Cupboard Love

I am partial to the concept of the pantry, garde manger, stillroom, rootcellar, etc., both theoretical and actual. The word "larder" is a nice one, because it means both a place where food is stored, and a supply of food, especially for a household.

I always read the chapters which appear in some cookbooks, listing the basic staples the author thinks you need to have on hand. In fact, I must admit that I like make lists like this myself, for my own amusement. They are a bit like the game of deciding which 10 records or books or food staples you would pick for a desert island (you know, that uninhabited island with the electrical outlets.) Whenever I find this kind of theoretical pantry proposed by a food writer I admire, I want to add their suggestions to my shopping list immediately.

I also enjoy gloating over my actual pantry, which is a set of plastic covered wire shelves a previous tenent installed in a dark little separate corner of the kitchen. There, among assorted crockery and containers full of cookie cutters and pie weights, is my nice little row of jams, pickles, brandied fruits and the like. The pleasure I take in contemplating this small collection of tubby jars is nearly indecent. I expect it is a relative of the hoarding instinct which makes some people go out and buy gallons and gallons of milk whenever there is a mention of a blizzard in the weather report.

I recently acquired an out-of-print book called "Fancy Pantry", by Helen Witty, author of "Better Than Store Bought". The latter is a real gem, with all sorts of excellent, ungussied up recipes for things you might otherwise have to purchase in lesser versions, commercially. My newer aquisition, while less entirely fabulous from cover to cover, has many addtional recipes for preserving good foods in good ways. I am looking forward to trying some, and to going on about it thereafter.

Ms. Witty addresses briefly a food related contradiction I've been thinking about lately. For the most part, I'd prefer to eat food which is really fresh and delicious to start with, and which is prepared simply, to bring out, and not to mask, its natural flavor and texture. This is one reason I get uncomfortable when I read enthusiastic accounts in the New York Times, by Ms. A. Hesser, quoting fancy and respected chefs about boil-in-a bag cuisine. I am less than thrilled to hear how this method can , for example, change the texture of a fruit to resemble that of a hunk of meat. The potential for gussied up, lazy, bad food seems really high. Not to mention that anything so aggressively of-the-moment is naturally a bit irritating.

I especially resented the part where Ms. Hesser explained that the food smells stay in the bag, and don't perfume the kitchen.It seems horribly unfair to the cook. But perhaps if you cook lots of meals in a restaurant you tire of even the loveliest of food smells. I think I am pretty lucky to be a home cook, and only have myself, and friends and family to please.

The fact is,though, unless you live in California, or a Mediterrainean clime, you cannot eat all fresh food all the time. And some preserved foods are entirely wonderful ,despite or even because of the change in flavor and texture- salt cod and anchovies come to mind, as well as raisins and prunes and dates- not to mention jam. As Ms. Witty notes, if you preserve your own foods , you know what is in them, and can be confident that the ingredients are fresh and pure and tasted wonderful to begin with.

And then you also get to hoard them and gloat over them, and arrange them on your shelves for entertainment. I may just be a nut on the subject. I am presently looking for an affordable used copy of Garde Manger: the Art and Craft of the Cold Kitchen from the Cuilinary Institute. This sounds absolutely wonderful in the Amazon review by B. Marold, a very active customer reviewer, who seems to have both odd tastes, and pretty reliable judgment in certain matters. It is clearly a book for the pantry enthusiast, despite its professional restaurant emphasis. Even if I never prepare anything it describes, I know I want to read it.

I saw something unobtainable I wish I had, to hang in my pantry. It appeared in an old BBC Miss Marple/ Joan Hickson video I saw when I was visiting my mother. These videos are absolutely great for period details of architecture, dress, cars and other objects, as are the Hercule Poirot sets. (The latter are a treasurehouse of Deco details, from buildings to hairclips-whereever do they get all this stuff?) In a large period country house kitchen in one of the Marple videos (it is the sort of place with a giant scrubbed pine table and hummongous Welsh dresser) there hangs a sign painted on a wood plank. In carefully done plain, old fashioned lettering it says, "Waste Not." The period at the end is included. For some reason, I just love the period at the end.

Comments

[anapestic]

I will always think of Joan Hickson as the definitive Miss Marple because of the way she ferrets out killers by blending into the background and appearing to be an uninterested bystander. Other Miss Marples have been entirely too noticeable on the screen to be true to the character. There is a scene near the beginning of one of the mysteries (I believe that it is Nemesis, but I may be mistaken) where she learns that she has been left a considerable amount of money to solve an old mystery, and she talks about how it would be nice to have that money for luxuries that she might otherwise not afford on a regular basis. She mentions marrons glacées, and the expression that passes across her face lets you know just how much she loves good food.

[redfox]

Huh. I dig a lot of the current avant-garde food experimentation going on these days -- I think when it's done well, it's great. Changing the texture of a food enormously just by compressing it, for example, strikes me as neat and possibly really good (and even simple). Similarly, there is a long tradition of sealing foods in various ways and cooking them slowly. Sous vide is more technical and persnickety, but it's not gussied up, as such.

It's not particularly eat-at-home food for me, but I don't think it's bad or lazy.

[lindy]

Well, actually, I was sort of talking about the fresh/preserved dichotomy, rather than attempting to resolve it in some particular way.

But sous-vide, in particular, does have a fairly long tradition of bad lazy food, prior to it's latest incarnation, which is very techno-chefy. It has a lot of potential for further developments in that direction, because of the convenience factor.

People will always like to have a treat and go out for food which feels exotic, or which they wouldn't or couldn't make at home. This particular thing doesn't tempt me much at the moment, though.

And, as I said, of course, traditional preservation methods change the texture and often the inherent character of food too. It's just an interesting thing. And I'm glad I get to be a home cook, rather than a restaurant chef.

[lindy]

Anapestic- So agree re Hickson. Love her little shoebutton eyes. As I recall , Miss M. also relished the thought of being able to afford a partridge, now and again, all to herself.

[tanvi]

I'm also glad to be a home cook, cooking from the pantry and playing around with recipes. It's very rewarding and satisfying to prepare food as it is to consume it. At a restuarant, the former pleasure is erased. Though I love eating out for special occaisions, I much prefer a home-cooked meal, especially if I did the cooking (though of course being cooked for is nice too, isnt it?)