Today is World AIDS Day. What does that have to do with a food blog?
When I was in middle school, ages ago, there were major stories in the news about a boy named Ryan to whom AIDS was transmitted via blood transfusion. I met a young man named Grant, who also had received tainted blood.
Grant's Mom was wonderful, fighting for her son any way she could. Not just keeping the teenager out of trouble and doing homework, she researched all the aspects of her son's condition and did whatever she could to combat symptom after symptom. Grant told me later that he was always mortified every time his mom talked about him having to use Monestat to get rid of the thrush in his mouth.
He was a sweet guy, and a good pen pal.
It always seemed like I heard from Grant right around the times I needed a break from the self-centered world of the average teenage girl. He kept perspective for me in a way I still am grateful for, helping shape me into what I hope is a more thoughtful person.
For Grant, today, I wanted to share a classic, favorite snack from my Writing With Grant days. Miss you, Sweet Heart, and I promise I try every day: Don't apologize, fix it. Find a way.
Hot Chocolate Jess Style
8 oz skim milk
1 package of hot chocolate mix
4 peppermints, crushed
1. Microwave milk in appropriate cup for 1:30-1:45 minutes.
2. Stir hot chocolate mix in, making sure to stir out all the lumps. Please avoid marshmallows here. Firstly, they add sugar that's just not necessary in this particular treat. Second of all, they will disintegrate into semigrossness with all the stirring involved here. Seriously. I've seen it.
3. Add the peppermint powder. Stir slowly. You can re-microwave if you need to, so the heat helps shorten the time it takes to melt any larger pieces that didn't quite get crushed.
4. I would usually couple this with a handful of pretzel sticks. Crunchy contrast, with the salt helping to cut through the silky sweetness of the hot chocolate.
Thursday, December 1, 2011
Monday, November 21, 2011
Eating Like Alice AND A CHALLENGE
I'm not going to go Oprah and say, "I'm addicted to food."
From what I know of the human brain, I feel confident in saying there is no way to organically prove addiction to food. The brain causes endorphin-rushes when eating because if you don't eat you die.
Therefore, if you remove the addiction... you die.
I want to talk about understanding food, and your own personal relationship to food.
Why don't we think about food like Alice in Wonderland?
I'm serious. Alice eats food that causes her to grow. Alice drinks things that make her shrink.
This is something very specific and important to consider. No matter our ages, these are interesting ways to think. Every time you eat food, it makes you grow. When you are young, as best you can you eat enough calories to help in normal growth. When you become an adult, food takes on an intellectual quality. It becomes less about what you need and more about gratification. But, what if you held on to that memory, that understanding that Every time Alice ate too much, she grew beyond the size she should be?
I'm not suggesting that everything you drink will make you shrink. There are positives to consider here. Health benefits from drinking water have been cited often, including water's unique roll in assisting the colon in absorbing less fat and salt. This does not mean drinking a six-pack of beer will magically turn all of us into Twiggy, even though we may feel like we look rather more like her after such a 'meal.'
How often do you mistake thirst for hunger? Are you certain your body is asking for that snack, rather than a glass of ice water?
I love writing about food. I adore cooking, and feeding the people I love. I also weigh less now than I did when I graduated high school 10 years ago. My weight has been stable within 5 pounds, with the exception of the 2 weeks before/ after my wedding, for a year. I like taking care of myself, as well as indulging in ice cream, sugary snacks and the occasional soda.
I figured out in college that there were many times I mistook thirst for hunger. I would reach for a snack, consider carefully what my body was really telling me, then look at my food journal.
I've introduced a new phrase into the conversation. Did you spot it?
Food Journal: I define these two words as the most disappointing and important thing I've done for myself. I started making notes of what I eat throughout the day, as well as any interesting signals I got from my body and what eased those signals.
I learned that I am extremely sensitive to caffeine. If I drink a regularly caffeinated soda like Pepsi or Coke, I have an alarming amount of energy for 4-6 hours. My appetite is diminished. I also experience excrutiating headaches for about 3 days after, as well as stomach cramping.
I also learned that when I need water, I start experiencing very specific, temple-centric pain. My toes cramp.
Over the past weeks, I've begun doing crunches before bed. Not because I want to lose weight; I do them because I feel better when I do. I like my muscles. I like the way I move, and the agility I have. To maintain these things, I do crunches that increase in number by 5 every week. I'm up to 50 a night, and I love it. I also do yoga as much as I can, which helps me relax and stay limber.
Food is still a great love of my life. I invest emotion and effort into the food I create, because I feel as though I make it well. I want the people who eat my food to feel satisfied, surprised, delighted and taken care of when they eat whatever I offer.
Food does not equal love. Sharing means more to me than the food itself. I may not always take the offered fare, but I am never ungrateful for the effort you put into trying to include me.
I think it's important for more people to seriously consider their relationship to food, moreso than their relationships with food. I mean to say that food is our fuel. Food for us, just like Alice, will make us grow. Perhaps we won't grow taller as Alice did, but we will widen. This has everything to do with food as a fuel, and nothing to do with the cake you eat to ignore the cruel things someone said, or the annoying feeling that the promotion you slaved for all year will be handed to Barry McGingle, because he's marrying The Boss's Daughter. In that case, just like sleeping with the semi-toothless guy at the end of the bar, the comfort you seek is at best a bandage and at worst a very serious health risk for rewards that are dubious at best.
Being careful how much we take in creates so many positives! More sustainability. More opportunity to recognize how wonderous variety can be, as we make room for more unfamiliar food in our menus! More to share with the people we love, especially when holidays come and money becomes a balancing act. More chances for others to try the foods we love so dearly, as well.
I challenge you to Eat Like Alice for one week. Keep reminding yourself: "If I eat too much, I'll grow." Tell me what happens. Did it make a difference? Would writing down all you eat change how you perceive your food?
I want you to be happy. I want you to be healthful. I want you to find that wonderful place between extremes where all the possibilities exist!
From what I know of the human brain, I feel confident in saying there is no way to organically prove addiction to food. The brain causes endorphin-rushes when eating because if you don't eat you die.
Therefore, if you remove the addiction... you die.
I want to talk about understanding food, and your own personal relationship to food.
Why don't we think about food like Alice in Wonderland?
I'm serious. Alice eats food that causes her to grow. Alice drinks things that make her shrink.
This is something very specific and important to consider. No matter our ages, these are interesting ways to think. Every time you eat food, it makes you grow. When you are young, as best you can you eat enough calories to help in normal growth. When you become an adult, food takes on an intellectual quality. It becomes less about what you need and more about gratification. But, what if you held on to that memory, that understanding that Every time Alice ate too much, she grew beyond the size she should be?
I'm not suggesting that everything you drink will make you shrink. There are positives to consider here. Health benefits from drinking water have been cited often, including water's unique roll in assisting the colon in absorbing less fat and salt. This does not mean drinking a six-pack of beer will magically turn all of us into Twiggy, even though we may feel like we look rather more like her after such a 'meal.'
How often do you mistake thirst for hunger? Are you certain your body is asking for that snack, rather than a glass of ice water?
I love writing about food. I adore cooking, and feeding the people I love. I also weigh less now than I did when I graduated high school 10 years ago. My weight has been stable within 5 pounds, with the exception of the 2 weeks before/ after my wedding, for a year. I like taking care of myself, as well as indulging in ice cream, sugary snacks and the occasional soda.
I figured out in college that there were many times I mistook thirst for hunger. I would reach for a snack, consider carefully what my body was really telling me, then look at my food journal.
I've introduced a new phrase into the conversation. Did you spot it?
Food Journal: I define these two words as the most disappointing and important thing I've done for myself. I started making notes of what I eat throughout the day, as well as any interesting signals I got from my body and what eased those signals.
I learned that I am extremely sensitive to caffeine. If I drink a regularly caffeinated soda like Pepsi or Coke, I have an alarming amount of energy for 4-6 hours. My appetite is diminished. I also experience excrutiating headaches for about 3 days after, as well as stomach cramping.
I also learned that when I need water, I start experiencing very specific, temple-centric pain. My toes cramp.
Over the past weeks, I've begun doing crunches before bed. Not because I want to lose weight; I do them because I feel better when I do. I like my muscles. I like the way I move, and the agility I have. To maintain these things, I do crunches that increase in number by 5 every week. I'm up to 50 a night, and I love it. I also do yoga as much as I can, which helps me relax and stay limber.
Food is still a great love of my life. I invest emotion and effort into the food I create, because I feel as though I make it well. I want the people who eat my food to feel satisfied, surprised, delighted and taken care of when they eat whatever I offer.
Food does not equal love. Sharing means more to me than the food itself. I may not always take the offered fare, but I am never ungrateful for the effort you put into trying to include me.
I think it's important for more people to seriously consider their relationship to food, moreso than their relationships with food. I mean to say that food is our fuel. Food for us, just like Alice, will make us grow. Perhaps we won't grow taller as Alice did, but we will widen. This has everything to do with food as a fuel, and nothing to do with the cake you eat to ignore the cruel things someone said, or the annoying feeling that the promotion you slaved for all year will be handed to Barry McGingle, because he's marrying The Boss's Daughter. In that case, just like sleeping with the semi-toothless guy at the end of the bar, the comfort you seek is at best a bandage and at worst a very serious health risk for rewards that are dubious at best.
Being careful how much we take in creates so many positives! More sustainability. More opportunity to recognize how wonderous variety can be, as we make room for more unfamiliar food in our menus! More to share with the people we love, especially when holidays come and money becomes a balancing act. More chances for others to try the foods we love so dearly, as well.
I challenge you to Eat Like Alice for one week. Keep reminding yourself: "If I eat too much, I'll grow." Tell me what happens. Did it make a difference? Would writing down all you eat change how you perceive your food?
I want you to be happy. I want you to be healthful. I want you to find that wonderful place between extremes where all the possibilities exist!
Friday, November 18, 2011
Let Us Go Forth And Be Productive!
Today I was determined to be productive. I started at 9 am.
It is now 9 pm. I have made 27 brownie cookie sandwiches, filled with chocolate chip cream cheese dip. There were 16 red velvet cheesecake brownies, but I ate one. I made tuna noodle casserole. I also made Puppy Chow.
I wanted to make sure I could enjoy the weekend. I wanted to have things to snack on, and enjoy. I also wanted time later to tinker with breakfast ideas for Husband.
Sometimes, it's about unleashing your Inner Julia Child. Sometimes, it's about being prepared for an upcoming holiday. I sincerely hope, for all of you, that it has nothing to do with these things.
I hope at the end of your day, you feel as though you've accomplished creation. You've transformed ingredients from their original states into something altogether wonderful. I hope with all my heart and love that what nourishes the bodies of those for whom you care also nourishes your soul.
It is now 9 pm. I have made 27 brownie cookie sandwiches, filled with chocolate chip cream cheese dip. There were 16 red velvet cheesecake brownies, but I ate one. I made tuna noodle casserole. I also made Puppy Chow.
I wanted to make sure I could enjoy the weekend. I wanted to have things to snack on, and enjoy. I also wanted time later to tinker with breakfast ideas for Husband.
Sometimes, it's about unleashing your Inner Julia Child. Sometimes, it's about being prepared for an upcoming holiday. I sincerely hope, for all of you, that it has nothing to do with these things.
I hope at the end of your day, you feel as though you've accomplished creation. You've transformed ingredients from their original states into something altogether wonderful. I hope with all my heart and love that what nourishes the bodies of those for whom you care also nourishes your soul.
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Breakfast Revisited
I made breakfast baskets for my husband 2 weeks ago. Biscuit on bottom, shredded cheese, egg, wrapped in bacon. Baked in a muffin tin. Yummy. A week ago, my husband picked out the bacon.
Oh wow.
There is a very big difference between Oscar Meyer bacon and the cheapest bacon you can buy. I'm not saying always buy the expensive stuff, but WOW is there a difference in something you don't pay a lot for, especially regarding the care and cut of meat.
Speaking of that, WHY IS HAM SO EXPENSIVE? Sorry, had to let that out.
Anyway, The Husband and I put our massive brain power together and came up with this idea.
Seamless crescent roll dough, cooked bacon (or sausage, I'm going to try both), cooked scrambled eggs, shredded cheese.
1. Spread eggs, pork product of choice, cheese across most of the interior of the dough.
2. Re-roll.
3. Bake per directions, adding a couple minutes if interior of roll seems to need more time.
4. Slice off pinwheel style breakfast sandwiches.
No execution yet - I'll include info on what happens when I'm done trying. I'm excited to give it a shot! I really want to find a solution to a fast, delicious, healthful breakfast for my husband so he eats well and doesn't miss Mickey D's breakfast.
Oh wow.
There is a very big difference between Oscar Meyer bacon and the cheapest bacon you can buy. I'm not saying always buy the expensive stuff, but WOW is there a difference in something you don't pay a lot for, especially regarding the care and cut of meat.
Speaking of that, WHY IS HAM SO EXPENSIVE? Sorry, had to let that out.
Anyway, The Husband and I put our massive brain power together and came up with this idea.
Seamless crescent roll dough, cooked bacon (or sausage, I'm going to try both), cooked scrambled eggs, shredded cheese.
1. Spread eggs, pork product of choice, cheese across most of the interior of the dough.
2. Re-roll.
3. Bake per directions, adding a couple minutes if interior of roll seems to need more time.
4. Slice off pinwheel style breakfast sandwiches.
No execution yet - I'll include info on what happens when I'm done trying. I'm excited to give it a shot! I really want to find a solution to a fast, delicious, healthful breakfast for my husband so he eats well and doesn't miss Mickey D's breakfast.
Thursday, November 3, 2011
Pairing
It isn't about beer.
Really, it's not.
It isn't even about knowing why a thick red wine, slightly below room temp, enhances rather than detracts from that delicious medium-well steak lovingly prepared and sitting before you.
I don't even care what you drink, or even if you drink.
I want you to know, on some level, what you're doing to your tongue when you slam any-old-beverage up against correctly-seasoned-and-prepared food.
When was the last time you took a gargantuan swig of a sticky-sweet soda, then went to have a bite of dessert and thought, Really? This isn't nearly as sweet as I expected it to be. Perhaps, and I mean simply perhaps, the fact that you've overloaded the sweet-sensing aspect of your palette mere seconds before engulfing yet another sweet-tingling taste has rendered your ability to taste the balance of flavors.... oh, how does one say it.... a bit void?
Is that to say the bananas foster you ordered wasn't just a bit over-the-top? By all means, enjoy your petit fours and hazelnut-cherry fudge with delight. I am not telling you to stop. Nor am I suggesting that what you've chosen to wash down your meal with is in some way unsatisfactory.
What I'm trying to convey is that meals should have harmony. Your tongue is probably more analytical at any given moment than the rest of you. It is an entire system reset when you're told what you're about to eat will be salty, and when it gets into your mouth it's nothing but super-sweet. The soda you're chugging changes the way your dinner will taste. I promise you.
Don't believe me?
Experiment time!
Take a drink of whatever you usually have with dinner. Now eat a tiny bit of sugar. Got how that tasted? Good deal. Now, put a couple drops of lemon juice on your tongue. Did you make a face? It's okay, don't worry about it. Put the same amount of sugar on your tongue. I'll be impressed if you're brave enough to then follow that last sugar-taste with the same amount in salt.
Your body adjusts. You don't even realize that your palette normalizes itself. One of the silliest things I've ever heard in my life: "I had dinner at elBulli. Didn't make any sense at all. Just when I got into the groove, and was really understanding the flavors, out comes this bizarre thing that didn't taste right at all."
My instantaneous reaction? "Did the next course taste amazing?"
Response: "Well, yeah, but he seemed to be back on track."
Why is this? Why would a restaurant renowned for its culinary excellence (currently on a hiatus while its owners revamp/ retool/ reset the model from which their art descends) serve you something that, in the logic of a meal, seem absolutely out of sync?
To reset your palette.
That thing you didn't like, that taste that made no sense whatsoever in the larger scale of the meal was meant to throw you off. You should be a bit off balance for the next course, because the over-arching reality of the meal is taking you to entirely new territory from the course before the offending taste to the course after.
How does a 32-34 course meal that will cost you approx. $400 compare to making dinner at home for your family? Why am I even bringing this up?
You should still realize what you're doing.
A meal that tends to the sweet, like teriyaki chicken, for example, will be overpowering if everything you serve with it is sweet. A cured meat may be overwhelmingly salty, when salt is the primary seasoning in everything on the plate.
*gripe from childhood warning* Mom, don't make pork chops breaded in Italian breadcrumbs, match it up with "chinese-flavored" rice out of the box and steamed broccoli and expect me to go, "Wow, this makes sense to my mouth." There's no crunch anywhere on that plate. Trust me. Theoretically, the broccoli would still have some bite to it, but not if you're my Mother. Rubber greenery, something in the rice that looks like slivered cardboard, and not necessarily greasy but definitely heavy-in-the-stomach pork chops? No thanks, I'll make myself a salad.
Well, Miss Smarty Pants, what would you do instead?
If I had "chinese-flavored" rice in a box, pork chops, a relatively normally stocked pantry and broccoli, what would I do?
1 TBS brown sugar
4 TBS soy sauce
1 tsp ground ginger
1 tsp balsamic vinegar
Marinate room-temp pork chops (at *least* 20 minutes). Prepare boxed rice per instructions. Medium-high heat on oven-safe pan, little olive oil in the pan, get a nice brown on the outside of the meat. Add a couple more dashes of soy/balsamic vinegar, throw in the oven at 350 for 10 minutes to finish it off. Broccoli in a rack over boiling water for 3 minutes. Toss in ice bath. Remove, place on warm plate next to rice. Drizzle with balsamic, little fresh-cracked pepper. Pork chops out of oven, straight to plate. Wait 7-10 minutes for meat to rest. Serve.
Done and done.
By the way, when I was 14, this was pretty much the meal I served when my Mother (I would imagine she was tired of hearing "this meal doesn't make sense" and decided then let the little snot figure it out for herself, I've got a 10-hour workday ahead of me) left me pork chops, "chinese-flavored" rice in a box and broccoli with a note. "Make dinner tonight. Don't ask me how to fix pork chops. You're smart, you figure it out. Love you. Mom." I wasn't so fancy I figured out how to finish meat off in the oven, but the rest is pretty much the same.
For the record, I learned a lot from Julia Child. Thanks, PBS. Martha Stewart can kiss my ass.
Really, it's not.
It isn't even about knowing why a thick red wine, slightly below room temp, enhances rather than detracts from that delicious medium-well steak lovingly prepared and sitting before you.
I don't even care what you drink, or even if you drink.
I want you to know, on some level, what you're doing to your tongue when you slam any-old-beverage up against correctly-seasoned-and-prepared food.
When was the last time you took a gargantuan swig of a sticky-sweet soda, then went to have a bite of dessert and thought, Really? This isn't nearly as sweet as I expected it to be. Perhaps, and I mean simply perhaps, the fact that you've overloaded the sweet-sensing aspect of your palette mere seconds before engulfing yet another sweet-tingling taste has rendered your ability to taste the balance of flavors.... oh, how does one say it.... a bit void?
Is that to say the bananas foster you ordered wasn't just a bit over-the-top? By all means, enjoy your petit fours and hazelnut-cherry fudge with delight. I am not telling you to stop. Nor am I suggesting that what you've chosen to wash down your meal with is in some way unsatisfactory.
What I'm trying to convey is that meals should have harmony. Your tongue is probably more analytical at any given moment than the rest of you. It is an entire system reset when you're told what you're about to eat will be salty, and when it gets into your mouth it's nothing but super-sweet. The soda you're chugging changes the way your dinner will taste. I promise you.
Don't believe me?
Experiment time!
Take a drink of whatever you usually have with dinner. Now eat a tiny bit of sugar. Got how that tasted? Good deal. Now, put a couple drops of lemon juice on your tongue. Did you make a face? It's okay, don't worry about it. Put the same amount of sugar on your tongue. I'll be impressed if you're brave enough to then follow that last sugar-taste with the same amount in salt.
Your body adjusts. You don't even realize that your palette normalizes itself. One of the silliest things I've ever heard in my life: "I had dinner at elBulli. Didn't make any sense at all. Just when I got into the groove, and was really understanding the flavors, out comes this bizarre thing that didn't taste right at all."
My instantaneous reaction? "Did the next course taste amazing?"
Response: "Well, yeah, but he seemed to be back on track."
Why is this? Why would a restaurant renowned for its culinary excellence (currently on a hiatus while its owners revamp/ retool/ reset the model from which their art descends) serve you something that, in the logic of a meal, seem absolutely out of sync?
To reset your palette.
That thing you didn't like, that taste that made no sense whatsoever in the larger scale of the meal was meant to throw you off. You should be a bit off balance for the next course, because the over-arching reality of the meal is taking you to entirely new territory from the course before the offending taste to the course after.
How does a 32-34 course meal that will cost you approx. $400 compare to making dinner at home for your family? Why am I even bringing this up?
You should still realize what you're doing.
A meal that tends to the sweet, like teriyaki chicken, for example, will be overpowering if everything you serve with it is sweet. A cured meat may be overwhelmingly salty, when salt is the primary seasoning in everything on the plate.
*gripe from childhood warning* Mom, don't make pork chops breaded in Italian breadcrumbs, match it up with "chinese-flavored" rice out of the box and steamed broccoli and expect me to go, "Wow, this makes sense to my mouth." There's no crunch anywhere on that plate. Trust me. Theoretically, the broccoli would still have some bite to it, but not if you're my Mother. Rubber greenery, something in the rice that looks like slivered cardboard, and not necessarily greasy but definitely heavy-in-the-stomach pork chops? No thanks, I'll make myself a salad.
Well, Miss Smarty Pants, what would you do instead?
If I had "chinese-flavored" rice in a box, pork chops, a relatively normally stocked pantry and broccoli, what would I do?
1 TBS brown sugar
4 TBS soy sauce
1 tsp ground ginger
1 tsp balsamic vinegar
Marinate room-temp pork chops (at *least* 20 minutes). Prepare boxed rice per instructions. Medium-high heat on oven-safe pan, little olive oil in the pan, get a nice brown on the outside of the meat. Add a couple more dashes of soy/balsamic vinegar, throw in the oven at 350 for 10 minutes to finish it off. Broccoli in a rack over boiling water for 3 minutes. Toss in ice bath. Remove, place on warm plate next to rice. Drizzle with balsamic, little fresh-cracked pepper. Pork chops out of oven, straight to plate. Wait 7-10 minutes for meat to rest. Serve.
Done and done.
By the way, when I was 14, this was pretty much the meal I served when my Mother (I would imagine she was tired of hearing "this meal doesn't make sense" and decided then let the little snot figure it out for herself, I've got a 10-hour workday ahead of me) left me pork chops, "chinese-flavored" rice in a box and broccoli with a note. "Make dinner tonight. Don't ask me how to fix pork chops. You're smart, you figure it out. Love you. Mom." I wasn't so fancy I figured out how to finish meat off in the oven, but the rest is pretty much the same.
For the record, I learned a lot from Julia Child. Thanks, PBS. Martha Stewart can kiss my ass.
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Martha Stewart, For Example
Martha Stewart annoys me.
Any perspective that removes hope from possibility annoys me. Martha Stewart seems to enjoy the perspective that she is, in fact, the last of the dying vestiges of American Royalty, and as such, must vouchsafe to those bunkers where her kin are ensconced the fleeting solutions to so many agonizing problems good housekeepers everywhere have nearly died (DIED I TELL YOU) perfecting.
Did I mention that Martha Stewart annoys me?
Now, it's not that she's a brand. I can get past her speech patterns and phrasing. I can even be patient with the 28 steps she insists were necessary to make that darling ornament for her red-and-ravishing Christmas tree, to turn it from a drab eyesore into a trade-marked "good thing." I don't mind labor-intensive tasks (ask people, they know).
When and where did Martha Stewart give up her passion? This is the fundamental, underlying and overarching reason the woman makes my skin crawl.
Martha Stewart has an empire, vast and powerful. Ana Gastyer made much of her fame from her spoofs of Martha Stewart (loved the topless one, and Joan Allen as her Mother). Martha Stewart's own daughter enjoys saying "Whatever Martha" at any given chance.
I am passionate (again, ask people). My desire to make this world a better place, in addition to making myself a better me, drives much of what I do. How can someone who was driven to share "homespun techniques and ideas that bring elegance and charm from [her] Martha's Vineyard home of lore to the humble homes of the Midwest and beyond" become so self-involved she actually chides guest-cooks, explaining patiently how they're cooking their signature dish incorrectly? How is that reflective of an intelligent, inquisitive and knowledge-hungry host?
I'll answer for you: It isn't.
Do you see what I did, just there? I took your place. You aren't here to have this conversation with me, so I became your voice as well. This is what I'm talking about, specifically. Martha Stewart is supposed to be our ambassador, our conduit of questions and knowledge from people we have few opportunities to study in daily life. Rather than recalling her personal responsibility to the audience she cultivated in the 80's, 90's and through numerous cookbooks, Martha Stewart has become a Mogul.
Do you care how much time Wolfgang Puck spends tinkering with his menus? No. But you want to know how he gets that fish out of a pan so flaky and delicious every damn time, don't you. I know you do. You know you do. Martha Stewart knows this too, but it no longer applies to her station in life. She could care less how long it takes to perfect that wrist bend which means the difference between expertly tossed caramelized onions and a horrific mess your family is staring at while you scrub up, asking, "What made you think you could do that?" She already did that, 20 seasons ago.
Martha Stewart has, on the cover of her 2011 Halloween magazine, a picture of herself (of course; she's the Brand, kiddo) in make-up. I don't mean she has blush on and looks like she gets sun occasionally. She has butterfly wings attached to her eyelids. I'm not kidding.
Tell me, Mother of 3 from Des Moines, when was the last time your 3, 6, and 9 year old looked up at you with the time and patience of 86 year old men, saying, "You would look exquisite with dead aglossa wings glued expertly next to your bloodshot eyes?"
Even those younger women, whose lifestyles afford them more time and space to play with such frivolities as Halloween The Adult Holiday, I sincerely doubt will have the means to create the entire visage of Martha Stewart's cover. Because it takes more than just 1 or 2 things. This look requires: Money. Skill. Time. Patience. An audience unlikely to touch your face at any point. A wearer who will not freak out, get annoyed or at any point for any reason (including drinking) rip the dead butterfly off her face. Did I mention that the idea you'll get kissed in this outfit is about as realistic as the idea that you will, with $10 and a little elbow grease, look precisely like Darling Martha Stewart?
I hope, the next time you find yourself listening to what someone else has to say (whomever that person may be), you take into account the ways their narrative concerns vary from yours. Does this person ask the questions I actually want answered? Does the way this person reacts reflect the way I would? What could I have gained if I would have asked the questions myself, instead of the person asking them for me?
I may not always give you the information you wanted. I may give you more, or less, than you need. I do, however, strive to give you food I eat myself. I want to share a part of my world with you. Hopefully, this is a perspective you can use.
Any perspective that removes hope from possibility annoys me. Martha Stewart seems to enjoy the perspective that she is, in fact, the last of the dying vestiges of American Royalty, and as such, must vouchsafe to those bunkers where her kin are ensconced the fleeting solutions to so many agonizing problems good housekeepers everywhere have nearly died (DIED I TELL YOU) perfecting.
Did I mention that Martha Stewart annoys me?
Now, it's not that she's a brand. I can get past her speech patterns and phrasing. I can even be patient with the 28 steps she insists were necessary to make that darling ornament for her red-and-ravishing Christmas tree, to turn it from a drab eyesore into a trade-marked "good thing." I don't mind labor-intensive tasks (ask people, they know).
When and where did Martha Stewart give up her passion? This is the fundamental, underlying and overarching reason the woman makes my skin crawl.
Martha Stewart has an empire, vast and powerful. Ana Gastyer made much of her fame from her spoofs of Martha Stewart (loved the topless one, and Joan Allen as her Mother). Martha Stewart's own daughter enjoys saying "Whatever Martha" at any given chance.
I am passionate (again, ask people). My desire to make this world a better place, in addition to making myself a better me, drives much of what I do. How can someone who was driven to share "homespun techniques and ideas that bring elegance and charm from [her] Martha's Vineyard home of lore to the humble homes of the Midwest and beyond" become so self-involved she actually chides guest-cooks, explaining patiently how they're cooking their signature dish incorrectly? How is that reflective of an intelligent, inquisitive and knowledge-hungry host?
I'll answer for you: It isn't.
Do you see what I did, just there? I took your place. You aren't here to have this conversation with me, so I became your voice as well. This is what I'm talking about, specifically. Martha Stewart is supposed to be our ambassador, our conduit of questions and knowledge from people we have few opportunities to study in daily life. Rather than recalling her personal responsibility to the audience she cultivated in the 80's, 90's and through numerous cookbooks, Martha Stewart has become a Mogul.
Do you care how much time Wolfgang Puck spends tinkering with his menus? No. But you want to know how he gets that fish out of a pan so flaky and delicious every damn time, don't you. I know you do. You know you do. Martha Stewart knows this too, but it no longer applies to her station in life. She could care less how long it takes to perfect that wrist bend which means the difference between expertly tossed caramelized onions and a horrific mess your family is staring at while you scrub up, asking, "What made you think you could do that?" She already did that, 20 seasons ago.
Martha Stewart has, on the cover of her 2011 Halloween magazine, a picture of herself (of course; she's the Brand, kiddo) in make-up. I don't mean she has blush on and looks like she gets sun occasionally. She has butterfly wings attached to her eyelids. I'm not kidding.
Tell me, Mother of 3 from Des Moines, when was the last time your 3, 6, and 9 year old looked up at you with the time and patience of 86 year old men, saying, "You would look exquisite with dead aglossa wings glued expertly next to your bloodshot eyes?"
Even those younger women, whose lifestyles afford them more time and space to play with such frivolities as Halloween The Adult Holiday, I sincerely doubt will have the means to create the entire visage of Martha Stewart's cover. Because it takes more than just 1 or 2 things. This look requires: Money. Skill. Time. Patience. An audience unlikely to touch your face at any point. A wearer who will not freak out, get annoyed or at any point for any reason (including drinking) rip the dead butterfly off her face. Did I mention that the idea you'll get kissed in this outfit is about as realistic as the idea that you will, with $10 and a little elbow grease, look precisely like Darling Martha Stewart?
I hope, the next time you find yourself listening to what someone else has to say (whomever that person may be), you take into account the ways their narrative concerns vary from yours. Does this person ask the questions I actually want answered? Does the way this person reacts reflect the way I would? What could I have gained if I would have asked the questions myself, instead of the person asking them for me?
I may not always give you the information you wanted. I may give you more, or less, than you need. I do, however, strive to give you food I eat myself. I want to share a part of my world with you. Hopefully, this is a perspective you can use.
bon appetit And Slapping People, and A Snack
I like bon appetit, usually. A tidy, concise, well-written article is often a cure for all my ills, and when it comes to food, I can find it in the pages of BA.
I am, currently, annoyed and disappointed. "Always use non-boil noodles" for lasagna? Seriously? First of all, gross. Secondly, and probably more to the point, why are the revolting things non-boil in the first place? Doesn't that bother you? That is some seriously repugnant advice. Third, and finally on this point before I move on to something of actual value, I really see no value in this advice because I'm smart enough to figure out the following progression:
1. Lasagna was conceived and eventually made, for many many many years, using boiled lasagna noodles.
2. These boiled noodles added to the flavor and water-content of the dish, thereby directly contributing to flavor and texture.
3. Recipes were adjusted, better noodles were developed, and boiling continued.
4. (this is the key step) Someone thought it was tasty.
5. Survival of a recipe a majority of Americans (to say nothing of our Italian audience - Ciao) associate with family.
Nowhere in that progression does a non-boil revolution necessitate itself. I find absolutely no value in the idea that "noodles that aren't boiled will absorb more" of anything. If you can't make a delicious, boiled noodle lasagna, perhaps you have no business cooking it, and should leave your lasagna nights to the talents of Marie Calendar, or the fine people in Stouffer's kitchen. I have to say, after writing all that out, the idea makes its way across my cortex: "Do the writers/ editors at bon appetit think we don't read anymore?"
***
I need a snack. Don't you?
Puppy Chow
9 cups Chex cereal (doesn't matter what kind)
1 cup chocolate chips (mini ones work too)
1 tsp vanilla
1/4 cup butter
1/2 cup peanut butter
1 1/2 cup confectioner's sugar
Non-Food Items You'll Probably Need For This
1 Large Bowl
1 Gallon ziplock Bag
1 Large Spoon
1. Measure Chex cereal. Set aside in large bowl.
2. Into a microwave-safe bowl: chocolate chips, butter, peanut butter. Microwave on high 1 minute. Stir. Microwave again for 30 seconds. Mixture should blend together smoothly when removed from microwave.
3. Add vanilla.
4. Mix with Chex cereal. Stir until all cereal is coated.
5. Place confectioner's sugar in gallon-size ziplock bag.
6. Add coated cereal.
7. Shake, shimmy and just generally agitate bag until all the yummy pieces of cereal are finely coated in sugar.
8. Eat.
Yes, it takes less than 10 minutes to make. Yes, it's delicious, and named a million other things depending on region and intent. Now, I'm going to take my yummy snack and enjoy this beautiful fall day. Try not to get addicted; this particular snack made many appearances during my college days. Now my husband can't stop eating it. I'm just saying - sometimes the best possible thing is the simple, delightful, full-of-memory taste that speaks to soul as well as stomach.
I am, currently, annoyed and disappointed. "Always use non-boil noodles" for lasagna? Seriously? First of all, gross. Secondly, and probably more to the point, why are the revolting things non-boil in the first place? Doesn't that bother you? That is some seriously repugnant advice. Third, and finally on this point before I move on to something of actual value, I really see no value in this advice because I'm smart enough to figure out the following progression:
1. Lasagna was conceived and eventually made, for many many many years, using boiled lasagna noodles.
2. These boiled noodles added to the flavor and water-content of the dish, thereby directly contributing to flavor and texture.
3. Recipes were adjusted, better noodles were developed, and boiling continued.
4. (this is the key step) Someone thought it was tasty.
5. Survival of a recipe a majority of Americans (to say nothing of our Italian audience - Ciao) associate with family.
Nowhere in that progression does a non-boil revolution necessitate itself. I find absolutely no value in the idea that "noodles that aren't boiled will absorb more" of anything. If you can't make a delicious, boiled noodle lasagna, perhaps you have no business cooking it, and should leave your lasagna nights to the talents of Marie Calendar, or the fine people in Stouffer's kitchen. I have to say, after writing all that out, the idea makes its way across my cortex: "Do the writers/ editors at bon appetit think we don't read anymore?"
***
I need a snack. Don't you?
Puppy Chow
9 cups Chex cereal (doesn't matter what kind)
1 cup chocolate chips (mini ones work too)
1 tsp vanilla
1/4 cup butter
1/2 cup peanut butter
1 1/2 cup confectioner's sugar
Non-Food Items You'll Probably Need For This
1 Large Bowl
1 Gallon ziplock Bag
1 Large Spoon
1. Measure Chex cereal. Set aside in large bowl.
2. Into a microwave-safe bowl: chocolate chips, butter, peanut butter. Microwave on high 1 minute. Stir. Microwave again for 30 seconds. Mixture should blend together smoothly when removed from microwave.
3. Add vanilla.
4. Mix with Chex cereal. Stir until all cereal is coated.
5. Place confectioner's sugar in gallon-size ziplock bag.
6. Add coated cereal.
7. Shake, shimmy and just generally agitate bag until all the yummy pieces of cereal are finely coated in sugar.
8. Eat.
Yes, it takes less than 10 minutes to make. Yes, it's delicious, and named a million other things depending on region and intent. Now, I'm going to take my yummy snack and enjoy this beautiful fall day. Try not to get addicted; this particular snack made many appearances during my college days. Now my husband can't stop eating it. I'm just saying - sometimes the best possible thing is the simple, delightful, full-of-memory taste that speaks to soul as well as stomach.
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