Dinner Matters

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 recall anyone back in the day being remotely interested in their dad’s BBQ ritual even when it involved dousing the charcoal with that customary shot of lighter fluid; of course, these dads also did not use hair product and nor did they concern themselves with marinades or preparatory spice rubs. What kind of Nancy-Boy would consider “resting the meat” either? Any juices – returning or otherwise – were duly pressed out by the chef himself as he conversationally flattened burgers and steaks alike. Thanks to FoodTV we now know this is not okay. We have also learned about herb butters, aromatics and how a sprig of rosemary makes a tasty brush for applying sauces …

Bookstores (like my own kitchen shelves) are swollen with dozens of glossy, expensive books that tell us how to make the Ultimate Grilled Cheese and transport us to a world where pickle choice and condiment selection occupy entire mornings. Co-ordinated or fashionably faded linen napkins are always clean and readily available. Is it the near-extinction of stay-at-home mums that fuel this devotion? Is it because feeding our own children is one of the few things that we can really do to control our collective anxieties about the state of the world? (And I’m looking at you Martha Stewart and Real Simple magazine as well – they keep stoking the notion that we really can create a haven wherever we live, a controlled, organized space where everyone feels safe and happy. Which actually would be a Good Thing except that this kind of lifestyle often seems to require Hunter boots and a team of personal gardeners). But nonetheless, I haven’t given up the dream and I will often turn to reading about food and its preparation (especially helpful if I am stressed out or unable to sleep) from Nigel Slater or Jamie Oliver or Back in the Day Bakery

When the rain is ticking against the windows and there happens to be a chicken slow roasting away in the oven, the smell that builds throughout the house is nothing short of celestial – and more importantly it’s the smell of love and caring. Food and meal preparation is an act of love after all and perhaps that is why we crave it. But cooking is, unfortunately, another time thief and I don’t want to waste that time to create a solid, hockey puck more suitable for livestock than a birthday ( even if it does have spelt in it!) If no one eats it, what’s the point? As one of my boys asked when he was very young and sampling a homemade but crumbly wheat germ granola bar: “Isn’t this what we fed those llamas at the zoo that time?”

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