Cooking and Gadgets

Wednesday Night at Chez Toi

Wednesday was a hellish day. Because you left your Blackberry in a restaurant the night before, you failed to remember about the four people coming over for dinner that evening but were conveniently reminded of it when you listened to your messages after coming in the door just after 6 pm. “Really excited to see you guys tonight – what wine can we bring?” At that moment, just when you were looking forward to watching the Dexter episodes you missed over a leisurely dinner of re-heated pizza and beer did reality bite you in the ass.

You realize there is no time for shopping and you will have to go with what is in the refrigerator. You also know that the only help you will get from your partner is washing up after dinner is over. You open the fridge and that cold eerie incandescent light hits you as you search each shelf – no meat but some good looking kale, scallions and an array of great condiments. And then you thank god for giving man the insight to invent freezers.

My Tortillas Are Like Snowflakes

I am a control freak.

I think most good chefs are. Leaving things to chance is how you get in trouble in the kitchen- so I’m an avid organizer, chronic double checker and maniacal listmaker.

But food is funny about control. I am not a machine that orders chemically processed and manipulated items into submission. The best ingredients we all cook with are fluid, not static. They come from the land, sky, soil and sea. As much as we understand the science behind nature, it’s important to remember its unpredictability.

And that, your honor, is the case for the defense.

Perfect food presentation is my Achilles heel. I fantasize about serving scrumptious morsels of food that no one wants to touch – let alone eat- because they are just so beautiful. I spend a lot of time in the kitchen with my inner critic (I call her Martha, for pretty obvious reasons) telling me I’m not good enough.

My First Cookbook

My first cookbook at the ripe old age of 3 was the Betty Crocker's Cookbook for Boys and Girls, a first edition. We had a little people size table with four chairs, a miniature china dish set, silverplate flatware and a nice tablecloth with candlestick and a vase. In my mother's kitchen we both had a set of children's size Revere Ware pots and pans along with a set of small size baking pans. It must have been my Mother's Suzuki method of teaching us how to cook and dine.

I enjoyed cooking from this book because it was my first but I didn't like all the recipes that called for package mixes. So, after a deep conversation with my Mom about you can't call it cooking if you open up a package she agreed to get me The Joy of Cooking. Butterscotch brownies and miniature pies were my specialty...

The Kitchen Survival Kit

The TEN THINGS (even if you don’t cook) to keep in your KITCHEN at all times (so you can make yourself something decent to eat for breakfast, lunch or dinner) even if you only shop for real food once a month:

Happy Happy Joy Joy

I hate 3:00 p.m. on a school day. It means I’m a failure. Once again, I’ve failed to come up with a “healthy snack” for my ravenous Varsity Cheerleader. Our routine was to just go over to Chipotle which wasn’t really great because those burritos, even though they were pretty clean, would stuff her until around 5:30, at which time, I’ve lost the will to live because I’m tired and I don’t want to come up with any kind of dinner, so she’s left to forage which makes me feel like an even worse failure.

And, for the record, all those parenting books that suggest those ‘healthy snacks’ are full of it. No kid I’ve ever known, except maybe one that grew up on a commune, would ever think that shit is good. “Oh yummy, celery with peanut butter and raisins! Ants on a log! Thanks mommy!” There’s also Amir. He’s the Fox that led Pinocchio to the world of the Lost Boys, otherwise known as the guy with the snack truck parked outside the gym. I can’t tell you how many times my daughter has come to the car with a piece of cellophane wrapped cake bigger than her face along with a jug of orange Gatorade. Jesus!

It’s a landmine of insulin torment out there. BUT…there are flashes of genius.

Cooking Techniques and Kitchen Gadgets