Cooking

This week I have had a few mornings off, and that means I have been in my kitchen early in the morning.  On Friday I baked two loaves of bread and one went into the freezer.  Today I filled the crock pot with apples and pears from my CSA box, and persimmons from the neighborhood.  I am hoping that after several hours of cooking they will become a nice topping for the ice cream that we will be serving friends tomorrow night after dinner.   Yesterday Tyler and I journeyed to Old Oakland and we bought some beautiful hand crafted sausages from a local purveyor.    This morning we had sauteed sausages, potatoes, and leeks for breakfast.  The leftovers have been combined with some chard.  After all had cooked together for a bit, I added a bit of cream and nutmeg.  This will be a good base for a pasta sauce, casserole, soup, or even a quiche.  This is the cooking my mother taught me.  The cooking I call, "one thing leads to another."  

It is not that my mother was frugal.  She was not.  However, we lived 60 miles from the grocery store.   There was no such thing as looking at a recipe, which we very much enjoyed doing together, and then running to the grocery store to buy the ingredients.   We made do with what we had or we cooked something else.   

 

Cooking in the morning gives me a profound sense of God.  We are given the gift of edible food from this earth, and from these individual elements, we can create something nourishing, or at least tasty, for our family, our friends, or even for a quiet meal alone.  One meal leads to another, and these meals connect us to those who have come before us: those who have taught us to cook, and those who have sat, or will sit, at our table.   As I write this, Tyler is in the kitchen tending to a pan of flour that he is browning for the beginning of a gumbo to be shared with friends tomorrow.  I hear his continually stirring and am amazed at his patience.  I am starting to smell the browning process, and it is beautiful; it simply smells warm. Tomorrow, we will splurge and go to the market to pick up a crab or maybe some shrimp.  I plan on making cornbread, but herbed biscuits sound good as well. This celebration has nothing to do with 2013 coming to a close. That means little to me.  We are celebrating connection.  That we have food to share and friends to share it with.  

   

Tyler pulls celery and bell pepper from the refrigerator and an onion from the basket on the counter. The stored homemade stock has been thawed and the roux is being created.  Blessed be.  

  

May you all feel deeply connected to those you love. May God's presence be known to you in your kitchen, or wherever you might be today.  May such love carry you into tomorrow, and every day thereafter.   May that love be shared, savored, and lived.