When I was in high school my parents insisted I enroll in two classes which I had absolutely no intention of ever using. Because of course at sixteen you know it all. My father said I must take typing, and wow was he right! Before I was even out of high school, journalism (my future college major) was switching from the old (actual) “cut and paste” to computers. I found myself extremely grateful because at least I already knew how to type. My mother said I needed to enroll in home economics, and I did not really even know what that was. Thankfully it did not involve sewing (I still cannot thread a needle); rather it was essentially a cooking class and I wound up really enjoying it. It has been awhile since I have written anything about food, so I figured I would blog about the dish I recently made pictured above. It is a zucchini casserole, supposed to be high in protein and low in carbs. That it is vegetarian makes me even happier. I believe I am a good cook but as you can see from my picture I’m no food stylist. I hope my meals at least look appetizing. However I have had plenty of food that has appeared fancy but tasted awful. Up until this point I realized that I have done very little cooking “from scratch.” I suppose I was confusing that idea with something that was home-made. Going back to that home ec class in high school, our teacher was positively anal about following recipe measurements … down to the very last grain of salt. I have always felt free to substitute to my taste. For instance, I usually add a ton of onions, garlic, and pepper to whatever I’m cooking. However unless I’ve thrown it all in a crock pot and just prayed for the best, I have always followed some sort of structured recipe. So, there I was, in elbows-deep, armed with all the called-for ingredients. Squinting at my iPhone in disbelief, I realized there were no actual quantities. Great chefs may concoct without care, but I realized in that moment I needed something more to go with than just “eggs, cheese, zucchini,” etc. Other than knowing it was “eggs” plural I was lost. Did they mean two or three? Would it wind up more like a quiche if I added four? And how much cheese? All of it? And what exactly WAS all of it?! I understand the size of vegetables vary but they could at least have said something like, “about two cups’ worth.” My little girl was playing sous chef and I just stood there stupified, ineffectually holding my wisk. We had washed our herbs and zucchini and had sliced them. Awakened from my stunned disbelief, I heard my tiny apprentice ask, “What’s next Mama?” “Good question,” I found myself muttering. Looking up at me expectantly, I had her butter a long, rectangular baking dish. I figured if I stacked it too tall in a square one it might wind up mushy. After that I had her put all the thin, halved zucchini slices in one solid layer that coated the bottom; (three zucchinis.) I lightly salted and heavily peppered them after that. Not having a clue as to what I was doing, I plopped two eggs, half an eight ounce container of grated Parmesan Romano, and one pint of heavy cream into a bowl. The recipe called for placing pats of butter over the zucchini and, thinking of my beloved husband’s cholesterol levels, I decided to opt out. Reading somewhere that fresh parsley (which I have never cared for) was beneficial, I decided to shred tiny bits into the casserole (frankly hoping not to taste it.) I was more liberal with the fresh basil but still kept it finely minced as well. Declaring to my little one, “Here goes nothing,” I scattered an entire bag of shredded sharp cheddar cheese on top of the zucchini, making sure it was all covered. Then I dubiously dumped the contents of the mixing bowl on top of that. Holy cow they didn’t even say at what temperature it should be cooked or even for how long! I settled on 350* and placed it uncovered in my pre-heated oven. Forty-five minutes later I pronounced it looked done, so I took it out to cool. Incredibly, my little family loved it and even asked for seconds. The Mexican novelist Laura Esquivel said:
Cooking is one of the strongest ceremonies for life. When recipes are put together, the kitchen is a chemical laboratory involving air, fire, water and the earth. This is what gives value to humans and elevates their spiritual qualities. If you take a frozen box and stick it in the microwave, you become connected to the factory.
I know how important family meals are; I remember well my childhood dinners. I also know they are not always possible. However, I have resolved to create as many culinary ceremonies as I am able — maybe even some from scratch.
Congratulations, Chef! You winged it and won.
Linda thanks for reading! Here’s hoping the next time I actually attempt something from scratch it will turn out!