Like any good American female I have come up with a list of new years resolutions in which I hope (but am not holding my breath) that I will follow up on. My very first is to learn to cook more things from scratch. This may be from my new obsession with this woman:
Yes that is Julia and Paul Child.
I feel like in a century full of iPhones, wireless internet and microwaves that we have totally ignored the goodness that is made-from-scratch cooking. Besides your italian grandmother, who actually makes fresh pasta anymore? Well the truth is, I want to be that person. My former 16 year old self is totally smacking her forehead right now. Never in my wildest dreams did I expect to turn into my mother, let alone a Julia Child/Martha Stewart junkie. My ears are still ringing from all of those death metal concerts I went to as a teenager. So here I am, waving at 30 and drooling over a set of peacock Fiestaware ramekins. So shoot me.
My first attempt at home cooking ended up being a big batch of brownies, full of butter, sugar and chocolate. Of course, they wouldn't be brownies without raspberry jam and chocolate glaze. I'm starting to wonder if I subconsciously thought ahead today when I wore my jeans which are two sizes too large. My next attempt will most likely be roasted chicken and root vegetables. Gasp, a turnip? In this house? Yes. After that maybe some french onion soup or lasagna with homemade pasta noodles? We'll see.
I have to admit this real quick. I am in no way trying to be unrealistic. My husband has a weakness for Little Ceasars pizza and ranch dressing. Granted, so do I. The problem is, I don't want to forget real food and real eating, place settings with salad forks and butter knives, french pressed coffee and slow churned homemade ice cream. There is nothing on earth like my grandmother's pies. There is nothing on earth like homemade spaghetti sauce. These are things which need to be made: good, as real as it gets, from-scratch food.