Peeps are one of my top favorite creations in the food world, an opinion I’ve been told many times is not universally shared.
I inherited a bunch of community cookbooks from Mom and bought a couple more in thrift stores. The recipes in them are anchored in the character of the region where they were collected, the products of local PTAs, church groups and ethnic societies. They’re also a fine guide to food fads.
Spring is here and it’s time to rejuvenate our bodies and spirits in the form of historical tonic recipes.
If the virus doesn’t get us, our hippocampus will. And with that I forced myself to get up and head to the kitchen. Maybe I could find an alluring recipe.
It’s always a good policy to let people know when you’re going to write about them. It’s better if you do it before it’s published but I figured Stephanie wouldn’t mind. Yesterday, after posting my piece where she is the star of the show, I wrote to tell her that a tiny bit of the world would be reading about her. And then it got interesting.
I rarely comment on her posts but this one was so admirable and meaningful to me that I told her she was my hero. She wrote back, “I’m jonesing for lemon meringue pie!”
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.