Food for Thought: Where Is the Love?
Ever felt the hate on the plate?
Back some years ago I picked up a novel titled “The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake”. It started with an interesting premise: just before her ninth birthday a girl discovers that she can taste the emotions of the people who made her food. She tastes her mother’s depression and frustration and later discovers, with the help of her older brother’s friend, that it’s the unconscious emotions of the cook that she can feel most.
While magic realism isn’t one of my preferred genres you can probably guess why this book captured my imagination. It’s so true, isn’t it? Some meals are like a snuggly hug and others taste like resentment on a plate. Why does this happen?
First, not everyone likes to cook. I mean, if you’re reading this you probably do like to cook, and probably like it a good deal more than most people. But even for those of us who enjoy cooking it gets really f*cking boring. And for most of the last couple of years the food you have been eating has either come from your own kitchen or out of a takeout box (which does no cuisine any favours).
Forget the sadness of lemon cake – try The Terminal Ennui of Pandemic Chicken.
So how get your cooking mojo back after the long Covid winter? How do you show the people you love (that includes you!) that you still care?
Eat seasonally, but brighten it up.
It’s the broken record of the locavore crowd – “Eat Seasonally!” That’s all well and good when you like somewhere like central California with different temperate climate zones within an hour’s drive. It’s the dead of winter where I live and “local” produce is pretty limited to the white/beige/brown end of the colour spectrum. But you can add some pops of colour by embracing the roots and using the colours of beets and carrots to liven things up a bit. If the price is the same get the purple cabbage. A bowl of citrus fruit on your table can add life to any number of dishes. Try shopping with a colour palette in mind rather than a rigid list.
Embrace your classics.
Old family recipes stand the test of time for a reason. They are usually handed down from one generation to another because they WORK. The kids like them, the adults like them, and in the dark days of winter it’s totally reasonable to bring out the festive recipes for a second lap. Who sez that those cookies are only for Christmas? Anything that triggers happy memories is fair game when you are seeking inspiration and connection.
Treat yourself to small batch luxury.
I don’t know about you, but I grew up thinking that canning or pickling was an all day project. The thing is, it really needn’t be. You can pickle the odds and ends of your fridge in about 15 minutes and those are 15 minutes are well spent. A sauce made from the wilting branches of (overpriced) herbs, a single jar of jam made from frozen fruit, or a bit of pickled something will brighten a meal, avoid waste, and give you an inordinate sense of accomplishment for the amount of effort expended. Your Grandma would be proud of you too. I made these pickled turnips (the kind you get with shawarma) in about 10 minutes. This zhoug sauce took even less time. Both will be brightening my lunches all week.
Give your future self a break.
There are some days where cooking just isn’t going to happen. You might be busy, you might be away from home, or you might just be too ticked off with the world, the people you live with, and possibly yourself. But if you can pull a few portions of a beautiful stew, a ragu, a soup, or a slab of cake out of your freezer you can remind yourself of a better world when you’ve had enough of this one. Plan for leftovers, stock in portions and with proper labels and you’ll feel better about life in general.
Get mindful.
I know, another overused phrase. Not all of us have the time to meditate while chopping onions. But what we can do is take a few seconds while our hands are occupied with the busy work to remind ourselves of WHY we like to cook and for WHOM we’re doing this. For me, making the kiddo’s school lunch in the morning isn’t the most fun; the caffeine hasn’t kicked in and I’m at that age where it’s possible to “sleep wrong” and ache in the morning. I remind myself that I make my daughter’s lunch in the morning because I want her to enjoy it - a sandwich that’s spent the night in the fridge just doesn’t taste good and the bread gets stale. But as I’m slicing the bread just the way she likes it I remind myself why I do it; I love my kiddo. I want her to enjoy lunch as a break in the day and to not think of food solely as fuel.
And look, I get it. When I worked with food all day in my restaurant life I barely wanted to think about it when I got home. There’s a reason why chefs are reported to exist on beer, ramen, smokes and rage.
But the fanciest and most expensive food can be terrible and the most humble soup can be a gift. Food is a great deal more than just ingredients - it’s a an expression of who we are and what we bring to the plate. So make the best of what you have, approach with some love in your heart, and if you plan things right you might just have the love you put in come back around to you.