This week: Cooking Edited by: Robert Waltz More Newsletters By This Editor
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If you're not the one cooking, stay out of the way and compliment the chef.
—Michael Strahan
I cook with wine, sometimes I even add it to the food.
—W.C. Fields
I won't be impressed by technology until I can download food.
—unattributed internet person
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I learned to cook in self-defense.
There was a moment -- I don't remember how or where -- when I learned how to cook spaghetti differently from my mom's method. This was before the internet, so it might have been in a magazine, or maybe I actually looked at the instructions on a box of pasta. What is burned in my memory is what I thought at that time: "You mean you're supposed to boil the water first? With salt? And cook it for less than 45 minutes? Incredible!"
In retrospect, I should have figured this out earlier, when my mom managed to burn water on the stove, or when I begged my parents to give me money for the school lunch rather than letting them pack a lunchbox. And later, in college, when everyone else was complaining about the cafeteria fare, I was stuffing my face with what, to me, was gourmet food.
Not that I'm all that great a cook. We all have our strengths; mine, obviously, is comedy, not cooking. But I learned to cook more than just spaghetti and that perennial college staple, ramen.
When it comes to cooking, though, I find myself in a dilemma. When I'm not nuking frozen entrees, I find that I have to follow a recipe to the letter. This is because I have a visceral fear of making any sort of substitution. This, again, came from my childhood. My mom would be like, "Oh, this beef dish looks good. But we don't have any beef, so I'll use chicken. No tomato paste, but ketchup is close enough. And spices are optional; I'll just leave out the oregano. Also the chicken is frozen and I don't have time to defrost it."
But sometimes I find following a recipe to be confusing. I mean, sure, I learned early on that you use different measuring cups for liquids and solids, and that you're supposed to measure solids (except for brown sugar) by leveling off the measured ingredient.
Now is when I'm going to lose some non-US readers: I'm about to talk about measuring quantities in hidebound Imperial units.
So, fine, you need a cup of flour. So you sift the flour into a measuring cup, level it off, and mix it into whatever. But after a while, I realized that depending on the grind of the flour, how much air it entraps, etc., a cup might not always be a cup. And don't even get me started on measuring vegetables. How the heck do you measure a cup of broccoli, for instance? It's not a liquid, obviously. And you can't level it off. Do you fill the cup so nothing's sticking up over the rim? Or pile on however much you can without it spilling over? Or something in between? And doesn't it depend on how big and odd-shaped the vegetable is?
"But Waltz, it's broccoli; it doesn't matter. Just use however much seems right." You overestimate my ability to guess at quantities. "This looks like about a cup; let's see... nope, it's a quart. The salt, this must be about 1/4 teaspoon... nope, it's three tablespoons." No, I'm utter crap at guessing at quantities; besides, as an engineer, I need precision. Something calls for 3/4 of a cup of water? I will use an eyedropper to make the bottom of the meniscus precisely 3/4 of a cup. Six fluid ounces. Not 5.9. Not 6.1. I treat that measuring cup like a graduated cylinder in a laboratory. And if I'm making burger patties or whatever, starting with say 16 ounces of meat, I'll end up with some patties at 2 ounces and others at 6. I simply have no concept of volume unless I'm measuring it.
I'm not OCD about much, but dammit, I want my measurements to be precise.
That's why I want the world of cooking to conform to me. Don't give me cups and tablespoons and whatnot; give me the quantities in grams. Or ounces, whatever; I'm perfectly capable of using both or either system, and until I go to Mars, I don't care about the intricacies of mass vs. weight. If I have to guess at how many strips of chicken is four ounces, I'll end up with five days' worth of food, but if I have a scale? Four ounces. Not 3.9. Not 4.1. Four.
No, there's no room for creativity in my cooking (bar drinks are another matter entirely); I pride myself in being able to follow instructions precisely, which a lot of people can't seem to do. It comes out just fine that way.
Usually. |
Some food-related funnies:
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Last time, in "Oppositional Defiant Comedy" , I talked about being contrary.
Grin 'n Bear It! : Hilarious NL and one that I can readily identify with. The ODD kids? I always referred to them as PIBBs- pain in the butt brats, but ODD sounds better for billing purposes. A parent's nightmare- sometimes of their own doing. Thankfully, some do outgrow or learn to control themselves. I was an extremely compliant child, so I guess I grew into my oppositional nature. I blame it on too many run-ins with the idiotic man behind the curtain. Thanks for the laughs.
One reason I never had kids: they might have been like me.
So that's it for me for August! See you next month. Until then, try not to burn any water and
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