumulating snow. I thought the trees looked like teenagers, offended that they were cold but not quite willing to do anything about it. I know. these late snowfalls are harmful to the new growth, but really, I'm sure you can imagine what I mean. My response to unexpected cold weather is predictable. I make soup. I'd already been planning to make french onion soup last night, the snow just made it all the more appropriate. I love french onion soup, it's my go-to choice in many restaurants. I'd never made it before and decided this would be a good time, since soon it will be too warm for the long cooking process and, besides, I had some great beef stock in the freezer. I used the recipe in Julia Child's classic, Mastering the Art of French Cooking . It's clear, simple and really, really good. Because this is a story blog as well ...

I love my new kitchen. It's an efficient space, not too big but with adequate counters and storage. As we settle into our new home I am becoming more and more enamored with cooking in this space. I'm (finally) using my cookbooks again and taking advantage of the riches around me. Tonight I pulled out the old, deep frying pan used by my grandmother who gave to my mother who gave it to me. It's the first time I've used this pan. I wanted to honor our Hungarian and Russian heritage, so I made chicken paprika. I modified a recipe from The World's Finest Chicken by Sonia Slyer and Janice Metcalfe. It's a nice cookbook, with easy recipes using stuff you'd generally have on hand, making very tasty food. Being who I am (and really, any decent home cook does this) I tweaked the recipe. Saute one large, chopped onion in olive oil. As I poured the oil in I couldn't help but wonder if my grandmother used anything other than schmaltz and Crisco. As the o...

As you know, I've decided to give some things away. You've always wanted to know how to make a Hot House, right? (It's limburger cheese with butter on toast.) How about Pumpkin and Cheese pie? Or Flamenco Veal Chops? All of these recipes and more are in this set of cookbooks. As you may know, I've been helping a friend clean out his mom's house . We've found quite a few amazing things there, including a trove of cookbooks. She enjoyed cooking in her younger days and would pick up every free cooking pamphlet she could find. I love cookbooks and so have taken many of them for my own collection. There is no way I will ever use all the cookbooks I have. This selection of cookbooks is from my friend's mom. You might enjoy the recipes, you might enjoy the astonishing 1960s and 1970s illustrations. I can't wait to see how dated our 2011 graphics look in 40 years. This package includes: 100 Ways to Be Original In All Your Cooking (by Lea & Perri...

I love cookbooks. As you can see, I buy far more cookbooks than my life realistically needs. I read them, ponder the recipes and commentary and consider their cultural context with great joy; when I find scribbled notes beside recipes or scraps of paper in used volumes it thrills me. What I don't tend to do is cook from them. This strikes me as kind of silly, a waste of paper and space. It's time to change that. I'm going to explore some of these volumes, especially the older, odder ones, and record my adventures here. I look forward to some gloriously unpleasant dishes (because our gastronomic sensibilities in 2010 are not the same as they were in the 1940s - who boils broccoli for 30 minutes anymore?) and some gems. I hope you'll keep me company on the journey and let me know what you think. I'd like to thank my step-daughter, Cara , for the off-handed remark that led to this idea. To start, let's take a look at my bookshelves. For a librarian's daught...