Little Chef Kit/Pots and Pans Gift Set for the budding kid chef:
I wish there were sets with adult-sized aprons!
Citibabes Store, $95
Holidays inevitably involve a lot of talk about food, and much of it is guilt-ridden. “This is so bad for me,” “I really shouldn’t be eating this,” and on and on.
At these times I am reminded of what a different perspective I have than most people when it comes to what’s “good” and “bad” for us to eat.
Real Food by Nina Planck will likely convince you, as it did me, that bacon, butter, cream, beef, lard, and other animal fats can in fact be good for us…
…if they are organically/sustainably/humanely/locally raised and produced.
Indulgence by way of responsible consumerism. Works for me. (Yum, butter.)
The Reach of a Chef by Michael Ruhlman follows The Making of a Chef and The Soul of a Chef, neither of which I have read. Thankfully, they were not prerequisites for understanding or enjoying The Reach of a Chef.
Thinking about food, cooking and restaurants through the eyes and minds of chefs was interesting and almost made me want to be a chef myself. Even more, it made me want to eat at the restaurants at the best and most innovative chefs in the world. Specifically, I am determined to make it to Grant Achatz’s Alinea in Chicago.
So determined that I wrote a [fictional] poem for a contest on Eater to win tickets to an book/tasting event hosted by Achatz in New York on November 6. I don’t know yet if I won. And as far as I can tell, Eater is taking its (his? her?) sweet time in choosing a winner, and even in determining a deadline by which to choose a winner.
But I do have it written on my calendar. I do, after all, enjoy contests.
There are two types of people: those for whom season dictates food choices, and the rest of us.
Until recently it didn’t occur to me to think too much about seasonality when grocery shopping, choosing a recipe out of a cookbook or ordering at a restaurant. Sure, if a particular item was bountiful I might be drawn to it, but it was more afterthought than forethought.
Reading books about food has helped make local seasonality a prime consideration in my food choices. After foregoing the supermarket’s expensive Australian apples all summer, I am very glad for a dozen apple varieties to be in their prime in New York currently. Today I went apple picking at Weeds Orchard (great name). 89 cents per pound, crisp and juicy, and a perfect complement to brisk October air.
Now if only I can do without asparagus for six more months….
There are two types of people: those who read books about food and those who don’t.
In my experience, nobody has anything against reading books about food, and the people who haven’t simply haven’t gotten around to it. And once you do read a book about food, you’re likely to read more. There’s something addictive to reading about recipes, where food comes from, and various food cultures.
I loved Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, an autobiographical collection of stories and articles by Barbara Kingsolver, her husband, Steven L. Hopp, and her elder daughter, Camille Kingsolver.
It’s a wonderful starting point for the food-book-novice because it’s easy to relate to and entertaining. It provides condensed summaries of agricultural and dietary issues and gives practical tips for how we can all begin to eat a bit more ecologically and nutritiously. A corresponding website provides additional information and recipes.
My favorite character is the younger daughter, Lily, whose burgeoning chicken business reminded me (to an alarming degree) of my 9-year-old friendship-bracelet enterprise. And babysitting business. And school fundraiser coupon book sales.
