Something Different — “Keep It Simple”

PREFACE

If you’ve been to this place before and have spent a wee bit of time, or if a subscriber, you may have happened on something I’ve written mentioning my food background. I spent the majority of my gainfully employed life working in restaurants. All sorts. From small mom and pop owned places where everything was made from scratch, to chains, to independents, to inns, and to white tablecloth exceedingly fine dining.

I graduated with a culinary arts degree from one of the finest [at the time, I have no idea what they’re like now as it was over 30 years ago] culinary schools in America. Trained to be a classically trained chef.

I don’t know how or why many folks get the impressions they do about chefs, food, or cooking — and especially food cooked by a professionally trained chef — but we’re just people. With as many cooking mishaps as successes. And we like things simple. Really. Find a REAL chef and they will tell you they’d rather be considered as a good cook than a chef. And I know one of my favorite things is to make a wonderful sandwich. A lot of chefs I’ve known love a really good sandwich! And soup!

I have had folks over and cooked them dinner, and I’ve gone to some folk’s homes —  and if you knew me you’d know I’m not pretentious at all. Just a regular guy. A simple man. Yes, I enjoy and love good food, but that can be a really good hotdog on a really good bun with the right mustard. Yum, yum!

One of my fondest memories of a meal in the past few years is of being invited to dinner by a family at the church my wife and I have attended for the past five-plus years. It was exactly what a meal ought to be. A good number of people, a family, and invited guests around a big table eating wonderfully prepared homemade food. Delicious food. We had a great conversation. Laughter. Nonstop fun and enjoyment. At the table. Over a wonderful meal.

The mother, one of the finest women I’ve known in my life, a Christian to be emulated, a great mother, wife, friend, and help to countless people during her lifetime — she died on January 2nd after a lengthy battle with cancer — this wonderful woman was nervous about having me over for dinner and her cooking as she knew of my background before inviting my wife and me over to their home to dine.

What a gracious woman and family. Just wonderful. But she was genuinely nervous about cooking for me. And her food, made by her and her two daughters, was an incredible meal. I enjoyed every bite and every minute. There was no need for any nerves. I would have eaten a ketchup sandwich on good bread and been happy — and, yes, I do have a ketchup sandwich on good bread on occasion. The right ketchup in the right amount on the right bread…try it sometime. You might be surprised.

Following along this line of thought, the same has occurred in going to other folks’ homes or having them over to our home.

No need for any nervousness, apologies, or anxiety. Really.

Keep it simple.

I still subscribe to a few food magazines. Collect recipes. Read food related articles. And watch a few REAL cooking programs on the telly. NOT on the Food Network though [they have become a farce, a satire of food in America at this point]…cook or chef programs found elsewhere [Amazon Fire TV for one].

I do watch a few on PBS. DVR some on Saturdays and view later.

One of those is Milk Street. And I subscribe to Milk Street magazine.

In the January/February 2023 issue, Christopher Kimball, the editor of the magazine, a cook, and presenter on his program Milk Street wrote the following…

THE STORY…

Keep It Simple

Editor’s Note — Christopher Kimball

This year for Thanksgiving, I cooked my turkey the Butterball way — at 325ºF. I didn’t brine, salt, baste, lard, bard, deep-fry, stuff, spatchcock, braise, roast high/low or low/high. I have been asked why, since there are so many more interesting methods, and my answer is that I wanted to keep Thanksgiving simple.  I wanted to enjoy family, play Scrabble in the afternoon and enjoy a meal that was stress-free. Last year, I cranked up the Big Green Egg, which worked well enough, but I felt like I was running a relay race between the kitchen and my backyard.

This experience, of course, begs a grander discussion — what exactly are we trying to achieve? We can search for perfection — the best method — an enterprise I have devoted most of my life to. It is a bit like trying to understand what existed before the Big Bang; you have to posit theories and test them out in the kitchen. Does blanching potatoes make better french fries? Does adding baking soda to tomato sauce work better than sugar in reducing acidity?  Does melted butter make a chewier chocolate chip cookie? For someone who is curious and who loves to eat, it’s a good life.

Years ago, I ordered vanilla ice cream with hot fudge sauce and was enjoying every gooey frozen lava bite until the person I was with took a taste and opined that the ice cream was second-rate. That, I thought, was not the point. Perfection was off the table. What was on the table was reliving a childhood pleasure that had more to do with memory and mouthfeel than the provenance of the ice cream itself.

The kitchen offers up every possible experience, from dry, overcooked chicken to a tender, perfect crème anglaise. In his book “Provence 1970,” Luke Barr describes a famous dinner party at La Pitchoune, Julia Child’s house in Provence, attended by James Beard, M.F.K. Fisher, and Richard Olney. Child roasted the chicken, and it turned out undercooked, yet the party continued without a hitch. Over the years I have collected stories of home cooks who made horrendous substitutions — including Comet cleanser for Kraft grated Parmesan; shrimp for chicken; Ex-Lax for chocolate; toothpaste for mint; shredded coconut for noodles; catnip for oregano; tuna can water for fish sauce; baking soda for cornstarch; and Fisherman’s Friend throat lozenges for Fleishmann’s Yeast. And, yet, each of these kitchen missteps turned into happy memories.

Those of us who labor in the world of recipes and restaurants seek a form of perfection, but the home kitchen never judges harshly. Just stepping into the kitchen and turning on the oven is an act of social engagement, a commitment to family values. Before the oil hits the pan, we have demonstrated a cupful of human kindness.

Never let fear of failure hold you back. Remember that even Julia Child undercooked the chicken. Try to bake the perfect chocolate chip cookie, but enjoy the failures along the way. Invite the best cook you know over for dinner and make hotdogs (Any famous chef I know would be forever grateful). Dream about the perfect cheesecake, but cover it with lemon curd if it cracks. If your turkey is dry, make extra gravy. If you char the steak, slice it thin and whip up a quick sauce of Worcestershire and butter (or miso).

It’s OK. As your husband, father, or child; as your neighbor or co-worker, as your grandparent or friend, we appreciate your effort, the warmth of the oven, the glass of wine and the conversation.

Once you step in the kitchen, you already are a cook.

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EPILOGUE

An excellent editorial, and some good thoughts — and if pausing we can take some time to see how this relates to living as a Christian, being a disciple of the Lord Jesus Christ. Keep it simple. Strive continually to know the will of God and grow closer to the Lord, bearing good fruit, and working towards perfection. But know even the greatest of saints, prophets, and even apostles failed at times on their way to perfection.

Keep it simple. Don’t let a failure sidetrack you or dominate your heart and mind.

Study and meditate — think deeply on God’s Word wherein we find God’s will. Pray. Continually. Thankfully, faithfully, asking God for His will to be revealed to you, asking to grow, asking in thankfulness.

Do not get mired in the “recipes” of the world or those who claim to have a better way, a better method.

Keep it simple.

On your daily, nightly walk with the Lord.

Whether in your kitchen, or wherever. And know that your simple love, your simple faith, your simple obedience to the Lord is greatly appreciated and rewarded.

Perfection is wonderful to strive for — but as Christians, we ought to know while in this flesh we cannot be perfect. We’re continuing to be sanctified, after being justified by our faith — and perfection does come, perfection will come. But there are going to be days of undercooked chicken along the way.

Don’t give up. Don’t allow anxiety and fear to overcome you.

Keep it simple. Keep it going.

To the end.

Now, go make yourself a peanut butter and jam sandwich, or something that comforts you without thinking it must be grand or impressive. Put the kettle on and make yourself a cupper, and keep it simple while keeping steadily on…in the ways, the knowledge of the will of God, as a disciple of the Lord Jesus Christ.

Just repenting of sin, stepping into the faith, obeying the Lord, and professing Jesus is Lord and Lord of your life makes you a Christian. This is the beginning of being on the way to the marriage feast that is to come in heaven…and failures will come along the way. Keep it simple. Keep your heart, your mind, and your eyes on the perfection in heaven, in eternity to come, not excusing sin and failures, but not permitting them — and Satan — to beat you up about them either. What is important is not the time you overcooked or undercooked the fish or chicken, nor the one misstep along the way in your Christian walk. But how we finish this race. Fighting the good fight to the end. For the Lord. Because of all He has done and does for us. All He did and does continually for us…

Ken Pullen, A CROOKED PATH, Tuesday, February 7th, 2023