How to Choose to DIY

Creamy Homemade Ricotta from Homemade with Love, out spring 2013

How to Choose to DIY

I’ve had my head in a particular book for a few months now, and it’s given me a good amount of food for thought on the lifestyle of making staples from scratch. (Though the subject of this post is elsewhere, let me take this moment to tell you: you need this book! Happily, it’s available for preorder now.) 

Lucky dog that I am, I am usually swimming in high-quality food writing during all waking hours. Authors and colleagues are shouting the Homemade Gospel from the rooftops: on making ricotta (pictured), nut butters, fruit preserves of all stripes, ketchup, Ro-Tel tomatoes, sodas, veggie burgers, beans, booze, pickles, baked goods, pizza, doggie food, cereal, Cheez crackers, chocolate truffles, and—the list goes on. It’s enough to make your grocery list look inadequate.

As a food enthusiast, Renaissance cook, Little House-loving amateur farm gal, urban gourmet, how do you bring scratch food into rotation? You know the rotation I mean: not the one-offs, the annual projects for gifts or saving the season, but the Wednesday nights, the Monday morning breakfasts, the mid-winter grocery lists. How do you start these scratch habits without becoming overwhelmed?

For me, taste is a big factor: the effort is well worth the payoff. Salad dressings, sauces, most (but not all) breads, jams and marmalades, and granola are made with love with my two hands because I like my results better than those on the shelf. They’re fast, and they’re satisfying.

Outside of our gotta-have-‘em weekly necessities, I prioritize by fun. Cooking should be fun! I make limoncello every year or so because I love the way the house smells after zesting dozens of lemons. I love making cranberry ketchups and Nutella for the sheer novelty of the ultimate dipping companion. Does that mean I make all my beverages, or eschew the whole condiment aisle? Nay, it does not.

If there’s anything is a distressing byproduct of great food writing, it’s a discouraged home cook. I live to make a difference for the home cook! Home cooking is not some kind of yardstick against which we all are judged and found wanting. (Amen?) These food writers with big scratch-cooking ideas: they’re cheering you on.

So do what you can. Do what works for your life, and come back to try more new things another time. They’ll keep. Pile your plate with good whole foods, serve a bakery’s French bread and a good friend’s herbed butter and call it good. Season to taste with hot sauce—you can even use the Rooster brand, because you can always try your hand at a homemade version later. Enjoy. Savor. The best cooks will tell you that they’re constantly evolving, depending what matters then. And when you want to indulge in making mustard, kombucha, strawberry wine, or sourdough baguettes, do it for pure joy, because cooking from the ground up is a pleasure unlike any other pleasure.

-Kristen

Reduction Seduction

                                                             Reduction Seduction

A few years ago, for Valentine’s Day, I attempted to impress my girlfriend with a three course culinary tour de force. Beginning with goat cheese, tapenade, and tomato tartines and concluding with a chocolate, cherry cheesecake, I knew she would be at least impressed. (Prior to this endeavor, my most noteworthy creation was garlic-bacon, which I discovered at age twelve; I would not recommend it.) However, my pièce de résistance was a veal roast stuffed with figs, covered in a balsamic reduction, and sprinkled with parsley. After a day of prepping, cooking, forgetting ingredients, running to the store, and continuing to cook, everything miraculously came out unscathed. The tartines were moist, the cheesecake was fluffy, and the veal was pink. Whew! I expected to be left holding a smoking pan and suggesting pizza.

While I’ve never made veal again, I have tried several recipes with a balsamic reduction—my favorite was a sweetened reduction with vanilla ice cream—which were all a fiasco. Unlike a lot of cooking, which can be improved by improvisation and intuition, the reduction is all about accuracy and timing. If you remove it from heat too soon, the syrup will be bitter and runny, and if you leave it on too long, it’s like glue. (If it’s on far too long, you’ll end up with a balsamic caramelized pan.) My recommendation is 3-5 minutes, depending on the amount. You want it thick enough to retain heat, and remain a liquid, but not so much as to become caramel-like after it’s drizzled. This typically means the amount in the pan is reduced to a little less than half of the original.

~Zac

Image via  here.