cook pot stories

Here in New England winter has been slow in coming. Following a freak October snowstorm that brought down trees and powerlines, we had weeks of unseasonably warm weather that have been both lovely and unsettling. Warm days mean we’ve had a chance to spend more time outside, but we’re walking in early winter dark at 4:30, when it’s 65f amongst leafless trees. At night we see cold weather constellations but there are swarms of moths that cling to cars, follow headlights and flutter in confusion, thinking it must be spring. I’ve been confused too. By this time of year I’m usually deep in cold weather cooking, making the things that bring me the most comfort against the chill dark. In this unexpected warmth I’m not quite sure what to do, but the dark, oh the dark calls for comfort. Brightly colored squash and rich soups . Yeasty breads and roasted chickens. All of these speak to me of home and hearth, of warmth through the long winter, of companionship in the dark. The process of preparing...

I love spring cooking. My garden is sending up fresh shoots, the things I forgot about from last winter are surprising and delighting me. One of those is sorrel. I had no idea, when I planted it last year, that it would come back this year with such a vengeance. I've been at something of a loss as to what to do with it - I feel like a fool saying I have too much sorrel, when it's one of those things that is fleeting and delicate, but there you have it, more sorrel than I really can eat. Then I remembered. Sorrel has a tart, fresh taste. Fish is complemented by tart things. Scallops, with their sweetness, benefit from tart accompaniments. And a dish was born. My ingredients were: butter (not shown) about a pound of fresh, creamy sea scallops. If you've not cooked scallops before, or are worried about it,  this video  has good tips on selecting and preparing them garlic scallions, fresh from the garden - another spring surprise 6 or 7 big sorrel leaves pepper to t...

For some people summer means grilling or soft ice cream. For me, it's all about the watermelon. Maybe it's a bit late, writing about summer tastes in late August, but now is the time that I become sentimental for what will vanish in just a few weeks. I love watermelon. I'm not the only one. Watermelon originated in southern Africa; watermelon seeds were found in Tutankhamen's tomb. It makes sense that these melons evolved in southern Africa; they hold immense amounts of water (92%) and as they over-ripen they crack open, giving the seeds a wet, lucsious place within which to take root. There are stories about watermelon from around the world, ruminations on sweetness and bitterness, Anansi tales where he pretends to be a talking melon, and more. When I eat watermelon in the summer I am at once a kid again, longing for seeds to spit (curse these seedless watermelons!) and an adult indulging in a forbidden sweet. I love the varied texture and clean sweetness. And I lo...

This past weekend my sweetie and I went to the Topsfield Fair, a large agricultural fair. It was full of everything you'd expect - barns with beautiful livestock (it's good to remember where the meat we eat comes from)(there was one cow who was, I swear, a ham. She loved having her picture taken and got sulky when no one was nearby), giant pumpkins (the winner was over 1,400 lbs, yikes), a midway with games and rides, infomercials everywhere, and of course, food. Cider, fried dough, hot dogs, turkey legs, french fries, on and on and on. My favorite bite was a hot cider donught and a cup of hot cider. The worst was a texas onion ring, covered with so much slightly-off batter I couldn't finish one. The smells were overwhelming. When we got home all I really wanted was something clean and simple. The next day for dinner I made a butternut squash. I quartered it (actually, Kevin chopped it up with a cleaver for me - those suckers are tough), scraped out the seeds, then put it ...