Cooking
Fear of Frying
On October 21, 2015 by Speranza
Like many people I’ve always had a cast iron fry pan in my repertoire but I only drag it out a few times a year for certain recipes and usually afterwards I am lamenting that I didn’t remember how badly it sticks and how I should have re-seasoned it. Then, I generally leave it out for a while to remind myself before finally getting tired of seeing it and back it goes to the dark side of the cupboard. This is a cycle as regular as the seasons yet like many things, I am ashamed to say that it seems less tiresome to slope into my car, drive to a store and purchase yet another non-stick pan once the current one starts getting that sun-burned skin going on in the middle. Disturbing! But lately I feel guilty and a bit queasy when I recall all those things about not having any kind of caged bird around if you use non-stick (how can THAT be okay?) and then there’s the entire health concern and environmental piece.
So, when I recently unearthed a truly ancient cast iron fry pan that had belonged to The General’s mother – the appearance of which was both endearing and alarming – I was inspired afresh to make things right.
Cooking . Someone's Mum
Someone’s Mum’s Rotisserie Chicken
On August 31, 2015 by Speranza Everyone has those recipes that they have been going back to and relying on for years but no one is really quite sure of the recipe’s origin! I am not alluding to misplacing a link to the Food Channel now or that really cool thing Jamie Oliver did with, well, anything really but rather,
Being A Girl . Cooking
MadMen Allusions No Illusions
On June 1, 2015 by Speranza
No one has captured an era more effectively, more poignantly and frankly, more truthfully than the creators of ‘MadMen.’
I won’t make this into a thesis paper – even though I am tempted and could go on and on with psychological examples – but the way that children were treated back in that time slot especially resonated with me.
Consider the following conversation circa 1965 between myself and my perfectly lovely mother.
ME: “When Daddy leaves the car running, I get really scared. I know you can’t drive and I worry that the car will drive away on its own. What would happen?”
MUM: (Lighting a cigarette and snapping open the newspaper) “Don’t talk daft. Now, are you peeling the carrots?”
You will notice the distinct absence of any heartfelt “When you say, I feel …” conversations, no one-on-one explanations and certainly no therapists were consulted.
And you know what? All I wanted was a practical answer like, “Hell, we’d pull the car key out” or how about “I know where the hand brake is!” I continued to fret for YEARS about this and have since relegated it to simple childhood anxiety although truly, I was just trying to find out if ANYONE would know what to do.
It’s not that unreasonable!
Cooking
Dinner Matters
On December 1, 2014 by Speranza There’s no denying the fascination we have with food and its preparation. Just check out the food network for an hour or two. Who would have predicted a few years ago that people would lie on their couch and watch someone else grilling a steak – and that would be the entire show? I don’t
Cooking . Recipes
So Kale Me Maybe
On October 4, 2014 by Speranza
I have a bit of a weekly tradition surrounding kale. As everyone knows, kale is a superfood chock full of vitamins, anti-oxidants and fibre but honestly that sharp, bitter after-snap taste taste in a frigid breakfast smoothie is just too unfriendly for me to bear first thing in the morning. (Plus that thick, brilliant green reminds me of verdant pond scum or extra-terrestial poo … ) Yet many Sunday afternoons (usually around 4pm when I am composing earnest menu plans for the following week, often whilst enjoying some kettle chips and a glass of Chardonnay) – I will revisit the notion of kale and end up purchasing a large, frilly bouquet of the stuff which then sits resentfully in the crisper, eyeing me each time I open the fridge door. (By Thursday the kale is a limp, browner version of its former self and to assuage my guilt, I throw it onto the compost heap with the others).