Issue No. 3: Welcome to Taste Class
Plus a food news roundup, bookish thoughts, and not many recipes
Well I hope you all had a lovely July. I unintentionally took a summer holiday from my extremely infrequent dispatches, but I really feel as though I have written volumes in my mind to share. Truth is I haven't written anything. Since I was last here, my brother got married, I visited a vineyard with friends, we went to the beach, I finished a book (a rare accomplishment these days), and I made a pavlova with lemon curd that I've been thinking about for almost three weeks. Do you know about pavlova? It’s, uh, just meringue but Russian.
It's now a good bit into August, which means I am having my annual "wish I was a student" crisis where I inevitably crave school supplies and think I need to get a graduate degree in literature. (If anyone hears of Ph.D. programs accepting someone who wants to study cookbooks...) Just kidding, I am in mom school and am learning how to make food for my baby. But actually maybe not kidding re: me becoming Dr. Cookbook East? Moving on.
This issue we've got a brief note on learning to taste, a roundup of culinary reading, and a few literary thoughts ranging from fantastical novels to one of my favorite picture books.
Read on!
The Journal: Welcome to Taste Class
It's week one of real food for Evelyn.
First Day of Solids! Meet the teacher, it's me, your mother.
Here's what Evelyn loves
Cannellini beans
Here's what I love
Clorox wipes
Yes, Evelyn likes beans. Or least it seemed like she enjoyed them more than oatmeal. I don't blame her, I'd always choose a legume over an oat if it's dinner we are talking about. While she's learning about texture! and flavor!, I am learning that I have entered an era in which my kitchen floors will be perpetually dirtier than I ever imagined. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.
The thing I'm also realizing, and I do seem to always be realizing something, is that Mitch and I really do get to play a part in teaching Evelyn how to eat. Of course, her little brilliant mind and body naturally kick in when something edible is placed in front of her, grabbing and chewing and swallowing on instinct. But what she grabs and chews and swallows is up to us. And what is presented over the coming months and early years will inevitably form her taste. This is, in many ways, a daunting task. But it's also exciting—because taste is a gift.
I've been thinking about this a lot because my taste isn't what it used to be. This dreadful pandemic that has robbed us of so much comfort has even taken the experience of tasting away for some. This is not by any means the worst side effect of the virus, but it feels like the spike protein is just taunting us now. "Last one to get covid will taste rotten eggs," I imagine it jeers.
Things don't taste rotten to me, but they don't all taste like I know they should. I don't understand why this phenomenon has happened to me and not others, or why it seems late to descend upon my senses six months after I was sick. But in the last few weeks, some foods have been noticeable enough to make me feel slightly crazy. Not everything is bad, thankfully, but things I once enjoyed are, for now (I hope?), not great. Some fruits have lost their nuance and only taste like plain sugar. Peanut butter is a no-go with gasoline vibes. Yogurt and sour cream come next on the list.
I have had a bit of a panic a few times, asking Mitch to taste test something for me in case I'm way off on my seasoning. Not a great feeling for someone who loves to tell people what she made for dinner.
As I've settled into this new reality of slight olfactory distortion, relearning flavors of things that are no longer familiar, I'm watching Evelyn learn to taste. In some ways, I feel like I’m in a similar boat. Foods I take a bite of are entirely new in flavor. But I am trying hard to remember what I know that thing should taste like. I cannot experience whatever it is I'm tasting without thinking, “Something isn’t right here.” So, I wish some days I could trade places with my daughter. A blank slate of a palate. Foods I take a bite of are entirely new in flavor. The whole world to explore with no comparison. Just tasting something for what it is. Until my senses heal, I will watch her discover new things and what they taste like. I will hold on to the memory of a strawberry and hope that one day I will know its strawberry-ness again. (This is so melodramatic, and I'm very aware of it.)
But don't cry for me, Argentina. We'll be eating plenty of Cannellini beans til my taste buds come home.
The Newsstand
Why do American grocery stores still have ethnic food aisles?
from NYT Cooking
Priya Krishna just published a piece on why grocery stores still have ethnic food aisles – a question I haven't considered before. She talks to a host of people about product placement, buying habits, and holdovers from WWII-era decisions about how we shop and eat.
A Brief History of Summer Reading
from NYT Books
Much like the ethic aisle in the grocery store, summer reading is just something we have grown accustomed to without ever thinking about its origin. Why do we have a season of reading frivolous, indulgent beachy novels? Has it always been like this? The New York Times Book Review started recommending "books suitable for summer reading" first in 1897. Publishers and the public have held onto this notion ever since. As the article says, “It is a good time, and an especially good time, for reading what one wants to read for no reason except that one does want to read it.”
Mitch and I have been getting into Agatha Christie mysteries (And Then There Were None and Peril at the End House, among others), and I'm into a novel on a female apothecary serial killer in London which is entirely ridiculous and only suitable to read between June and August. What about you?
The lie of “expired” food and the disastrous truth of America’s food waste problem
from Vox
I'm guilty as any of going through my fridge and throwing out "expired" food. This article dives into how we're extravagantly wasteful with food and psychologically hooked on expiration dates. Throughout the piece, the reporter quotes Tamar Adler, who wrote one of my favorite food books The Everlasting Meal. That book will make you think twice about throwing away the sad carrots in the bottom of your produce drawer. This article further opened my eyes to the complex problem of food waste in America, a problem that is agricultural, economic, legal, and dare we say political?
Rapid Fire Foodie News
Molly Baz launched a podcast entirely about sandwiches, The Sandwich Universe. So far they’ve discussed BLTs and PB&Js. Choose your fighter.
DeVol Kitchens’ new show launched on Magnolia Network, and a DeVol kitchen might be my most desired earthly thing?
Defined Dish has a new cookbook coming out this December, The Comfortable Kitchen. Alex is a great source for healthy and flavorful recipes, if you haven’t met her yet.
The Bookshelf
I finished Piranesi by Susanna Clarke, one of the most enchanting books I've ever picked up. There are so many layers to this book. Clarke draws lots of inspiration from CS Lewis, Owen Barfield, and Samuel Taylor Coleridge to name a few.
The story follows a man named Piranesi in the world of the House — a lonely world full of halls of statues and tides that come in and out. He calls himself Beloved Child of the House, and as he says, "The Beauty of the House is immeasurable, its Kindness infinite." You will find yourself wondering about this House that he inhabits along with one other living person. Sound weird? Pretty much. But if you can immerse yourself in the world of the House, I think you will love it. I've been listening to Joy Clarkson's podcast series alongside each chapter, which has provided some incredible discussion from some amazing guests. It will only enrich your reading experience!
This Beautiful Truth by Sarah Clarkson
I started this book while we were at the beach and so far it has been wonderful. Sarah details her experience of living with extreme OCD and writes about how encountering God as Beauty saved her. Her writing is indeed beautiful and much of what she has discussed in the early chapters has struck a chord for me. For anyone who has walked through any time of suffering, Sarah's book is like a lighthouse, a beacon of light stretching across a stormy sea. I highly recommend.
My guilty pleasure this week has been reading Kay Thompson's Eloise. Yes, the book about the incorrigible child who lives in the Plaza with her pug named Weenie and her turtle named Skipperdee. I picked it up to read to Evelyn a few days ago, and I was transported back to childhood where I would obsess over Eloise's rambunctious life in a hotel. I was crying laughing trying to get through the pages. I realized as I was reading that my internal monologue feels so much like Eloise "skibbling and slomping" around.
A few favorite lines from Eloise include:
"You have to eat oatmeal or you'll dry up. Anybody knows that."
"If there is an open door I have to walk in and pretend I am an orphan and sometimes I limp and sort of bend to the side and look sort of sad in between the arms and they give me a piece of melon or something"
"If there is an exit sign I always have to go into it because there might be a mattress in there and I an lie down on it and get some rest so I can carry on for Lord's sake"
This is just precisely how my thoughts go too.
The Menu
Even though I'm retiring my suitcase for a while, it's still summer out there. Although I am dreading the hot days still to come and have started day dreaming about long sleeve shirts and honestly Christmas, I am still enjoying the fruits of summer's harvest. There are ample amounts of zucchini and tomatoes in my refrigerator to prove it. But I really have got to stop roasting vegetables at 450 degrees when it's boiling outside. I keep telling myself, "Do not turn on the oven today." And yet I cranked the old girl up again today. Pray for my air conditioning unit.
Sometimes it's hard to write up what all I've cooked because most of the time I don't even measure things. I will work on this so I could potentially give some replicable recipes. But mostly my line of thinking for planning meals has revolved around incorporating vegetables more heavily and cutting back on grains or starches in every meal. Some of my meals this week: scallion pork meatballs with rice and stir-fried veggies, baked almond chicken thighs* with roasted veg, summer pasta with zucchini, corn, and tomato. I'll work on my measurements for any of these things if anyone's curious, but I will include my go-to recipe for baked chicken from Julia Turshen. She is a genius of maximizing flavor and minimizing cleanup.
*Almond Chicken Cutlets from Simply Julia
Note: This is my absolute favorite way to make chicken. And it's Mitchell's favorite way to eat it. I followed this recipe but used chicken thighs instead this week. So delicious and easy.
2 Tbsp Mayonnaise
2 Tbsp Dijon Mustard
1/4 cup almond flour
1 Tbsp Old Bay seasoning
4 six-ounce chicken breasts
cooking spray (olive oil preferred, but I've even used a pat of butter on top too)
Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Line a sheet pan with parchment paper and set aside.
Place the mayonnaise and mustard in a small bowl and stir to combine.
Place the almond flour and Old Bay in a small bowl and stir to combine.
Place the chicken on the sheet pan. Evenly divide the mustard mixture among them and use a spoon to spread the mixture to coat the surface of each chicken breast. Sprinkle a quarter of the almond mixture evenly over each chicken breast. Spray each one with a thin coat of cooking spray.
Bake the chicken breasts until they are browned, firm to touch and register at least 165 degrees F, about 30 minutes cook time. Cut each into thick slices and serve immediately.
That’s about all I’ve schlepped together today, folks. And seeing that it is indeed August and yes I do feel more studious, expect to hear from me sooner rather than later. As always, send me your books and favorite things to cook.
Allison