cook pot stories

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 ...

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,...