Disappearing Cookbook

I have owned more than a few copies of this book. I can’t quite seem to to keep it on my shelf. Shortly after discovering it, a friend confided that she was terrified to cook, that she didn’t know where to start. She had been a Microwave Monkey for most of her life. I knew I had to surrender the book. It would have been no use to simply tell her to buy one, she wouldn’t have done it. It had to be sitting there on her table, so that she could casually leaf through it some morning and discover the big secret: cooking isn’t as hard as we all try to make it seem.

This book sits with you and chats with you about cooking, about eating what you’re in the mood for, about trusting your gut. The food isn’t fancy, but it’s not gimmicky Comfort Food either. It’s honest and simple.

Many people believe that their first cookbook should be Joy of Cooking or something from the Cooking for Dummies collection. They worry endlessly about how much basil is in a bunch, or exactly how much salt they should be putting in water for pasta. How do you correctly hold a knife? Which is the right pattern for kneading dough: pull then push or push then pull? These are the worries that lead to fear of failure, which will suck the confidence from any sane person wielding a knife.

But Nigel has a voice of reason. He says, wouldn’t it be nice on a cold day, to slice some potatoes, throw them in a baking dish, push in a little garlic and thyme here and there, and drench them in cream. Wait until they get all bubbly and a little golden on top, then take them out and eat them. For dinner if you must.

One of my favorites is the “recipe” for a simple loaf of white bread. If you’ve ever desired to make bread from scratch and have researched recipes for the endeavor, you know how daunting the task can suddenly seem. There are weekends that I will devote to crafting a fine plank of ciabatta, but most of the time I’m looking for a simple crusty something to go with soup. It’s flour, water, yeast, and salt all squished together by hands and fingers, left to rise a few times and that’s it. We call it Ugly Bread around my house, and it doesn’t stick around long.

If you learn just a bit about how real food works together, and you explore the versatility of the flavors and foods you love, you will be a cook. If you learn to trust yourself and your tastes, and you understand failure is a necessary meal, you could be a great cook.