A case of The Shoulds.

 

Dear Betty,

I never knew, as a youth, while enjoying cooking and baking, that I was a part of the gender role wars.  I just liked it, and I didn't concern myself with the notion that I might be enslaving women with my pleasure in cooking.  I have asked myself many times since "what have I done?!"  And I have seen also that being good at something can often make you an object of envy and hatred.  And so, so what?  So I only cook for a very few people, and I keep it a dark secret that I enjoy it.  I don't go quite so far as to complain about cooking, but when pals start to talk about cooking, I don't join in the conversation, and I don't let on how much I know about reduction sauces, pâte à choux, or making tortillas.  

Recently, I was asked to use a little paper wheel with spaces to fill in the things that made up my 'identity.'  Well, like anyone would, I crafted this thing oh so carefully!  I kept out anything that might make me look house-wifey, or home-makery, or crafty;  everyone hates Martha Stewart Perfection, and creative, expressive women who are doing the 'real' work, women who are 'leaning in' do not have time for such things.  Consequently, this wheel was missing a lot of the things I like to do on it.  I picked only the most boyish and intellectual of the things I spend my time on.  I avoided anything that smacked of excess or obsession, and tried to stay inside the tidy lines of 'passion.'  I am not proud of my fabricated self as detailed in the identity wheel exercise, and looking at it, I didn't even like this safe, careful person I had built of six safe, careful hobbies.

And so, again.  I am enjoying (from a comfortable, safe distance, and behind my blind of anonymity), the shifting sands around cooking these days.  I hope you will read this article by Laura Shapiro about Sam Sifton's cookbook and popularity.  Shapiro has excellent criticisms, and worthwhile issues to consider.  I also sympathize with Sifton, and I enjoy his relentless positivity and cajoling.  He reminds me of these pages, in fact.  And so, I hope that I haven't, in my enthusiasm, produced a case of the 'shoulds' in you.  As in, you should cook without (or with) a recipe, or you should read the article mentioned above.

Watch for more on my favorite topic of Not Doing soon!

Salad Days

 

Dear Diners,

It's time for a salad manifesto.  Deal with it.  

1.  It must be composed of less than you think.  If you have 8 different things in the bowl, beyond what is making up the dressing, you should take half of them out.

2.  It must have salt.  You could skip pepper, but you cannot skip salt.

3.  It must also have oil, and unless you love your salads, you should begin by doubling what you currently put in.

4.  It must NOT taste so much of acid that your eyes water.  Begin by cutting the vinegar or lemon juice that you use by at least half, and probably you want about 1/4 of what you currently use.

5.  You may put sweet things in it, but only two at the absolute most!  You may have apples, and honey, but not dried cherries also!  That is WAY too much- see the first rule.

6.  You should be able to taste all the things you have put in, which means your dressing should not be so strong that you cannot taste the lettuce or greens.

Additionally, you may put kale or other cruciferous vegetables in your salad, but they are pretty tough, so consider always when you make a salad that your goal is a kind of almost delicacy.  Cheese and nuts are fine in salad, tortilla chips are not.  Crisped up bread in all forms is welcome in salad, beans are okay in moderation.  Minced shallots are perfect in salad.  Dried fruit is acceptable, but not if you have already poured a cup of candied nuts in!  Candied nuts plus dried fruit makes your salad into a Clif Bar.

Lastly, these are not the rules for slaws, these are strictly salad rules, and they do not apply to pasta salad, bean salad, rice salad, jello salad, tuna salad, ham salad, or broccoli salad.  If you don't like these rules, make your own!  

 :  Many thanks to Judy Rogers, whose salad rules have guided me for years, and are much of the inspiration for the manifesto.