To help us through this difficult time, let’s gather a shred of historical perspective by leafing through a couple of old cookbooks written during difficult times.
As we enter our third week of confinement, I have to be honest and tell you we’re pretty sick of one another in this house. And so we had a virtual dinner party.
Food is the one elementary need we all have, feeding a comfort we can share, especially in troubled times. I finally remembered this and slapped myself out of isolation funk. Then I pulled a large bag of bones from the freezer to make beef stock.
It’s not hyperbolic to say the world shifted a little in having to contemplate the possibility that a recipe core to my identity, that was passed from one woman’s hand to another and then another could not be the total of its sum.
The son recently told me that he tasted his first burrito in a small storefront restaurant on Fourth Avenue. He and his friends were out gallivanting, up to no good, which can make fifteen year old boys very hungry and grateful to find a restaurant still open pass their curfew. That first burrito was buried under a salsa verde and he can still taste its fresh savory heft.
Last night I made them for the eldest but we all sat around the table too long and I wasn’t into writing until 2 AM to make my deadline.
There’s another issue I have about the Rage Baking controversy that has not been explored yet: Would Tangerine Jones have even been offered a place among the book’s elite lineup of contributors?