An old parable begins with a family recipe. In our home, it is grandma’s meatloaf. The final step of the recipe includes cutting the ends of the meatloaf. This is done, unquestionably, by all the generations that follow. Until one day, a new cook asks grandmother, “Why do we cut the ends off the meatloaf?” to which she replies, “Otherwise it will not fit in my pan!” It is just as important knowing that something works as to knowing why. Improvements and changes do not invalidate the past or traditions.
Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver is where I still pull culinary and gardening references from. I have used her pizza dough recipe for over a decade. It worked halved. It was easily adjusted to whole wheat or additions of ground flax seed. It always produced the exact same results: good enough.
That book is the reason I purchased, and continue to purchase, seeds from Seed Savers Exchange. It’s the reason I grow Red Russian Kale every year, saving my own seeds. It is where I learned that “heirloom” simply means you can save the seeds and grow the same plant the next year; that growing these plants improves biodiversity; that you want improved biodiversity for the health of your soil; that you want healthy soil to grow health plants; that it is okay to experiment, play, fail. That these are the ingredients for growth.
My bolognese sauce recipe hails from the novel The School of Essential Ingredients by Erica Bauermeister. This book, and another like it that I’m unable to recollect the title of, convinced me that with no food allergies it was my obligation and privilege to try any and every food presented to me. This was while I lived in Chicago and I joyfully spent hundreds at Taste of Chicago to fulfill this “duty”. This belief has been integral to every country I’ve visited: when someone offered me food or drink, I’ve always graciously accepted–never first questioning what it is, but giving thanks.
Even my personal mantra of sustainability, “Waste not one grain of rice” is from an early 2000s food documentary. I’ve spent hours searching, but have been unable to locate the film’s title. All I recall is a gentleman in a white robe teaching cooking classes in a temple/monastery and such is his call to his students both while they are creating and enjoying different dishes. If you’re able to find it, please let me know!
I hope you’ve enjoyed this throwback read of old items that continue to influence how I live. But, as Eric likes to remind me, it is important to question why you are cutting the ends off the meatloaf. In this vein, I have been experimenting with “new” recipes to improve beyond those that create identical, subpar results. The most recent iteration was a 36 hour pizza crust that I will review and detail in my next post.
Upcoming is an update to the substandard bagel recipe that is only slightly older than the pizza crust one, but produces unreliable results.
Unrelated to food: Since roughly 2006, I’ve wanted a wooden sign for my bathroom that reads, “In this land of fun and sun, we don’t flush for number one.” Emblazoned with palm trees and a sunset. This can be traced back to (likely) the TV show “Trading Spaces”.
The header image is a pile of books I am currently reading. I hope you’ve enjoyed this throwback read of old items that continue to influence how I live and that it’s given you pause to question what meatloaf ends you’ve been cutting off.
Eat - Drink - Both 