coat[e]rak newsletter

issue 6

Setting the table in wartime, The Finale:

CORNUCOPI-YEAH.

“I went to the open market as I would have done in Zagreb on Saturday mornings, trying to maintain the routine of everyday life, because I know it helps. Piles of red pepper, the smell of ripe melons, fragrant honey in small glass jars offered for sale by locals, green heads of lettuce, the pungent odor of fish, all gave me a feeling that I was at home there, picking up pears, tasting grapes, touching reality with my hands as if I were privileged, or as if that touch had the power make me feel alive, present, there.”

-Slavenka Drakulic

The Balkan Express

Instinctively, when I think of the word “Cornucopia” I think of coloring book fruit baskets that only have red-mealy apples and pumpkins. I think of hand-outlined turkeys and itchy anticipation for no-more-school. Lots of faded colored paper cutouts, the ones with soft edges so you wouldn’t get a papercut. I see a Puritanical Lord-Farquaad-haired Pilgrim and a Native American Indian standing two-dimensionally side-by-side in front of a table, Last Supper style. They are positioned to each other as you were for your graduation photo with your middle school principal - awkwardly unsure of why you were there, being handed a “diploma” that meant nothing and you knew it but you also were kind of excited because there was cake and whispering with your friends afterwards about how you got to stand next to your crush and how they kind-of-probably-maybe-most-definitely touched your hand.

That’s a ceremony for nothingness. A ritual to give kids an official transition from the inexplicable and incomparable limbo-land of preteen-atrocity to the world Beyond. A marker for the last time they’ll ever truly feel like they know what’s ahead of them. Growing up, Thanksgiving always felt kind of like that - the pregame before the Big Leagues of Christmas. It still feels like that. That awkward low-frequency of being older and knowing that the holiday historically sucks, but also liking that there’s pie and a break from work and an excuse to lounge all day and gossip with family or friends.

I am no hum-bug about celebrations. I love them. Embrace them. Invite them. Am planning on inventing some. Holidays and festivals and hoop-de-dos are an essential part of the human flesh experience. I even love the middle school graduations. They are probably some of my favorite kinds of moments, in fact. I would go so far as to say that celebrations are as essential as any other type of need we project. My official email signature is when e.e. cummings says:

“damn everything but the circus.”

It’s why this particular year and all of the holidays and celebrations together that have been minimized or missed altogether - Easter, Rosh Hashanah, Ramadan, Diwali, Halloween, birthdays, weddings, funerals and so many more - are tearing at us. To celebrate is innate. Essential. To gather and to share food, particularly, in marking moments on our respective calendars is a part of the human culture. These things are not just a gesture and certainly not a modern invention. There is a deep and real and physical reason why we gather. It is for vitality, it is for necessity. It takes us outside of our everyday working machine selves and allows us to be. It is no small thing for the health of our brains and bodies. So this year, with the many compounding missed celebrations and cakes and even the awkward distant relative interactions, it is felt viscerally. We are carrying it in our bodies.

It is also a reason why I believe pouring ourselves into the ritual of cooking and/or decorating our homes is so important at this time. Tapping into ancestral and familial threads of existence and domesticity, even if they haven’t been tradition before. Even if you “aren’t creative”. Celebrations are not about creativity, they are about being human together. Others have done the work ahead of you, you only have to do some light research. Prepare for what you can bring to the table in the coming years. Perhaps look at this as a time of fermentation, preparation, of intent even if apart.

“It seems to me that our three basic needs, for food and security and love, are so mixed and mingled and entwined that we cannot straightly think of one without the others. So it happens that when I write of hunger, I am really writing about love and the hunger for it, and warmth and the love of it and the hunger for it… and then the warmth and richness and fine reality of hunger satisfied… and it is all one. “

-MFK Fisher

The Art of Eating

This is not some feeble attempt to “reinvigorate Thanksgiving”. Because honestly, fuck that colonialistic nonsense. A middle school graduation has more merit than the origin of this holiday. We need to blow up the day and advocate for it to be one for focus on Indigenous Peoples. What would it be look like for American '“Thanksgiving”, to be infused with meaning and learning and connectedness? What if it was an actual Giving towards First Peoples? A true offering towards them. It wouldn’t be “Thanksgiving” though, because to say “Thank You for Your Land we have Pillaged and Mis-used” seems a little too cheeky. What if we actually gave apologies and reparations on this day? These are things I am only starting to think about in this latter part of my life and hope to incorporate more and learn more about as my life goes on. Sustainably and sincerely.

And - here’s a concept - we still get to keep “Thanks-giving”. But brand new. And like, just plain-ol thanks giving, paired with the acknowledgement that the “Old Thanksgiving” was wonky and outright stinky. Because as I get older, celebration centered around the people who are special to us and nothing but food and gratefulness to focus on now has become a favorite time of mine. I didn’t realize that the thing that I felt so bleh about as a kid would be the central crux as to why I think it is (theoretically and divorced from its original intent) one of the best holidays. It is devoid of capitalism. It is sharing what you have and dedicating a whole freaking day to cooking and eating and lounging, for goodness sake. (And maybe your crush will be there, too).

A remedy for when you feel a head cold coming on: 

-Buy very very hot italian sausage (veggie sausage might work, but it needs to be very spicy and you should probably toss some kind of sliced chilli peppers in the pan for good measure)

-Cook on med-high and stay in the kitchen

-Put a kettle on for hot water (will use later)

-Wait for it

-Now the spicy peppery mix is floating in the air, wafting through the kitchen and up your nostrils tickling your nose hairs 

-let yourself sneeze and sneeze, and cough and cough as much as you can stand - don’t be afraid to really let it all out

-(Keep a roll of tissue near by to clear the gunk from your nose - this is good - the sick is getting out)

-Check the sausages to see if they are fully cooked (impt. If they are real meat)

-Blow your nose once more for good measure

-Place the hot sausages on a plate, you can add some toast and eggs or greek yogurt on the side if you wish

-Pour hot water into a mug with tea or coffee (no cream for now, don’t want that mucus-y build up)

-Enjoy.

-Guaranteed you will feel 100% better

*This method not approved by any known doctor - Western, Eastern, Northern, Southern or Otherwise. Nor is it a method to prevent COVID-19. If you are pregnant or have spice-intolerance, please ask your doctor before participating in Hot Sausage Method ™.

The Ritual of a Simple Meal

By guest writer, Rachel Blume

Rachel Blume is a personal chef and mother to two near-perfect, nearly-five year old twins, Penny and Flo, and hails from Downers Grove, IL. She is no stranger to making a feast from a single pinto bean. She was kind enough to give her two cents on pantry, bare-bones cooking a-la good old fashioned Food Columnist style.

What I personally find more satisfying even than the taste, texture or complexity of a meal is the art of it’s preparation.

The response I hear more often than not when asking a neighbor what they’re cooking for dinner is usually something along the lines of…’I’ve got no idea. We literally have no food in the house.’ My response to that is always: ‘Yes, you do.’

Our dried bean supply is currently more ample than anything else in our pantry.  I swiftly pour out about a cup’s worth of cannellini beans into a glass bowl and cover them with a few inches of cool water, swirling them up as I go.  A quick glance into our fairly empty fridge produces the last few stalks of celery, a beautiful yellow carrot, and half an onion.  I notice, regretfully, the almost entire third pound of sliced deli ham my daughter insisted on adding to last week’s grocery haul, largely uneaten….I make a mental note to toast it on a sheet pan, transforming it into a crude, but just as delicious, bacon.  And ah yes, those last few dusty potatoes from our CSA, gone these many weeks,  far from perfect with eyes sprouting all over and mostly shriveled skin.  They’ll do nicely. 

What I beckon my fellow kitchen comrades to do in these moments of despair, is to find solace and even excitement in the ritual of preparing a simple meal.  If what you have to offer to your table is no more than a bag of frozen veggies and the bottom of a bag of rice, have fun with it.  Take pride in it.  Even the quickest of Google or YouTube searches can take you down the most worthwhile of rabbit holes.  Watching a video on ‘The best way to cook rice’ can be the most practical and fun way to get to know basic ingredients. There is a joy in making something properly. Treat those seemingly lackluster ingredients like the darling little babies that they are; for even the “dullest” of foods offer nourishment and vibrancy if you pay attention to them.  Take a moment to think about that one extra tiny step you can take to make a bleh-seeming meal better. Don’t merely toss that bag of frozen veggies into your microwave as the instructions suggest, plastic sarcophagus and all.  Transfer them (with a flourish of course) into a glass bowl with a bit of tap water and instead of tossing them all disgruntled into the machine, do it gently, lovingly.  Season them delicately, perhaps even whisk up a quick vinaigrette, chop up some nuts.  In mere minutes you have taken something fairly undesirable and raised it to a level of delight. That end of the bag of rice we discussed?  Do not merely steam it in it’s own starchy water.  Do you have broth or bullion available? Perhaps a squeeze of lemon or a few liberal dashes of vinegar to the cooking liquid or even that strange seasoning blend you received two Christmases ago. *Voila* As the pleasing aromas waft and swirl around you, you look down and notice that you now have a Meal. 

Back in my kitchen I have chopped up the last two ribs of celery, the beautiful yellow carrot and the half a yellow onion. The little ends and peels have made their way into the freezer, destined to become a broth for that end of the bag of rice we’ve discussed.  I peel and dice the potatoes.  I drain and rinse the beans.  My very favorite red pot is heating merrily upon the stove, a welcoming pool of olive oil beckoning the veggies to come and stay a while.  I don’t know about the rest of you, but the sound of chopped vegetables hitting a perfectly heated and oiled pot is one of the most exciting and satisfying sounds to me.  No matter how many times I hear it, it continues to wash over me like a warm breeze on an early autumn night.  I know this is going to be good. 

*****

Baked Potato Soup

INGREDIENTS:

Half an onion, diced

2 ribs celery, sliced

1 large carrot, unpeeled, diced

2 small to medium potatoes, scrubbed and peeled

1 cup dried white beans, soaked at least a few hours and drained/rinsed

2 teaspoons dried rosemary or thyme or parsley or oregano or a mix 

2 quarts of water or veggie or chicken broth

If using water add 2 bullion cubes or one heaping tablespoon ‘better than          bullion”paste, or 2 tablespoons of nutritional yeast.  Otherwise add a generous amount of lemon juice or plain white vinegar at the end of cooking time.

Optional toppings:

Thin sliced scallions or fresh parsley, chives etc.

A dollop of yogurt, sour cream or butter

Deli ham, sliced and dried on a sheet pan at 400 degrees for 3-8 minutes. crumbled. 

INSTRUCTIONS:

-Heat a medium to large pot over medium heat.  Allow to warm through before adding a generous glug of any type of cooking oil.  Swirl to coat the bottom.

-Add diced veg (not potatoes) and kosher salt.  Saute until soft and fragrant. 

-Add potatoes, beans and rosemary.  Salt again.  Stir well until everything is well coated and evenly distributed with rosemary.

-Turn heat to high and add 2 quarts cooking liquid and bullion etc.

***you may not need a full 2 quarts depending on the size of your veggies.  You want enough to cover everything by a few inches of water.  So perhaps a bit more or less.

-Bring to a boil, then simmer, covered until the potatoes and beans are tender. About 20-30 minutes depending on how long your beans soaked prior.

-Taste and adjust seasoning if necessary.

-If you have a stick blender, use it to blend soup until it has thickened nicely but there are still some solid chunks of veg.  Otherwise add about 3 cups of soup to a blender, puree and add back to the pot.

*****

If you have any home-cooking questions whatsoever, Rachel has generously offered her email to anyone who needs a home-cooking consultation or intervention. She can be reached at rblume89@gmail.com.

Think of her as your own personal Samin Nosrat, whose quarantine podcast Home Cooking is a new favorite of mine.

SOME GO-TO RECIPES OF 2020

Grain-free Granola - Meg B.

Hearty Lentil Soup - Claire M.

Armenian Yogurt Soup - Meg A.

“I have always loved the flavor combination of dairy + mint. Upon ordering a creme brulee, I always find I enjoy it the most if it is garnished with mint and I can take little nibbles of the mint with each bite allowing the two perfectly paired flavors to mingle. I think this best explains the magic of this dish. I learned this dish from my mother in law (an American), who learned it from her mother in law (a Western Armenian), along with an entire culture's worth of recipes which were passed down to her after she married an Armenian man. She has in turn passed to me a number of these recipes, including this one which is one of my favorites. These recipes are important because of the tradition and culture and history they carry with them, but tradition for tradition's sake is not why we make them. We make them because they are DAMN GOOD. I should also note it's probably the simplest Armenian dish that exists (Armenian dishes, like Persian dishes, usually require quite a few steps, ingredients, and are highly labor intensive, so this dish is a rarity). Each time I remember it and decide to make it I get excited. The mint + dairy combination in a savory context is made even better by the tartness of the yogurt- it is a craving satisfyer to be sure.”

Apple Spice Cake- Fran B.

A Fran-recommended playlist for whilst you are baking:

The Bulk of It

Taking a break from consuming web content, so no “Collected from the Web” this time, but I have been thinking a lot about ways of buying some bulk items without a Costco card.

Buying bulk, if they’re items you use a lot, is quite worth it financially and waste-wise, in the long run. I have a few of my own suggestions and asked some of you for yours:

COFFEE -

We like supporting our local roasters, but sometimes a take-away bag at $17-20 is too much to make a habit when we go through it in under a week. We found out that a roaster in Chicago we like, Sputnik Roasters, sells a 5lb bag of beans for $50 that ends up lasting us about 6 weeks or more. That’s about $8/wk between the two of us and we’re still supporting a small, cool business.

OLIVE OIL -

Multiple people also echoed this one. It’s pretty easy to find a 2 Liter Olive Oil can. We get ours from the Whole Foods 365 near us, so it’s a non-GMO kind and only $14 and it lasts us almost 2 months sometimes. I keep it in the cupboard and fill an empty olive oil bottle to keep on the stove.

SALT -

Marshall’s can be dangerous if you don’t have a game plan going in, but it’s a good place to look for some “fancier” items, especially on a budget. And they always have bulk portions of Himalayan pink salt. I don’t know why. I am still going through mine from a year ago.

RICE -

“Bought a 10lb bag of Basmati in February and am still enjoying. A non-COVID buy!” - Austin W. (And if 10lb seems too big or you have a tiny kitchen like me, most international markets have varying sizes of varying rices)

POTATOES -

“Store them well and they will last forever” - Rachel B. Always good to have a bunch in your kitchen root basket. And if you’re stumped on w

VANILLA -

“I usually get bulk Mexican vanilla because it’s cheaper and just as good” - Meg A.

SPICES -

“I usually buy all of my spices in bulk from either the local Indian, Asian or Mexican market. They range anywhere from $7-15 for a quart. Which is amazing in comparison to buying an ounce or two for $4-7. Garlic powder, onion powder, cayenne, red pepper flakes, paprika, msg, oregano, basil, marjoram, thyme. Some places already have bulk items packed, otherwise we bring our own jars to fill. It’s 98% likely that they will let you fill your own containers. Just ask right when you walk in the door”. - Katie F.

TEA -

“I buy fair trade tea from Frontier Organic (LA) or tea/coffee shops I like who sell in loose leaf in bulk”. - Meg A.

CHEESE -

“Quality parmesan cheese from Italy, like 1/4 a wheel” - Meg A.

Home Video of the Month:

a “vlog”

List of images (mine):

1) Screenshot of FaceTime with Rachel and My Kitchen, 2020

2)”The Last Thanks” by Wendy Red Star (article linked in photo)

3) “Détente Et Rêve'' by Marcel Rieder (French, 1851-1925) (or, to me, the interior/exterior life of Anna Wyckoff)

-and if you made it this far, there might be some extra treats if you click on those pictures….just saying…-