In my last post, I talked about our recent decision to buy a share in Community Supported Agriculture. It’s something we’ve been wanting to do, and it’s a good year to do it. But, of course, when you get all that fresh produce, you’ve got to figure out something to do with it!
I wasn’t born a cook and was never much interested in it. I took up the mantle as a teenager to help my parents. They both worked full time, so I pitched in and got dinner on the table as they returned home from their days’ labors. But it was all pretty mundane stuff, and Mom did all the grocery shopping and planning.
My cooking and eating habits stayed pretty basic throughout college and grad school, and I became a frozen dinner, fast food, and dining out aficionado during my working years. I was really, really busy and didn’t want to spend much time in the kitchen. Now and again I’d build up a head of steam and prepare something amazing. But the day-to-day grind of meal preparation just didn’t interest me.
In summer 2015, I read Chris Guillebeau’s book entitled The Happiness of Pursuit: Finding the Quest That Will Bring Purpose To Your Life. In it, he reflects on his 10-year quest to visit every country in the world and encourages readers to identify adventures that will enrich their lives and satisfy inner longings. I took his advice and opted to prepare every recipe in the most challenging cookbook on my bookshelf.
In truth, I didn’t have inner longings around cooking. But I’d just seen the movie Julie & Julia and figured this quest would be something that I could manage on top of all my other responsibilities.
I’m proof positive that gourmet cooking takes a LOT of time in the kitchen. Mercifully, Spike provided able assistance and saved my proverbial bacon on numerous occasions. (Of course, he had a vested interest in food getting on the table!) But it turned out to be a lovely way to spend our evenings together. We spent more time talking and less time vegging out in the front of the TV.
I learned that cooking from scratch was far more flavorful than cooking with short-cuts. There is a material difference in taste between fresh herbs and dried herbs and between bottled garlic and fresh garlic – well worth the incremental food preparation time. Moreover, those complex recipes turned out to be mouth-wateringly flavorful, and it wasn’t as hard to prepare them as I feared they might be.
The quest has introduced Spike and me to several new ingredients – e.g., celery root, chanterelle mushrooms, spaghetti squash, calvados, gruyère cheese, to name a few. By stretching our boundaries, we became much more familiar with the inventory at our local grocers and in the farmer’s market. I’m awestruck by the bounty of food that we enjoy in the Pacific Northwest!
We realized early on that the quest would go slowly if we had to eat all of the food that we prepared. So, we started inviting people to dine with us, given fair warning that they’d be noshing on food we’d never made. Suffice it to say, the fellowship was even better than the food, and the food was really good. In the process, I’ve gotten over my fear of being a sub-par hostess. No one judges me. They’re just happy to eat, drink, and be merry!
I’ve learned to suspend my tendencies toward perfectionism and beating myself up when things don’t go well. We had a few mishaps in the kitchen, and we sampled a few recipes that didn’t send us over the moon. Oh well! No big deal! I have confidence in my ability to improve on my technique and the discernment to know when it’s not worth the effort.
I’ve since worked my way through 8 other cookbooks and am closing in on 1,400 total new recipes sampled. Being a “test kitchen” takes the drudgery out of meal preparation and helps turn ordinary evenings into date nights. Spike still helps me in the kitchen, and we still enjoy a good chat while we’re cooking.
I’ll look forward to the day when our social distancing restrictions get lifted, and we can have friends over for dinner again!