cook pot stories

Wow, it's been awhile, hasn't it. I've been consumed by NaNoWriMo, a challenge to write a 50,000 word novel in one month. I've finished, so can now think about things like blogging again. If you're interested in my NaNoWriMo experience you can check out my other blog . I wrote about it a little there and will be writing more in the next few days. Right now, I want to write about Thanksgiving. If you're not a denizen of the US, Thanksgiving is our November harvest festival. You can read the background here . What it's come to mean for many American families is a gathering in one home with enormous amounts of food prepared by one harried family member. The feast is eaten, then everyone sits around in a stupor. This year, I was the harried family member. It's the first time I've hosted Thanksgiving. It went well. I'm still exhausted. But boy, was it yummy. I made all the traditional stuff - giant roasted turkey, stuffing (three different kinds), cra...

It's been awhile since I've written here, not because I've not been eating (ha!) but because I've not had anything that really inspired me. While on a recent trip to Vancouver BC I had some wonderful food - a great bowl of Chinese noodle soup, wonderful cod and salmon, so on and and so forth - but it didn't inspire me to write. I'm not sure why. Since coming home I've cooked a little of this and a little of that, all good, but not stunning. It's taken a cucumber to inspire me to write. I had leftover hot and sour soup for dinner. It was takeout from a local Chinese place , one I've written about before, so it was pretty good, but I found myself still munchie. I looked in the pantry and considered popcorn. I thought about heating other leftovers, maybe the chicken mushroom stew from last night. And then I remembered I had a cucumber in the crisper and all my prayers were answered. Or at least some of them, the prayers of the moment. Peeled, sliced (I ...

I'm a decent cook. Some days I consider myself a good cook; every once in awhile I'm inspired. And when I'm inspired as often as not it's for a meal that's cooked in one pot. You might call it stew or soup. I usually call it glop and no two glops are the same. Last night I was inspired. I made what was essentially a chicken mole but kept playing with it. I dredged chicken in a mixture of flour and mole seasoning, sauted it, then added onions, garlic, potatoes, a can of black beans, more spices (including more mole, pepper, salt and some adobo ) and water. I let this all cook for awhile and then tasted it. I found it to be a bit flat, so I added a little more pepper and the magic ingredient: molasses. Once it cooked down it was wonderful. The sauce was rich and savory, wonderful to eat by itself with bread, while the chicken and beans were tender and delicious. I'm feeling pretty smug about the whole thing. It could have been disastorous, but ended up delightful...

You're hungry. You haven't had a good meal in who knows how long. You're cold and tired and just worn out. You don't have access to a computer to read this blog - or to look for a job, or for a recipe if you had enough money for food anyway. Poverty stinks. On Blog Action Day bloggers around the world unity to make poverty history. You can too. Donate. Give time, give money, give your good spirit. Thanks.

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 ...

Today is Yom Kippur, the Jewish holiday of repentance. While there are many aspects to the observance of this Holy Day for the purposes of a food blog there is really only one point need to make. Today we fast from sundown to sundown. It's a powerful ting, fasting deliberately as an act of sacrifice, so we understand deprivation. I felt my stomach growling, felt the emptiness, and remembered how lucky I am to have plenty. At sundown I broke my fast with apples and honey, sweetness for the new year. I am cleansed, my mouth is sweet and I am reminded of the riches that surround me. (c) 2008 Laura S. Packer

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...