So I’m starting a new blog, surprisingly about cooking as opposed to synthesizers, which is what I more usually write about. I’m not a chef or a gourmet cook, I’m just a regular guy who likes homemade food. And I don’t have a ton of time (who does?) so I tend to make a lot at once so I can eat for a few days rather than just making a single meal. I also tend to use tools that do the work for me if I can, things like crockpots and bread machines. Some may see that as cheating, and in some ways I agree. On the other hand, it’s hard to argue with a house full of beef stroganoff smells, especially when I can cook once and eat four times.
I’ve always liked cooking from scratch, and in some ways it all goes back to when a friend’s father showed us how to bake bread one summer. No idea when that was. Perhaps I was 10? 1970? Couldn’t reliably say. Regardless, the guy was kind of cool. He kept bees, baked bread, grew vegetables, etc. My parents did cook as well, but let’s just say there was a sizable amount of canned vegetables in my youth. To be fair there was also a good amount of fresh farm-stand food too as we spent summers in rural upstate New York. But perhaps it was because I was aware of the difference between canned peas versus peas picked off the vines in garden that’s made me like actual ingredients as opposed to boxed food. Or that one summer when I grew my own tomatoes. There is just nothing like picking a tomato or two and having them in a salad 10 minutes later. I mean, it’s just not that difficult to make a cake using flour and sugar, and it’s probably a thousand times better tasting than a box cake. Or cranberry sauce made from cranberries as opposed to coming from an opened can. Or the way people marvel at my “famous” homemade lasagna. It’s just noodles, sauce, and cheese, people!
And my dad would make pancakes from scratch. I remember it as being all the time but perhaps he only did it once in a while. I make pancakes too, but although people have been known to rave about them, which always makes me just shake my head as they’re just pancakes, somehow I’ve never been able to figure out my dad’s technique, and alas mine are just not the same. Mine are darn good, but they’re just pancakes. Or even just his scrambled eggs. He somehow put milk and Worcestershire sauce in them but I’ve never been able to figure out the magic formula.
And my mom, well, she’s a whole ’nother story. In fact, she’s many family stories. Many of which she told herself, with gusto. One of them was how she tried to make frozen peas and burned the same water three times. Things like that. But she also made the most amazing Thanksgiving dinners, for 20 people, from scratch, more or less by herself. And she catered my sister’s wedding, which I remember as amazing, although I’m going to call my sister and get a second opinion on that as I was just a kid.
So I never intended this to be any sort of an essay as it was just supposed to be a brief introduction. I was just intending this to be more along the lines of, “hey, I’ll be putting up posts about my recipes, the tools I use, and the occasional philosophical discussion about how the refrigerator’s radically changed western culture.” That sort of thing. And now I’m off to the supermarket to get the last few ingredients I need for my stroganoff. Perhaps I’ll post the results later today.
No comments:
Post a Comment