Category: Laurie Colwin

Reading Cookbooks

Karen

Like I said yesterday, I’m revisiting all the cookbooks I have to look at the chicken recipes. Re-reading Laurie Colwin’s More Home Cooking, I found this bit–about reading cookbooks:

Cookbooks hit you where you live. You want comfort; you want security; you want to not be hungry; and not only do you want those basic things fixed, you want it done in a really nice, gentle way that makes you feel loved. That’s a big desire, and cookbooks say to the person who’s reading them, “If you will read me, you will be able to do this for yourself and others. You will make everybody feel better.”

 

Ode To Slow Cooking

Karen

In a sure sign of my approaching 40s, I finally got a Crock-Pot. Sunday evenings we visit Doc’s family and usually combine that with errands, so we’re not home until 8. Figuring out dinner after all of that (on top of figuring out Sunday breakfast and lunch) was getting to be way too difficult.

The Crock-Pot is everything I hoped it would be: You put ingredients in in the morning and come home to food. The first time I used it I kept thinking, “It is cooking but you are not,” and realized that’s a Laurie Colwin quote, from More Home Cooking (she’s talking about a flame tamer instead of a Crock-Pot, but same concept):

On a flame tamer, a good black bean soup takes at least 5 hours to cook, hours in which you could be writing a novel, composing a brief, arguing with your dry cleaner, or playing catch with your child and her friends. You might yak on the telephone, balance your checkbook, or go through piles of work. You might even go shopping for yourself, remembering to stop afterward to buy some bread and cheese. But whatever you do, while your soup is cooking, you are not.

 

More Laurie Colwin

Karen

I thought I would start my annual re-read of Dune  this summer but it appears I’ve taken a detour into re-reading Laurie Colwin. That’s ok, though; she’s a delight. From Happy All the Time: 

“That’s just it,” said Vincent. “I keep waiting around for someone to tell me to shape up, but no one does. I keep thinking that when I’m older, I’ll get a grip on all this. One morning, I’ll wake up and be a grownup.”

“No, you won’t,” said Guido. “You’ll just wake up and feel tireder than usual and then you’ll find that you’ve run out of patience with a lot of things you thought were normal.”

Reading Laurie Colwin Again

Karen

The older I get, the more I think that no one write about food or relationships better than Laurie. (Sorry, Mary Frances. I still love your food writing but you had a lot of baggage.) I picked up A Big Storm Knocked it Over again over the weekend and found this:

She and Teddy had simply merged their possessions and were now thinking about buying a sideboard. Jane Louise had never bought a piece of furniture with another person in her life. It seemed to her an act of almost exotic intimacy. After all, anyone can sleep with anyone, but few people not closely connected purchase furniture in common.

 

This

Karen

Yesterday I decided to be lazy and read a Laurie Colwin novel outside instead of hiking, and I’m glad I did: This is exactly how I feel whenever women talk about eye shadow or waxing or what have you.

Their pinkness, their blondness, their carefully streaked hair, nail polish, eyelash curlers, mascara, the heap of things that lay on the dressing table and that Jane Louise never used made her feel they were women in a way that she was not.

(I’m reading A Big Storm Knocked It Over. Jane Louise is my kind of woman.)

Fruitcake!

Karen4 Comments


Yesterday I made fruitcake, the kind where you raid the Whole Foods bulk aisle for fancy dried things and then soak the cake in booze and age it for a month. The Anne of Green Gables-reading part of me likes doing something so “old fashioned” (if not downright medieval); the drinker in me likes the booze part; and the adult reader in me thinks of Laurie Colwin:

Lately I have begun to think less of holiday and have turned my attention to the idea of winter, of trying to fill the house with good things… I want to make a gesture toward that longed-for simpler time by producing something that is made only once a years.

(from the essay “How to Face the Holidays,” in More Home Cooking.)

Also: BOOZE!

Laurie Colwin On Turkey

Karen

Kicking off the holiday week, here’s one of my favorite food writers being insightful about Thanksgiving:

So many other people seem to dread turkey […] In my opinion the poor turkey is merely a scapegoat for the mire of conflicted feelings flooding our psyches at holiday time. It is hard to divorce turkey from the expectations of family, the sibling rivalries, the unspoken resentments, the secret rages that occur in even the happiest families. Add to this the exhaustion of travel or the exhaustion of preparing to welcome traveling relatives, and even the tenderest, juiciest turkey may be as sawdust.

She then goes on to call just a turkey breast “turkey devoid of drama.” I wonder what she’d have to say about Tofurkey!

Reading Cookbooks

Karen

I was going through some Laurie Colwin again last week and found this:

You want comfort; you want security; you want food; you want not to be hungry; and not only do you want those basic things fixed, you want it done in a really nice, gentle way that makes you feel loved. That’s a big desire, and cookbooks say to the person who’s reading them, “If you read me, you will be able to do this for yourself and for others. You will make everybody feel better.”

Let’s read some cookbooks!

Thing #28: Learn How To Can

Karen3 Comments

Thing #28 on the list of 30 Things always seemed like it was going to be hard, but making jam is easy!

These were the berries from the u-pick farm. This is probably a year’s supply of jam for a single person.

As Laurie Colwin says in the excellent chapter “Jam Anxiety” (in More Home Cooking):
…I felt contentedly thrilled with myself, as if I had pulled off a wonderful trick. People feel this way when they make bread or have babies, and although they are perfectly entitled to feel this way, in fact, nature does most of the work. Jam making is, actually, a snap…

Food I Cook For Myself

Karen

Oyster stew is a traditional Christmas Eve or New Year’s Eve supper in my mother’s family, but only she and I like it. Mr. Isbell doesn’t care for it either, but since he was at band practice last night, I made some for a week-before-Christmas-eve dinner for myself. (And Toby. Toby, I discovered, is a big fan of oyster stew.)

I’ve started reading some M.F.K. Fisher again, to compare her with Laurie Colwin, and in Consider The Oyster I found this about oyster stew: “mildly potent, quietly sustaining, warm as love and welcomer in the winter.”

And also very popular with spoiled housecats.