Ok, well, Tuesday I got just a little excited about a whiff and half teaspoonful of honey on my palate and just had to carry on about it all day. That night as I pondered the day and thought about the weather forecast I’d just seen on the Weather Channel (which was 8-12″ for us; later being revised to two days of just plain Classic March Ugliness), I got to thinking about where these impulses had been for the earlier (40 or so) years of my life. Were they indeed there and it just never occurred to me to take hold of them, internalize them and do something with them, like write them down? Obviously, my love of food drove me to “do” cooking and baking, with much experimenting in the processes, but not to writing about it until more recently, beginning when my Mom was suffering from Alzheimer’s and I was looking for an outlet for my emotions.
Yes, indeed, as I look back I can identify many times when I became enraptured by food-related experiences. Here is a little compendium of items which stick out in my head:
There were the times I stood in my paternal Grandmother’s kitchen (Mary Primavera – I consider the import of her last name as a gift implanted into my DNA) and, with a mindlessness, curious to me today, inhaled taralle, home-made ravioli, struffoli and “ribbons” – all of which were whipped up on a moment’s notice and were made to seem like some sort of naturally-occurring phenomenon. This was innocent childhood feasting at its best. I can still remember her cooking me two simple fried eggs and how delicately she did them in just a dab of butter and wondered how and why they tasted so different from those cooked by my Mom. I remember the green formica rimmed with stainless steel on her counter tops and how the sun streamed into her kitchen. I can transport myself back to her even now and it fills me with emotion. I can best describe my Grandmother as bearing an uncanny resemblance to the great Madeleine Kamman – with whom I also became obsessed many moons ago – like in the 70s and 80s. I used to watch her on tv and loved everything about her. Perhaps subliminally, I was drawn to Ms. Kamman because she did so resemble my Grandmother. But, it was definitely about her food and dedication to her craft as well. When you read about the inspirations of many great chefs, their grandmothers are often mentioned as pivotal figures in their lives – I am not alone here – and, so, both of these ladies struck a common cord with me!
(so sorry for the poor quality of this image)
Crusty bread, my Mom’s cinnamon rolls, cream puffs, her sponge cake, pot roast, my Mom’s everything, her pasta fagioli, well, need I go on? My Mom was the consummate whiz-bang in the kitchen. She could make anything and it was awesome. And, her heart was in everything she made! She traversed between savory and sweet with no effort and in the latter, between yeast-based and non-yeast doughs without a thought. She loved baking and did so as much as she could.
Honey Loaf from B. Altman and Co. circa 1960s – OMG – that is for sure another of my hysterical experiences – the dedication to which I have maintained and tried to search out this recipe for literally the last 45 years or so.
My obsession with the French Pastry Shop, on Washington Street in Morristown when I was a young girl – the coffee cakes coveted and savored for the too short time, about 2 years, that that lovely French couple was there. Funny, I have hard-wired the interiors and aromas of these two favorite baking establishments.
Lemon-Basil Mousse in Rome, circa 2007!
Croissants in Paris, circa 2001.
Funny, as I was known to doodle, attempt to paint, sew, plant and write all of my life, I never sat down to try it out seriously until I began collecting my poems in a book in the 80s. Well, the rest is my little history, I guess. Writing is a good way for me to organize and record thoughts, ideas and otherwise-random mental activity.
I have been thinking of the great Madeleine Kamman and also her contemporary, Pierre Franey for awhile lately. I am always drawn to culinarians who obsess so greatly over a roast chicken as Madeleine did. I find this especially curious as, honestly, as much fuss as there is over roast chicken, I actually find it boring.
As far as Pierre Franey is concerned, I had cut out several recipes from the Times during his years there and saved them. I think it is about time to resurrect some of them.
Here is a nice read by Molly O’Neil about Madeleine Kamman. Interestingly, she was a contemporary of Julia Child another favorite of mine, apparently not in the friendly sense, and their paths seem to converge and diverge in many ways. One thing I love about both of these icons is that they crusaded for the profile women so deserved in the culinary world. Consider how late this indeed is……..
There is a myriad of articles on line about her. She and my grandmother will remain two of my most instilling role models.
As I read the article about her braising endive and could picture her there with one eye on her subject matter and one eye on Molly O’Neil. Such was her keen and astute nature.
Herewith, an oldie but goodie – Baked Lobsters with a Tarragon Stuffing and Basil Butter Sauce from Pierre Franey, circa 1985.
Is it unusual to obsess about food to the degree that I do? The media tells me no, that there are many others inflicted with this obsession. Again, a great subject for the anthropologists of the world. What makes one attach themselves to the fulfillment of one of their most banal and instinctive needs, sustenance? Well, it may be totally obvious and totally oblique at the same time, I don’t know. While we have and could fill our tummies with the most boring of foodstuffs for the purposes of survival, we have millions of people across the globe and cultures who dedicate their lives to making everything about it, place, time, flavor, combinations, venue, etc. original and sensorially alluring. A captivating question for me.
And so, I step out upon my day to once more create something interesting to eat. My choices can be banal or evocative, old or new, tired or fresh. I hope to get to the fresh! (The sky is clearing and so I am feeling much more optimistic at this moment!) While I probably won’t be making the baked Lobsters today, I will attempt some un-banal-like meals and treats. March 7, two weeks to Equinox!
Perhaps it will be this Pistachio Cake by Madeleine Kamman:
PISTACHIO CAKE
80 g cake flour
1/8 tsp salt
1/2 tsp baking powder
180 g unsalted butter
225 g granulated sugar
85 g blanched almonds, lightly toasted and finely ground
90 g shelled pistachios, lightly toasted and finely ground
1 tsp vanilla
4 large eggs, room temp
Preheat oven to 325F. Butter a 9×2″ round cake pan and line with a round of parchment paper. Butter the parchment. Dust the pan with cake flour and knock out the excess.
Combine the cake flour, salt and baking powder in a small bowl and whisk to distribute the salt and baking powder. Set aside.
In a large bowl, cream the butter until light and fluffy. Add the sugar, continue beating until fluffy and white again, 2-3 minutes on medium-high speed.
Turn the speed down to low, add the vanilla and nut flours. Increase the speed to medium-high and beat until the mixture is again fluffy – another 3 minutes or so.
Add the eggs, one at a time, beating again on medium-high speed after each addition and until the batter returns to fluffiness and scraping down the sides before each next addition.
Sift the dry ingredients directly over the batter and fold in. Turn into prepared pan and bake for 35-40 minutes. The cake is done when it is golden brown and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.
Unmold immediately, onto a plate (not onto a rack which will leave a permanent imprint on top of the cake). Invert onto a rack to let the cake cool right side up. Cool completely.
This cake may be frosted or simply dusted with powdered sugar and served plain, with whipped cream or with berries. Serves 12-16.
Recipe adapted from The Making of a Cook and Madeleine Kamman’s Savoie.
Well, today indeed, my post is more than a little disjointed and rambling – such is the impact of changes in barometric pressure and the recent weather on my brain. Perhaps I shall have a “clearer” day today now that the sky is blue.