Of Yarn & Storytelling

Foodtastic!

There’s no denying that I am a foodie. Dictionary.com says a foodie is “a person keenly interested in food, especially in eating or cooking.” That is a rather cardboard definition to the passion I know a foodie has when it comes to all things culinary. For a while the word foodie was such a buzz word that I wasn’t even sure I was one. I’ve never felt that I was cool enough to be tagged with a word that is used by the likes of Gourmet magazine. My self doubt was dismissed when some of my friends told me they get great enjoyment just listening to me describe food from either a new restaurant or recipe I recently tried. I suppose I have a passionate way of translating from taste buds to words delicious food’s absolute sensual fulfillment. Whoa…

One of my main tenets of eating the best food is freshness: just picked from the garden, right off the boat seafood or straight from the farm meat – organic when possible. Even the best grocery stores cannot compete with these unless they have some sort of co-op with local farmers and the food isn’t shipped far from its origin.

Secondly, food that is cooked in one’s kitchen cannot be compared to restaurant dishes, provided of course that one knows how to cook or whether or not one is in Italy. When cooking in your own kitchen, the obvious but important reality is that you know exactly what is going on your plate. One of the reasons I enjoy cooking so much is it’s a fabulous and highly functional creative art that truly nourishes others who partake of the end result.

I think this is one of the reasons why I have to grow a vegetable garden every year. Since my youth year after year from a backyard garden I have picked tomatoes, all kinds of greens, beans and herbs. It’s the addictive crunch from the sugar snap peas and the teasing aromatics released from the oregano and basil plants because the garden hose accidentally brushed over them. Anyone who has grown their own tomatoes knows that summer can be defined by those large red beefsteak varieties; simply sliced and salted served unaccompanied on a plate if they make it that far. Harvesting from my tiny backyard garden brings a great sense of completeness to my heart. Perhaps this is some throwback to some ancestral gene but I know putting the work into my garden comes back to benefit me tenfold. There is also the satisfaction of bragging rights that some or all of the ingredients from a meal I’ve made came from my garden.

After Alan and I spent three weeks in Italy we were spoiled by some of the world’s greatest culinary masters. I’m not talking about well known chefs at five star restaurants listed in the Zagat guide. These literal mom-and-pop restaurants didn’t even have menus. They provided a five course meal with some pantry staples like herbs and beans but the star attractions were the ingredients that were available to them only for that season and sometimes just for a few weeks. It was like going to my grandparents’ house for a visit – relaxed with the anticipation of a culinary delight that makes you close your eyes so all your senses can be focused to the mouth and nose. This picture here shows my husband and me quite overcome with palatable pleasures. It also shows that I had several wine tastings with each course and was left fairly inebriated. It’s all part of the experience over there. Even so, with each taste my brain became infused with new recipes of my own devising by the tastes and smells of what lay on my plate.

in Castellina in Chianti, Italy

I am adamant about teaching Nate the simple act that yields huge satisfaction from planting tiny seeds in the ground that soon grow into food we eat. I know now as an adult, whether they intended to or not, my parents imparted this teaching in me by involving us kids in helping with their annual vegetable garden. So far this year Nate has harvested oregano, carrots, lettuce, and sugar snap peas. I know he enjoys it because while I’m busy making dinner and need some fresh herbs, he’ll drop whatever he’s doing to go clip some if I ask. He has eaten the peas and seems to enjoy them more while standing in the garden picking them one by one rather than having them a half hour later on his plate in the kitchen.

Very slowly Nate is learning to have patience during those agonizing days it takes for the seeds to germinate and emerge from the stark soil. Sometimes during this waiting period, depending on the time of year, we’ll go to a local pick your own farm. My favorite is Phillips Farm in Milford, NJ. Drive down the country road to get to the little roadside stand where you pick up the collecting baskets and you’ll see for yourself why visually alone I love going there. This farmer clearly shares my belief that if you respect your food, your food will respect you.

It is having respect that sums it up. Respecting the environment by growing and eating locally, respecting the plants and animals that we eat who in return give us nourishment and health, and finally respecting our bodies by eating the way God intended us to.