cook pot stories

Oh, I love seasonings. It's a bad habit, really, I pick up spices whenever I'm in a shop with ingredients new to me, regardless of whether or not I know what they are or how to use them. I'll close my eyes and luxuriate in the scent of a new blend, the texture on my tongue. I'll imagine how I can use it. Sometimes I'll take the time to look it up, but honestly more often than not I plunge ahead and try it. Often it works. Occasionally it leads to a spectacular failure. When I moved into my current home, I first unpacked my books. Then I unpacked my spices, stacking them and organizing them. Soon my kitchen smelled right, the spice cabinet a chamber of mysteries, unlabeled bottled and bags clustered with store bought tins. The organization quickly fell into a tumble, the most frequently used items eclipsing the others, but I still venture into the cabinet, reach towards the back and find treasure. Every time I open the spice cabinet I imagine I'm an explorer,...

I recently finished reading The Fortune Cookie Chronicles: Adventures in the World of Chinese Food a delightful cross between memoir and food writing that explores the history of Chinese food in America, or more accurately explores Chinese-American food. It was a lot fun, I urge you to read it for yourself.  As you may know, I love Chinese food . I also love fortune cookies . I've been saving fortunes for years and have some really good ones: One year for my birthday I went with friends to a restaurant in Chinatown. My fortune was, "You bring happiness to everyone you meet," while my best friend's fortune read, "Happiness is sitting next to you." She was on my right. No kidding. I've been thinking lately about the signs we look for in everyday life, how those portents can be woven into story and how the yearning for oracles can change the way we see the world. In this vein I conducted an experiment: I spent a day deliberately looking for omens. ...

Happy New Year! I know I'm almost two weeks late with the wish, but it's still kindly meant, so please accept it in the spirit intended. The New Year is a (somewhat arbitrary) time to look at our lives, evaluate and decide what we want to work on in the coming year. For example, I want to post in this blog more often. It's a time full of cultural tradition too, from the ball dropping in Times Square to fireworks to more personal traditions. In my family, I was allowed to stay up to midnight, watch Guy Lombardo and eat smoked oysters. A big treat, really. This year I decided to see in the new year with a broader cultural tradition, enacted late because I rarely pull these things off on time. I made Hoppin' John. This is a southern dish (though I was introduced to it by a Rhode Islander) made of black-eyed peas and ham hocks. It's said if you eat Hoppin' John and corn bread on New Year's Day you'll be prosperous throughout the year - eat poor on New Y...

I'm not dead. I've been blogging up a storm at my other site, truestorieshonestlies , and haven't had the chutzpah to come here too. I miss writing and thinking about food, but haven't been sure of what to say. I'm traveling now, in North Carolina far from my usual New England. My breakfast this morning was of the great American delicacies, biscuits and gravy . For those of you unfamiliar with this fine regional dish, it's sturdy white-flour biscuits covered in white gravy made out of a roux based in sausage fat. The better gravies have bits of sausage suspended in the mess and are a little spicy. It's bound to kill you if eaten too often and utterly delicious. As I was savoring every morsel this morning I got to thinking about other sturdy, regional foods I love. None are healthy, they all are rich, fatty and delicious. Cheesesteak sandwiches like those I grew up with in Philadelphia; fish tacos ; biscuits and gravy; you know the kind of foods I'm talk...

Somedays I love arugula . Other days it just seems harsh and bitter. No metaphor here, move along, this is a food blog, that's all. Today is one of the days where it tastes as though it's biting me back, too tart for my tongue. Other days I love it, the rich, robust earthiness of it. Funny how one day to the next, taste can change. Too, I think the plant itself varies considerably in it's flavor. Maybe this batch grew in soil where it was mocked by nearby plants and some of the bitterness seeped into its leaves. Arugula is also known as rockette, maybe because the wrong bite can set your mouth in fire. According to various foodlore sources arugula kills intestinal parasites, so can cause violent reactions when eaten. If this blog entry breaks off suddenly you'll know what happened. I'm looking forward to another batch of arugula that I love, one that isn't at war with my taste buds. For now though I can at least simply enjoy the word - arugula . Say it. It feel...