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What I Learned from the CIA

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As I mentioned when I read Michael Ruhlman’s The Elements of Cooking, I’ve also been reading one of his other books about food, The Making of a Chef. This book is Ruhlman’s behind-the-scenes look at what a “culinary education” entails, particularly what it takes to earn a certificate or degree at the CIA (the Culinary Institute of America).

I have become very interested in cooking and what makes a “good” cook. What does it take to be a “chef?” About one-third of the way through this book, I began to realize that I never want to be a chef: it does not sound like fun.

However, as I read about what a chef must learn, how a chef must prepare each day before the restaurant doors open, and how to approach each day in the kitchen, I began to think differently about food and cooking. Here are some concepts that I appreciate better now (I listened to the audio book, so I can’t give page numbers):

Mise en place

Ruhlman defines this in The Elements of Cooking as “literally, put in place;  the kitchen term for your setup, the gathering and preparation of all the tools and food you need to complete the task at hand.” In The Making of a Chef, Ruhlman discusses his time in the Skills kitchen at the CIA, learning to cut and prepare food. He discusses the time he spent working in the restaurants of the CIA, where he spent hours preparing his mise en place before the restaurant opened its doors and he actually began cooking. While I certainly don’t care how I cut my carrots, I was impressed with the time that was always given to make sure everything was ready to go before starting the grill or turning on the stove. As Ruhlman pointed out, if you have everything together before you begin, and you are familiar with the cooking plan (or recipe), then everything will fall into place when you begin cooking. If you aren’t prepared, then things could fall apart and you’ll find yourself “in the weeds.” If you are prepared, ye shall not fear. (Even nonfiction cooking memoirs are inspirational!)

Cooking is a series of problems solved.

I loved this concept, and it really is true:

  • My chicken burned on the grill; what do I do differently next time? (I always burn chicken on the grill)
  • My ____ tastes boring; what do I add?
  • This sauce isnt thick enough; how do I thicken it?
  • I’m out of ____; what do I substitute?
  • My _______ is [insert problem]; what did I forget?

I find myself wanting to solve the problems before they are unsolvable. (One chef in the book suggested that any food is fixable unless it is burned. Then you’re out of luck. You can’t un-burn it.)

What does it take to be a good cook? Basic understanding, passion, and balance.

I loved how balance was an essential part of being a cook in one chef’s equation. The chef told Ruhlman that those chefs that worked too much and didn’t do anything else really were not the best cooks. In my case, I think being a “good cook” is realizing that “good” is not the same as “perfection” and “cook” is not the same as “chef.” My family doesn’t need perfection, and they don’t need a chef. They need a mom and a wife who happens to prepare dinner every night.

President Metz (president-chef of the Institute) never eats anything he cooks without a critical eye.

I like the concept of being critical of my own food; if cooking is a series of problems solved (as discussed above) then I need to recognize the problems in order to improve on them. However, I don’t think it’s necessary to always eat critically. I’m not a chef; I expect to take some days off!

When we put food on the table, we make a value statement. Your own values and your own standards: that is all.

I think this is the crux of my goal in cooking. I want to be able to put food on the table that I feel good about. I will cook to my standards, accepting the fact that I will take days off from caring and critiquing what I put in my belly.

My Conclusion

This memoir is very different from the last Ruhlman book I read. In some respects, I recommend this book over The Elements of Cooking. Elements is a reference book for the more-confident cook. It is above me in some ways. This memoir, on the other hand, is a delightful look into the world of professional cooking and what makes the difference between a good cook and a professional cook. It helps me think about cooking in a completely new way. I think any home cook, any waiter, and any semi-professional cook could benefit from this inside look at cooking for the food industry. I needed that, probably before I read Elements. Now that Ive read The Making of a Chef, I feel I should go back and reread the essays in the beginning of Elements.

There is a lot to being a cook! Understanding the elements behind it is just part of it.

The Chef’s Craft in Every Kitchen?

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I have mixed feelings about Michael Ruhlman’s The Elements of Cooking: Translating the Chef’s Craft for Every Kitchen.

The Elements of Cooking is one-part opinionated essays about cooking (pages 1-50) and one-part alphabetic encyclopedia of opinionated “essential” elements to cooking. There are things I liked about both parts and other things that bordered on ridiculous. (For example, Sharpie is included in the list of essential elements to cooking. Its definition: “This brand of permanent marker is excellent for dating and labeling food; keep one in your tool drawer along with painter’s tape.” p. 215)

I didn’t realize why I was annoyed by this book until I started reading Ruhlman’s previous best-seller, The Making of a Chef. I haven’t finished that book yet. It is the story of how one is trained at the Culinary Institute of America to become a chef. Only as I read this second book do I realize what the problem is with the first book: I don’t want to be a chef. Therefore, it’s not necessary to translate the chef’s craft for my kitchen.

According to The Elements of Cooking, a chef is a leader, as in the head of a restaurant kitchen, and is firstly a good cook. A cook is what I do aspire to be. I don’t want to be a chef: I don’t want a restaurant kitchen. I want good home cooking for my home kitchen.

Because I don’t want to be a chef, some items on the alphabetic list of essential elements seem a bit ridiculous. I don’t need to learn about aspic (gelled stock), offal (innards of animals), and foie gras (duck liver). I won’t be cooking them in my kitchen. I don’t need to learn the French terms for my macaroni’s cheese sauce. I don’t need to know decorative knife cuts for cutting vegetables. I don’t need to know kitchen terms (for example, commis is a prep cook in a professional kitchen).

However, on the other hand, as a cook, some of the terms, even the French terms, may come in handy if I happen upon a recipe that uses them.

Also, as a cook I found the opinionated essays about cooking incredibly interesting. Those essays are the reason I would recommend this book to the average cook. They make me think about cooking in a different way. I plan on rereading them regularly. Ruhlman included essays on stock, sauces, salt, the egg, heat, and tools of the kitchen. I think I’ll revisit them in subsequent posts — they are very informative and, I think, discussion worthy.

One book he recommended reading is On Food and Cooking: The Science and Lore of the Kitchen, by Harold McGee. This is a scientific explanation of food, from eggs to meat and fish to plants and on. The author has degrees in science and literature so provides scientific descriptions the layman can understand. When I read it, I’ll let you know if that is true.

Ruhlman’s last essay is about finesse. This is where I feel I’ve departed from his main point of his book: I’m not a chef and so I’m not hoping for “refinement” in my cooking. As a cook, I hope to provide fundamental home cooking for my family. However, I suspect Ruhlman is correct to some extent, even for my home kitchen: “The concept [of finesse] rest[s] on a conviction that paying attention to a few small details in any given preparation has an enormous impact on the finished dish and is the final gratification for the cook in his or her pursuit of excellence” (p. 46).

While I’m not looking for approval of my food as a restaurant chef or even as an amateur chef in any sense of the term “chef” and I’m not vainly pursuing excellence (perfectionist though I am), I think a reward to my efforts at cooking will be a gratifying and edible supper every night with my family, recognizing that there is always room for improvement.

I recommend Ruhlman’s book to the family cook only half-heartedly. It’s great to get you thinking about food, but only with a few tablespoons of salt.

The Great Big Vegetable Challenge and What’s Your Vegetable?

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I have never liked vegetables. I don’t know why. Maybe I relied too much on bagged iceberg lettuce and ranch dressing in my college days and I got tired of it. I like fruit, however, and always enjoy fresh fruit. I have a sweet tooth, and the natural sweetness of fruit is my favorite.

My husband, on the other hand, prefers vegetables. If I set dinner on the table and I have forgotten the vegetable (which happens more often than I should admit), my husband will ask “Where are the vegetables?” and he’ll prepare something.

I could go a long time and not eat green.

But last night, the meal I was making just wouldn’t work. When my husband got home, the kitchen was still dinnerless. (He got home after eight so it’s kind of sad I hadn’t worked something out by then. I was starved.) He said, “Why don’t we just eat these greens?” I had a bag of rocket (known in the USA as arugula) in the fridge. Surprisingly, none of it was wilted (they usually don’t have very good greens here). I consented. But when my husband put the greens on our two plates, there were two huge piles. I tasted some. It wasn’t very good. (And then I had rocket breath — ha ha.)

“I can’t eat that much!” I protested. There’s nothing like a salad for someone who doesn’t like vegetables to begin with.

My husband wasn’t convinced. He pulled things out the fridge for our salads.

“Cut up the leftover steaks,” he began.

I cut up the steak and added it to the salad. Then, at his suggestion, I added olives, sun-dried tomatoes, and shaved Parmesan cheese.

In the meantime, he sliced some red onions, cooked them in balsamic vinegar, and piled them on our salads. He added mustard and olive oil to the remaining balsamic, whisked it into an emulsified sauce, and heated it with some black currant jam. (He’s so good!) He poured that over the salads.

He says that the dressing was too sweet, too much. I don’t know what to say, other than I ate every last piece of green on my plate: it was delicious!

I admit: I left some of the olives. I’ve never like olives. I ate most of them because I’ve been inspired by some food bloggers at The Great Big Vegetable Challenge in London. Here’s their story: Freddie, age seven, did not like vegetables. To cure him of his vegetable-phobia, his family is eating their way through an alphabet of vegetables, getting recipes from around the world and rating each vegetable recipe 1 to 10 (10 is best) on their blog. I think that if Freddie doesn’t like a vegetable in the end, he doesn’t have to eat it, but here’s the catch: he has to try it prepared in at least two different ways. Sometimes it’s the recipe that isn’t good. It seems to me that he’s always rating things from 6 to 10. That’s inspiring.

I can see how different preparations can make a difference: I don’t think I would have liked our rocket salad last night if I’d tried to eat it with Italian dressing and tomatoes, which is what I would have done. I would have eaten a few forkfuls before being disgusted and bored with the greens and going for desert. But the combination of the black currant balsamic dressing, the steak, and the other “goodies” made it very tasty. I was too full to eat ice cream.

I’m going to take the Great Big Vegetable Challenge in my approach to food: if I don’t like a food, that’s OK, but I have to try it a few different ways before I claim I don’t like it.

I’ve eaten mushrooms a number of ways (both raw and cooked), and I still don’t like them. Find me a “good” mushroom or a good mushroom recipe and I’ll try again.

So far, olives are OK, but not my favorite. My husband says we need to find “good” olives and then maybe I’ll like them more. I love a good olive oil — I’d even eat it by the spoonful — so if I could find an olive that tastes that fruity, maybe I could say I love them too.

On the average night, I simply prepare frozen vegetables for dinner. My default vegetable is broccoli: salt, pepper, butter, broccoli … mmm. My husband will always default to peas: “They are like little explosions of taste in your mouth!”

Note that I don’t consider potatoes a vegetable: I consider them a starch. (We have potatoes in some form every night.)

What’s your favorite vegetable?

Reflections on “A Spoon Full of Sugar” and “Just 30 Minutes”

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For every job that must be done
There is an element of fun
You find the fun and snap!
The job’s a game.

I’ve been listening to Disney music lately. One thing I bought in the States is a five-disc Disney song Classics collection. I’ve enjoyed the retreat to childhood as I revisit favorite songs and introduce my infant son to “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious” and “When You Wish upon a Star” and dozens of others.

Another thing we brought back from the States is a Swiffer and a hundred dry Swiffer rags. This was a gift from my mother-in-law, who believed me when I said that a Swiffer was all I wanted (I couldn’t find them here!). Despite Swiffer’s claim otherwise, you really can’t throw away the broom and the mop — the dry Swiffer doesn’t catch three-dimensional things and the wet Swiffer doesn’t do a great job at kitchen messes — but overall, the Swiffer is a great floor-cleaning tool: it catches the dust and hairs and dirt that just don’t get caught without it. I feel efficient when I’m Swiffering (yes, I believe that is a verb now), and I don’t have to try to catch the mess in a dustpan as I use it.

As I was Swiffering our huge hardwood floor the other morning, I started humming “A Spoon Full of Sugar.” I realized that something as simple as a tool I liked made the task less annoying. Cleaning the floor wasn’t as much of a bother because I felt like I was being efficient. The Swiffer was my “spoonful of sugar” that helped the medicine of cleaning “go down.”

Later, I was telling my husband about a silly website I visited.

“I know I have better things to do,” I said.”But it was fun. Besides, it was just a half-hour, if that.”

He looked at me. “Just a half-hour? How many half-hours do you get every day?”

He wasn’t accusatory at all — I imagine he really doesn’t care what I do. It’s my time. But I realized that this question was coming from a man who had a limited number of “free” half-hours every day. Many of his half-hours are filled with work responsibilities.

How many half-hours do I get every day? And what do I do with all of them?

Yesterday I began a testing process. Here was the test: what can I do in a half an hour? Here’s a list of the chores I can do in half an hour:

  • Shower, dress, and do my hair and makeup (unless I iron my clothes)
  • Clean three bathrooms (at 10 minutes each)
  • Starch and iron 1½ shirts (at 20 minutes each — I’m really slow. My husband usually irons his own shirts, but I really should iron for him, given how many more “free” half-hours I get each day. Maybe I’ll get faster as I do this more often.)
  • Swiffer and sweep, thoroughly, the hardwood floors (lots downstairs, some upstairs)
  • Vacuum the carpeting (three rooms and two large rugs)
  • Dust the bookcases, shelves, and ceiling corners of the house using a Swiffer duster
  • Wash the dishes in the sink (by hand) and wipe down the counters and the microwave
  • Make a quick dinner

Some things take half that time:

  • Feed my son
  • Eat breakfast
  • Eat lunch
  • Fold and put away a load of laundry and start the next load
  • Unload the dishwasher and load it again
  • Wipe the kitchen counters and table and set the table for dinner
  • Tidy the living room (by actually putting things away, not just hiding them)
  • Swiffer, quickly, the hardwood floors

Some things take twice as long:

  • Make a longer dinner (you can’t rush risotto)
  • Get groceries at the supermarket and unload them and put them away

Obviously, some things can’t be done when my son is demanding my attention. (When he wants attention, then I can do some of the fun half-hours: cuddle him close to me, read Winnie-the-Pooh to him, sing a few primary songs, get on the floor and play with his toys.) And how do I vacuum when he’s napping without waking him? But when I put these things in half-hour increments, I don’t feel wrong asking him to entertain himself here and there through the day. Letting him play by himself for 30 minutes while I shower and get ready every morning can’t kill him. Also, he was happy to watch me wash dishes and wipe down kitchen counters because I was talking with him and singing to him as I did it.

As I tested how much of each chore I could get done in a half hour, I felt an urgency to hurry and get it done. It was almost like a game.

The end results were the biggest bonuses. I felt so much better about myself when my hair was done and my makeup was on. I felt a sense of glee when I found that folding and putting away an entire load of laundry took half as long as I thought it would. I felt a sense of satisfaction when I looked at the living room, free of unnecessary clutter, and knew that everything was put away where it was “supposed” to be. I felt very good as I set a well-balanced meal in front of my husband at the end of his long work day.

Those 30 minutes I spent visiting a “who does your son look like?” webpage seemed like “just a half-hour.” It went fast. I think I’ll try to think of chores as “just a half-hour” and maybe that will make them go faster.

Even with the challenge of “how long does it take?”, I don’t think these chores are fun, and it isn’t really a “game” to do them. But I think the satisfaction of having a clean, put-together home is a great reward.

Presto Pesto Pizza, Cookies Revisited, and Chicken Soup for the Cold

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We got back from our trip two weeks ago and I haven’t gotten into the swing of cooking new recipes each week. I’ve been relying on comfort food, like my Super-Easy Pork Chops and Macaroni and Cheese. Yesterday was a comfort food day. I spent all afternoon in the kitchen.

My husband has a sore throat and a cold, so I wanted to make some chicken soup for him. When I was looking at the supermarket for produce for the soup, I saw fresh basil, so I decided to make pesto.

Pesto is a great base for pizza, and since we can’t get decent pizza, I make it. I still miss deep-dish Chicago pizza, but this is a good second best. Making the pesto is the most time consuming part of making this pizza. Now I’ve made it, so pizza, here I come! To make a yummy pizza, I put the pesto on the store-bought pizza crust, put on some chopped sun-dried tomatoes and some fresh Roma tomatoes, put on some cheese (mozzarella, shredded Parmesan, and crumbled goat cheese, which adds a nice flavor), and maybe some other toppings (dried figs, soaked in water, taste really yummy!). Put it in the oven for the allotted time given on the store-bought pizza crust, and presto! We have pesto pizza. See below for the pesto recipe.

Then I needed to make a treat for mother’s group today, so I made the Best Chocolate Chip Cookies in the world again. They turned out better than ever! So good, in fact, that I’m going to buy cookies to take to mother’s group and keep the homemade ones for myself and for my sick husband who insists they help him feel better. (We may not stay at mother’s group anyway since my throat already has a tickle and Paul keeps sneezing and moaning.)

(By the way, I have changed the metric equivalence on the recipe: it should be 225 g of butter instead of 250 g of butter. They were much “fluffier” and not as greasy with a little bit less butter. I assume that is still equal to 1 cup of butter, but if it’s not or if your cookies seem greasy, put in less than 1 cup of butter.)

I made chicken soup, too. I didn’t put in enough chicken, but overall, the broth ended up quite yummy. The recipe I (sort of) followed said to put the following in a cheesecloth sachet: thyme, celery, parsley, black peppercorn, and bay leaf. I couldn’t find cheesecloth, so I put those things in the broth and simmered for a little while before beginning the rest of the soup. After simmering for a while, I strained out the solids and set aside the broth. I sauteed some onions, garlic, carrots, and celery, added the broth again, then threw in some potatoes and some chopped chicken. The recipe called for 6 ounces (170 g) of chicken for that much broth (about 5 litres), but it was not nearly enough chicken. Next time I’ll put in twice as much. Oh well. At least the broth was tasty! Hopefully the leftovers will help my sore throat when I come down with a cold, too. I already feel a sniffle coming on.

Here’s the pesto recipe if you want to try making pesto pizza:

Pesto Sauce

Yield:1 cup

Ingredients

2 cups fresh basil leaves, stems removed, about 2 ounces (60 g)
1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil
3 tablespoons pine nuts or walnuts
1 tablespoon peeled and coarsely chopped garlic, about 3 large cloves
Salt and pepper to taste
1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese
1 tablespoon hot water

Directions

Rinse and pat dry the trimmed basil leaves.

Put the basil leaves in the container of a food processor or blender. Add the oil, pine nuts or walnuts, garlic, and salt and pepper. Blend to a fine texture but not a smooth puree, stopping the motor once to scrape down the sides of the blender container and to force the ingredients down to the blades.

Add the Parmesan cheese and water and blend just a few seconds more. Chill until served.

Serve with pasta, use as a pizza base, or spoon over broiled fish or chicken.

Super-Easy Pork Chops

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I had a Pork Chops with Mango Sauce recipe I was going to try the other day, until I realized that the limes I was going to use were completely moldy. Eww! I need to clean out the fridge more often (maybe before I go out of town). The mango sauce wouldn’t work so well without the lime juice and lime zest. (The only other ingredients in the sauce were chopped mint leaves, a cubbed mango, and half a red onion.)

I was feeling very uncreative in terms of what to do with the pork chops. We just wanted something quick to eat: that’s why I was going to fall back on the mango sauce. It looked so easy. I didn’t want to agonize over what to cook, but I find pork chops incredibly boring when they are just sauteed–they really need something on them. What could I do?

A quick internet search provided an easy recipe. I thought I’d share.

We had some blackberry jam in the fridge so I mixed two tablespoons of that with two tablespoons of Dijon mustard. After I browned both sides of the pork, I put a dollop of the mixture on the top of each piece of pork, covered the pan, and sauteed them until they were cooked through.

While the pork cooked, I heated some frozen vegetables and my husband made some potatoes. The whole meal was easy and super-tasty. I’ll add more mustard next time because it was incredibly subtle. But it was good as it was–you can barely taste it so if you don’t like mustard, it won’t overwhelm you.

  • Ingredients: 3 (pork, jam, mustard–plus butter for sauteeing and salt and pepper, but those don’t count)
  • Preparation: 1-2 minutes
  • Cooking time: 15-20 minutes

I cooked four of the seven chops that way. Yesterday, we cooked the other three chops. I bought limes and mixed together the mango sauce. (We omitted the red onion because apparently we didn’t have that.) My husband grilled the pork chops. Then we spooned the mango sauce over the pork.

Again, it was very tasty!

  • Ingredients: 4 (pork chops, mango, lime juice and zest, mint–plus vegetable oil for grilling and salt and pepper, but those don’t count)
  • Preparation: 10 minutes (it takes me a while to cut a mango; I’m sure my husband would have cut it faster)
  • Grilling time: 10 minutes, plus grill preparation

I love easy, tasty food!

Comfort Food

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Last week I felt very efficient. I cleaned the whole apartment from top to bottom and cooked dinner every night. Saturday night I made a turkey dinner and we entertained. I felt very good.

This week has been kind of blah. Monday was raining. Tuesday I felt unwell. Wednesday Paul got his first immunizations so he was very unhappy and sore. Thursday I spent the day filling out insurance paperwork. I haven’t been very good at cleaning, and since I didn’t do a big shopping trip on Saturday, I can only cook what I can buy and carry in the stroller, so I’ve done some easy things.

Last night I made Macaroni and Cheese. I think of it as a comfort food because it is so easy to make. I make sure I have a block of cheddar cheese and macaroni in the house so I can make it when I’m in a pinch for a yummy dinner.

I thought I’d share the recipe. (And yes, it is so much better than Kraft.)

Easy Macaroni and Cheese

Ingredients

    500 g (1 lb) macaroni, cooked
    1 cup grated sharp Cheddar cheese
    1 cup bread crumbs
Cheese Sauce Ingredients
    4 Tbsp butter
    4 Tbsp flour
    2 1/2 cups milk, heated
    Salt
    Pepper
    Pinch of cayenne pepper
    1 cup grated sharp Cheddar cheese

Directions

    Prepare cheese sauce as follows: Melt the butter in a heavy-bottomed saucepan. Stir in the flour and cook, stirring constantly, until the paste cooks and bubbles a bit, but don’t let it brown, about 2 minutes. Add the hot milk, continuing to stir as the sauce thickens. Bring it to a boil. Add salt and pepper to taste, lower the heat, and cook, stirring for 2 to 3 minutes more. Stir in 1 cup grated Cheddar cheese during the last 2 minutes of cooking, along with a pinch of cayenne pepper. Remove from heat.

Here’s what I’ve learned in making this dish. First, if I accidentally add too much flour, I’ll have to start over. I’ve made this dish a few times so I guess I was feeling confident at my estimating. But I accidentally put in way too much and I could tell right away it would never blend together. I dumped it out and started again.

Second, if I don’t cook the roux long enough, the sauce will not thicken. I missed that the first time or two. I just had a milky cheese sauce. How do you know when the roux is cooked long enough? I’m still trying to figure it out. My husband says it smells “nutty.” I guess so, but how do you really define that? Last night, I thought I didn’t cook it long enough because the sauce wasn’t thickening. I was going to give it five more minutes and then start over with a new roux. But then it thickened up, so I didn’t have to.

Third, I should have used whole milk! We had some in the fridge, but I didn’t think of it until after I’d added skim milk. Oh well.

Fourth, I should make sure I put in salt and pepper! The first time I omitted them. I think I used to be afraid of putting them in, for any dish. But the more the better — to a certain extent…

    Preheat the oven to 375°F (190 C). Butter a casserole dish. Put the cooked macaroni into the casserole dish, pour the cheese sauce over it, and mix gently with a fork.

Somehow, I didn’t quite have enough sauce last night. If I’d have had time, I’d have made another batch of sauce. It’s good to have very creamy mac and cheese. Instead, we just poured milk over the top of our bowls when we served it.

    Sprinkle the grated cheese evenly over the top and spread the crumbs over the cheese. Bake, uncovered, until the top is golden and the sauce is bubbling, about 30 minutes.

I didn’t measure the cheese or the breadcrumbs. I just put on as much as looked tasty.

And it was tasty! (Yes, even the leftovers are gone already!)

Some Turkey

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Everybody knows some turkey and some mistletoe/ Will help to make the season bright. –The Christmas Song

I was feeling a bit left out of the Turkey Day celebrations (since, of course, there was no holiday here). I decided that it was time to do my own Thanksgiving dinner. I invited my friend Michelle and her family for a Saturday, 1 December, Thanksgiving dinner. There were 7 people total. A small gathering, but the largest number I’ve entertained.

I went to order a turkey from the Christmas Made Easy counter on Monday so I can prepare a lovely Turkey Dinner. They won’t provide ordered turkeys until 21 December. They don’t carry turkeys other times of the year.

I finally found a 3.2 kg (7 lb) frozen turkey breast at a supermarket. They seem few and far between. You’d think they’d have big signs advertising them. Is that how it is in the States? Aren’t turkeys just flying off the shelves already?

For those of you preparing to do your own Turkey Dinner this holiday season, here is what an amateur learned her first time around.

  • A turkey breast is a lot smaller and looks a lot easier to manage than an entire turkey. (And, while I never have done an entire turkey, it really was easy to do the turkey breast!)
  • When defrosting turkey in the fridge, don’t put the turkey on the top shelf.
  • When defrosting turkey in the fridge, make sure you put a pan underneath it.
  • If you don’t do the two preceding things, you’ll have to scrub the entire fridge and throw out the fresh fruit that is sitting on the bottom shelf.
  • Brining the turkey breast really isn’t hard.
  • When cooking a turkey in a small oven, make sure the oven shelf is as low as possible. Otherwise, the turkey will be just millimetres from the top broiler and will get all crusty on top.
  • When purchased, the turkey is wrapped with a foam pad. Throw out the foam pad before putting the turkey in the oven. Otherwise, at the end you won’t be able to separate the foam from the turkey drippings and it will be kind of nasty.
  • Make your husband carve the turkey.
  • Don’t have too many dishes: turkey, cranberry sauce and gravy, stuffing, mashed potatoes, and salad is plenty of food. There will be leftovers! (Hmmm, maybe it just wasn’t very good and that’s why it’s left over…)
  • When hurrying to put things away five minutes before company arrives, be careful not to bump the Pyrex liquid measuring cup from the top shelf of the cupboard. Otherwise, it will shatter and glass fragments will end up everywhere and you’ll be in even more of a panic. And you’ll get cuts on your hands.
  • If the pecan pie cooks too long, the crust will fly across the room when you try to cut into it.
  • If the pies don’t taste very good, just put more whipped cream on top. (Note to my family members who will be amazed at that comment: this is not Cool Whip or cream from the can, which I never have liked. This is real whipped cream, which is actually very tasty.)
  • If the pies don’t taste very good, everyone will still eat them because they have lots of sugar in them. Plus, there’s the whipped cream.

That’s what I learned. And, just to clarify, my husband (who is the true cook) had to work all day and didn’t get home until 5 p.m., when I was about to take the turkey out of the oven. (Company came at 6 p.m.) I did it all, except make the gravy and carve the turkey. Yes, I can cook a turkey dinner! Maybe I’m a cook too…

And now I feel like it’s the holidays! Happy Turkey Days to all of you!

Sup-Sup-Suppertime

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I was 32 when I started cooking; up until then, I just ate.—Julia Child

Non-cooks think it’s silly to invest two hours’ work in two minutes’ enjoyment; but if cooking is evanescent, so is the ballet. —Julia Child

Despite my mother’s best intentions, I never really liked or learned to cook while I was in her household.

In college, I avoided cooking and lived on Rice-a-Roni, sugar cookies, and Life cereal for four years. (My roommates can attest to that.) It helped that I often didn’t notice when I was hungry and forgot to eat. When I first got married, I would kind of cook, but not really — just so my stomach was full, I didn’t care what went in it. My husband loves to cook and he’d do the cooking on the weekends. But when he was out of town, I was lucky if I didn’t just get McDonalds. We moved to Australia and suddenly I was not working, I had time and no more excuses. I felt my husband deserved a home-cooked meal each night. I found recipes and began cooking; “at least three times a week” was my goal. It was tedious, but I could do it.

At that point, I felt that if I tried something challenging, I would mess up and it would be a disaster — so why try the hard things? Besides, food will be gone in a few moments. Why put in effort to create something spectacular? As a result, I made “boring” dishes that I didn’t feel too proud of. I felt I needed to apologize before serving it. (I never heard a word of complaint; rather, my husband always said my food was wonderful.)

Then Paul was born. I felt somewhat out of control for a few weeks and I didn’t cook at all. Then, one day (Paul was probably two weeks old), I sat down and found a recipe, I got the ingredients, and I made some yummy food. It was so much fun. Since then, I’ve found that I love cooking! Yes, sometimes I really don’t feel like cooking and we do something easy or my husband cooks. But on most days, I’ve found I love the hour I have every evening to create a feast for my husband. I’m getting pretty good at timing it so it’s ready just as he’s walking in the door. And I love it.

I’ve been cooking any recipe that looks tasty. What’s the result of cooking any recipe? Plenty of “oops” meals, and plenty of learning. Some recipes take a lot of effort. Some work well and others don’t. And the food is gone in minutes or days if we’re lucky (leftovers are a good thing). I know more about technique and flavor pairing than I ever did before. I can critique my finished product and determine what is missing or overpowering in it. I can tweak a recipe as I cook to make it better.

I actually look forward to trying five or six new recipes next week.

I don’t know what changed, but there’s something satisfying I didn’t feel before. It feels great to welcome my husband home from work with a complete feast on the table. Cooking is fun. Sup-sup-suppertime really is the very best time of the day!