Why do I cook?

I am, of late, addicted to Twitter. It's not about the social aspects or the business building part (though both are captivating to me). It is all about checking my Foodie List. It gives me a dose of foodie news I can get no where else.

I wake to the poetic musings of Ruth Reichl describing her breakfast - 140 character love haiku. I am prone to snicker a bit during the day reading Gesine Bullock Prado's snarkiness. And I cheer out loud at each of Jamie Oliver's victories in bringing attention to the critical issues surrounding healthy eating and teaching children about food.

I've made new "friends" following Paige Orloff and Kim Severson, a fantastic journalist and foodie. When Kim announced the release of her new book, Spoon Fed: How Eight Cooks Saved My Life, I jumped on Amazon to order it. Something about the title struck a cord.

And today Kim's tweets pointed me to a fantastic article in the Toronto Globe and Mail about Cooking as Therapy. This did more than strike a cord. It answers the long-standing question of why I cook. It isn't a hobby for me. It is a necessity, a compulsion, a creative outlet, a healing act. It is my chance to mother to nurture and to gather a flock.

From the article:

Leading food psychologist Dr. Brian Wansink, head of the Food and Brand Lab at Cornell University, has studied “nutritional gatekeepers” or influential cooks. He found that of the five main types of cooks, three use cooking to get through rough patches.

Sometimes, making food is a means of creative expression, or they prepare food to compete with or get affirmation from others. There are “giving cooks” who cook to please. “When you cook for others, you’re saying you care they are well fed and healthy, which is something you just don’t get from doing other things,” he says.

Dr. Christine Courbasson, head of the eating disorders and addiction clinic at the Canadian Centre for Addiction and Mental Health, says she’s seen patients who cook to relieve stress or free their minds from worry. “Some of them fill a void or find that it’s a way of numbing. You also have to be mindful of the activity because you don’t want to chop your finger off.”

Home is where my kitchen is

When I began this blog I was waiting for a batch of cookies to come out of the oven and looking out the window of my beautiful kitchen overlooking Central Park.

That lovely place was sold and the odyssey of my homelessness began.

Let me be clear. I am far from out on the street. I want for just about nothing. But I've been bouncing from apartment to apartment - all quite temporary places - looking for a home to share with my cookie monster. And while he's been trying to find the perfect house, I've been trying to find my place to live within it.

Home is where my kitchen is. It is where years of accumulated knives and bowls and boards and cookbooks, recipe scraps, wooden spoons and spices, all sorted and stored, whisper to me when I walk in the door.

My kitchen has always been a place of creative expression. It satisfies my longing to nurture others and to be nutured. With busy hands and a free mind, it is my place of meditation. I solve all kinds of problems in my kitchen - from getting shortbread cookies just crumbly enough to nailing a brand positioning problem, to quieting a troubled heart (usually my own).

Not having my kitchen leaves me frustrated and sad and confused and far too ready to reach to ordinary restaurants and prepared foods that leave me unsatisfied and unfulfilled. Food sinks to the lowest common denominator space in my life - a utility.

My precious bits and bobs have been in storage for the better part of the three years since selling the Central Park place. And my cooking and baking have been sporadic at best. My hand and my palette are yearning and shaky like an unused muscle. I miss my kitchen like I'd miss a dear friend whom I hadn't seen for a while.

Time to find my kitchen again - long overdue really.

(Image: flickr~cottonblue)

Bring lunch to the office in style!

Martha buying Emerill is old news (in more ways than one). But here's some new news - and a darn fine brand extension if I do say so. Gather round all ye foodies who also love a good bag. Mario's got us all figured out!

Chocolate Ganache

This is amazing! Watch a tiny tot (for whom English is not a native language) channel Marc Bittman. More amazing when you watch the original.

I particularly like it when the camera man (dad) can't stifle his giggles.

And, while I've never been good at making ganache, I'm tempted, by the simplicity of this recipe and technique, to give it a try this weekend!

Food Fight

Brilliant chronicle of the geo-political conflicts over the last century and a half...

For more information on each battle and all the characters check out http://www.touristpictures.com/foodfight/index.htm

Who needs pie?

I'm having a deja vu moment. It's from Willi Wonka when Violet grabs a piece of gum and begins experiencing a full 6-course meal (or something like that).

"What brought this on?" you ask?

In this morning's (digital) headlines I read "Give Thanks: Pie Takes On Life Of Its Own". The article goes on to say that Godiva has come up with a line of pie-flavored chocolates and Jones Soda has done the same with fizzy drinks.

Oh come now! Why replace pie with anything else? Tis the season for pie eating and I must say that there is just no substitute for the stuff. Nothing. Absolutely NOTHING should come between a girl and her pie. Not even a fancy chocolate with a pie-flavored soda chaser.


Read on...

Back in the kitchen

I'm officially back in the kitchen. The weather has been perfect and the view is getting colorful.

Two weeks ago I had a 15 hour marathon session which started with two kinds of cookies (Chilmark Chunk and peanut butter Chocolate Chip).

I moved from there to grilling up some chicken piallard with a southwest seasoning mix (to be used later for a light supper over greens) and then realized I wanted to make adjustments to my seasoning mix. So I created a new one and popped a container of it onto the spice rack. T

hat got me thinking about staple foods, so I immediately set to work to make a gallon of granola (Seeded Maple).

I got hungry so I whipped up a Tuscan white bean salad for lunch which became an antipasto melange when I realized that I had some fantastic artichokes to add. And the artichokes got me to thinking about my favorite soup (from Giada DeLaurentis) Artichoke Leak soup - a kind of vichyssoise that can be served hot or cold (I omit the marscepone because it is rich enough without it!) A batch of that was created to compliment our light supper.

I realized that we might need another desert (because there's always a reason for more sweets) so I made Triple Chocolate Sorbet and poured it into my rocket pop molds. Its a kind of portion control. If I don't do that, Doug will finish the whole container before I get a taste!

After a short break I created our dinner salads with the chicken and served a spot of that yummy soup. Not satisfied enough to stop, after cleaning up, I thought I should make a treat for the folks I work with so I whipped up a chocolate pecan pie. This time I used Ghiradelli's bitter sweet chips and I must say, I 'm not thrilled with the result. I like darker chocolate but am not thrilled with the flavor of these chips. I've got to find a new chip source for my semi-sweet, bittersweet and white chips.

As soon as I figure out how to create and organize a new section for this blog, I'll add recipes for each of edibles I reference. Until then - enjoy the view!

New York On Fire

New York is hot. So hot I haven't cooked a batch of cookies in 2 months. Haven't slipped in a batch of granola. Simply won't attempt a roasted anything.

I promise when the temperature (outside) reads 72 degrees or less for 3 days running - the baking and steady blogging will begin anew.

And I'll figure out how to get multiple topics going so I can share the recipes that go along with the all the rest of this.

Peaceful Co-existence

Only in New York City do bagels and buses exist in such close proximity.

Each day as I make my way to work I marvel at the food vendors that appear like mushrooms popping up under pine trees after the rain.

And magically, by noon, they have all returned to deep earth. Out of site...
until the next morning.

How it all started...

I've been cooking for a long time. It all started at age 6 or so when I'd park myself in front of the TV, a reward for having finished my chores (though it felt more like indentured servitude to me). And there, on public television I'd find Julia or the Galloping Gourmet sautéing and sasheying (respectively).

My Mother went to work full time when I turned 7. My brother and I were left in my sister's care and lucky for me - that meant a whole lot of freedom! Each day at 4:00pm I'd ring my Mother at work for dinner preparation instructions. It usally involved taking the strip streak out of the freezer so it would be just defrosted enough for her to make a quick stirfry when she got home. But when I was lucky, it would be about dressing the chicken, prepping the baked potatoes and putting everything up to bake at 400(f) for an hour. Little did she (or anyone else) know that this task would take on dimensions never imagined. I prepped my "studio" and staged all my ingredients in small bowls. I'd pretend that over the counter there was no wall, but a television camera and a studio audience. And I went about my task, explaining every move I made while offering hints and tips, dishing dirt on my siblings, and sharing my hopes that I would make it through recess tomorrow unscathed by yucky boys.

I've graduated from slathering store bought barbeque sauce on chicken quarters. I've obsessed over a chocolate chip cookie recipe. Made gallons of granola. And honor my Mother's beef stew recipe without the slightest alteration. I've been inspired by the food revolution, and with it the dawn of The Food Network and fantastic new cooking shows on Public Television. And I've been blessed to have a man in my kitchen (now that I realize boys aren't really all that yucky) who is astoundingly speedy and whose skill is awesome!

In this space I'll continue my tradition of looking across the counter and connecting with my audience. But I promise to spare you all the details of recess and the trials and tribulations of things unrelated to wonderful food and the pursuit of the perfect cookie.