On the table beside my computer, there is a recipe book titled “Home Cooking.” The front cover of the book shows a little girl in a Christmas apron rolling cookie dough, and on the back cover are seven children eating wide slices of watermelon on a summer day. The pictures could have been taken yesterday, or a hundred years ago – things like fresh fruit, homemade cookies, and family or friends to share them are constant comforts in a world where technology changes faster than the weather.
As human beings, what we cook and what we eat is not just about the latest kitchen gadget, food fad or miracle nutrient. It is the foundation of life – it is the chain that connects mother to child, farmer to consumer, ancestor to descendant - yesterday to today, and today to tomorrow. It is intensely personal – it is what we put into our bodies, and what our bodies are made of. It is also unavoidably social – it is ethnic heritage and family tradition. By eating the food of another culture, we can experience for a moment what it is like to be a part of that culture. Yet even within the homogeneity of a particular culture, each person who cooks brings his or her individual perspective to the process. The food on your table is the creative expression of the person who cooked it; but without food, you would die. Thus, cooking is the only indispensable art.
I can’t claim to be much of an artist, but this weblog is a record of my own adventures between kitchen and table. This is mostly so that I have a record of what I cook – but also, it is because whatever I cook, I end up emailing my mom the full recipe. You see, my mom is the author of “Home Cooking” – one of the children eating watermelon in the picture was my grandfather, and I am the little girl on the cover. You just can’t extricate food from family, tradition, or communication – so this is my contribution.
