1.26.2010
Those lovely fish measuring spoons!
Way back, when I was just learning to cook, there was no such thing as measurements. You learned to cook by smell, by feel, by taste. That was how we did things. Nothing ever came out exactly the same. Never was a recipe written down; other than maybe a list of ingredients...which was often lost or thrown away soon after the dish was done. You memorized ingredients in your head, not by name, but by taste. A special skill in my household was being able to tip your head back, eyes closed, and taste how that particular herb would meld with that particular concoction. It worked. It sometimes failed, but not often. We like to make things a little bit more difficult in our household, because then, the end result is purely your own.
The need for utensils slowly shifted as I got into baking and realized that it was more of a mathematical science than cooking was. I still don't consider myself a great baker. There's something about not being able to drift too far from a recipe that just bores me to death. Plus, the ratio of defeat to win in baking situations is much larger.
All in all, I began to respect...and NEED measuring equipment. I got it. I was a semi-convert. Then there were the FISH MEASURING SPOONS! If ever there was a thing I could love, it was them! Oh dear lord, mother Paula Dean! I still remember the day I first saw those measuring spoons. I needed them! I went on a google fueled search for them and turned up without any luck. I don't think the world knew how important this was to me. It took something that I slightly loathed, and made it beautiful; whimsical; fun! Then, out of the blue, I was scouring the clearance section in Home Goods and there they were. There was a little wooden bracket with pewter hooks that held the four beautiful little fishies. What luck!
Well, we spent 2 great years together before the bottom fell out. My engagement ended, and in the division of property a few things were not returned. One very sentimental rolling pin of my great grandmothers and the fish measuring spoons. There was more, but those two things were so obviously, so heartbreakingly mine. (Spoons? Really? Talk about having a problem right? I know! I'm working on it!)
The rolling pin has been replaced (Thanks mom), but the measuring spoons have not. They still live in our old house on their little rack over the sink.
So, where is this going right? This is not a blog about stalking ex's to get property back. I promise! What this event forced me to do was go back to my roots. Cooking with the senses. Tilting my head back with my eyes closed to see if this will taste good with that. I will document my ingredients and NOT throw them away this time, to share with you the recipes that fill my little head.
It's also a metaphor for throwing out the rules and marching to the beat of your own drum. In the spirit of throwing out the rules, you'll also find posts on event planning, music, books...whatever strikes my fancy!
Cheers to a life without measuring spoons!
1.26.2010
Way back, when I was just learning to cook, there was no such thing as measurements. You learned to cook by smell, by feel, by taste. That was how we did things. Nothing ever came out exactly the same. Never was a recipe written down; other than maybe a list of ingredients...which was often lost or thrown away soon after the dish was done. You memorized ingredients in your head, not by name, but by taste. A special skill in my household was being able to tip your head back, eyes closed, and taste how that particular herb would meld with that particular concoction. It worked. It sometimes failed, but not often. We like to make things a little bit more difficult in our household, because then, the end result is purely your own.
The need for utensils slowly shifted as I got into baking and realized that it was more of a mathematical science than cooking was. I still don't consider myself a great baker. There's something about not being able to drift too far from a recipe that just bores me to death. Plus, the ratio of defeat to win in baking situations is much larger.
All in all, I began to respect...and NEED measuring equipment. I got it. I was a semi-convert. Then there were the FISH MEASURING SPOONS! If ever there was a thing I could love, it was them! Oh dear lord, mother Paula Dean! I still remember the day I first saw those measuring spoons. I needed them! I went on a google fueled search for them and turned up without any luck. I don't think the world knew how important this was to me. It took something that I slightly loathed, and made it beautiful; whimsical; fun! Then, out of the blue, I was scouring the clearance section in Home Goods and there they were. There was a little wooden bracket with pewter hooks that held the four beautiful little fishies. What luck!
Well, we spent 2 great years together before the bottom fell out. My engagement ended, and in the division of property a few things were not returned. One very sentimental rolling pin of my great grandmothers and the fish measuring spoons. There was more, but those two things were so obviously, so heartbreakingly mine. (Spoons? Really? Talk about having a problem right? I know! I'm working on it!)
The rolling pin has been replaced (Thanks mom), but the measuring spoons have not. They still live in our old house on their little rack over the sink.
So, where is this going right? This is not a blog about stalking ex's to get property back. I promise! What this event forced me to do was go back to my roots. Cooking with the senses. Tilting my head back with my eyes closed to see if this will taste good with that. I will document my ingredients and NOT throw them away this time, to share with you the recipes that fill my little head.
It's also a metaphor for throwing out the rules and marching to the beat of your own drum. In the spirit of throwing out the rules, you'll also find posts on event planning, music, books...whatever strikes my fancy!
Cheers to a life without measuring spoons!
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