Monday, February 11, 2008

towards a new theory of convenience

What A didn't mention about our ill-fated quiche attempt is that our obsessive interest in cooking and our new determination to eat more locally and sustainably means that we have absolutely zero "convenience" foods on hand. A year ago, if you'd opened our cupboards, there would have been far fewer heirloom beans and whole grains; their absence filled by a few microwaveable Indian foods or Annie's mac & cheese cartons. At the very least, we might have had some frozen garden burgers that could fill in for dinner in a pinch.

Now, if you look in our freezer, we've got ten pounds of blueberries, soup stock, green chiles, wonton wrappers, limoncello, a rabbit, a chicken, and a ziploc bag of chicken necks and feet. Yeah, it could make a pretty delicious meal, but not in any sort of reasonable week-night-dinner time frame. While we love cooking from scratch (perhaps to a fault), there can be something relieving about being able to peel off a wrapper and bake for 15 minutes. Most of what we had in our pantry would have probably required an overnight soaking or at the very least, 2-3 hours of slow cooking. There is no falling back on a plate of quick nachos when the black beans will take a day to cook, not a minute to open.

Not that I miss frozen pizzas, but our self-imposed way of cooking means a lot more planning and a lot less free time, right? Only if you accept the premise that "convenience" foods are marketed under. Primarily, quick-cook products depend on the belief that in the balance of time versus enjoyment, the scales will always tip in favor of saving time. While it's true that a lot of from-scratch meals require advanced notice and lots of dedicated attention, many dishes that we're used to consuming pre-prepared only take an extra ten minutes to make by hand.
Those ten minutes translate into such a better flavor that for A and I (as I'm sure you all could guess), it's simple to choose the extra work over the easily bland.

The other issue that plays into this effort vs. pleasure debate is that a lot of people seem convinced that cooking is some old-fashioned drudgery. I can go off on a diatribe about how our society doesn't value the knowledge and intelligence inherent in physical acts, but I'll keep it to this: I believe that many people think that cooking isn't enjoyable because, to them, preparing a meal equates with heating up something that's already been made. There is no ownership over the flavors, no problem-solving, and no skill. Maybe it is just the socialist in me speaking, but I think that most people enjoy applying their knowledge and ideas to projects, feeling like they are doing something essential and good. Making a meal from scratch satisfies a creative need, as well as our tastes.

In truth, it is our own fault that we couldn't figure out a quick alternative to a quiche - we had plenty of ingredients on hand to make simple, satisfying meals, we just weren't seeing them for all of the dried beans we had.

So, with this post, A and I are going to start posting an occasional series of recipes that revisit "convenience." It'll be a way to share dishes that are quick to make, rely on pantry staples, and reinvent foods that we are all used to buying pre-made, but really don't require much more time to make yourself. To get it started, it seems only fitting to start with a dish that seems to be the antithesis of quick: stock. The best stocks always take hours of slow simmering, and often a little bit of roasting before the ingredients go into the pot. But A and I have discovered the beauty of simple Japanese soup bases, and that means a homemade stock in about twenty minutes.
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Dashi Broth
Adapted from A New Way to Cook by Sally Schneider

1 ounce dried kombu kelp
5 cups water
1 ounce dried bonito shavings or furikake (substitute 1 ounce of dried nori for a vegan version)
1/4 - 1/3 cup tamari or mild soy sauce (depending on taste)
2 tablespoons rice vinegar
1 inch-long knob of ginger, peeled and sliced
2 teaspoons sugar

Place the kelp and water in a medium saucepan and slowly bring to a simmer over medium-low heat, about 10-15 minutes. Remove the kelp with tongs or a slotted spoon and discard. Remove the pan from the heat and add the bonito shavings (or nori). Do not stir. When the bonito has sunk to the bottom, after a minute or two, strain the broth through a fine strainer. Press the remaining bonito or nori to extract all the liquid, then discard the solids.

Return the dashi broth to the saucepan. Stir in the tamari, vinegar, ginger and sugar. Bring to a simmer over low heat and keep warm as you add your desired soup ingredients.

The last time we made this soup, it was so quick that we ended up making wonton-like mushroom dumplings and the whole meal still took only an hour! Still, we do understand that not everyone has dumpling-making in their evening plans, so our other favorite use for this stock is to toss in some cooked soba noodles, cubed tofu and bok choy. Just remember to sprinkle some thinly slice scallions on top for their bright crunch.

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

guys, i'm seriously eating frozen pizza (and drinking delicious primativo) while i read this.

(seriousface) i think the main debate is about enjoying the world, sensually. food is such a big part of that, but i think your argument applies other places: music is infinitely more enjoyable if you've put effort into finding/hearing/seeing it, as is searching out a great restaurant, book, beach, etc.

looking forward to the easy-peasy-japanesy recipes.
xo to you both.

Unknown said...

Yeah, all right, woo-hoo!

...Although, to be fair, there's a start-up cost here, in terms of time and effort. Learning to "cook" includes not only how-to-follow-a-recipe, what-things-taste-good-together, etc., but also kitchen management and efficiency. I'm telling you, that last thing is the kicker. Sure, it SHOULD take ten more minutes to throw together some random rice dish over ripping open a box and boiling some crap, but reality dictates that without kitchenpractice, it's going to take a whole lot longer. I suppose that's part of the whole problemsolving satisfyingacreativeneed findingsatisfactioninaccomplishment thing, though.

This is weird. I feel like I'm discussing how to fix societal ills.

What am I doing?

Unknown said...

Oh yeah, I got that Ricki Carroll mozzarella start-up kit, and made cheese! It was great!

I guess now I'm forced to buy the book, since I want to learn how to grow cultures and make cheeses that need to be aged. Maybe I'll become a cheese expert.

Kate said...

For me, the reason I don't often enjoy cooking is because of the time involved. Not that it's a bad thing to spend time cooking, but when I get home on weeknights, the last thing I want to do is be in the kitchen - there are books to read, reviews to complete, writing to do in my world, and I think that's just a matter of personal taste. However about every other weekend I get a bug to cook something (not often anything more than a soup or maybe some cookies if I'm feeling terribly motivated) but I enjoy my weekend cooking because I have plenty of time to do it and don't feel like I'm cheating the activities that I really want to do. Cooking can sometimes be a creative outlet for me, but I've had such variable successes (lime chicken stir-fry, Jeff, if you're reading this) that frequently it's more frustrating than satisfying. And I also don't like cleaning the kitchen afterwards! Suffice to say that I generally find other ways to be creative.

I too am looking forward to easy recipes.