Originally published between 2015 and 2018, this post has been updated but preserves its original publish date as best as possible as content is migrated from the archives of The Flavored Word.
When asked if there’s one thing in my kitchen I can’t live without, I can’t help but want to answer, “water.” I mean duh. But OK. OK. I’ll play along and as I do, I can’t help but drift off to the strange but wonderful land of French cooking … the one where butter reigns tall and the imagination soars.
A few years ago my mother gave me Julia Child’s Mastering the Art of French Cooking. (Slight sidebar here … I know what you’re thinking—that it was a hint about my cooking skills, or lack thereof—well you are wrong. I am a good cook. Really. I think the gesture was based on the fact that I loved the movie Julie and Julia … at least that’s what I’m going with.)
So, like Julie, I made my way through a good portion of the book— skipping, of course the aspics and a few other areas that wouldn’t go over so well at my dinner table, or most anyone’s in my humble non-French opinion (I mean liver? Who eats that these days anyway?). And alas, I found myself stumped by the ever-mysterious hollandaise family. Page 79. It was sure to be the death of me. I know, I know … restaurants make it look so easy, you’d think the damn sauce came in a can the way they slather it on eggs Benedict, steamed asparagus, etc.
Because making the velvety smooth sauce that literally melts in your mouth isn’t easy. And, well, opening a can would be. My first few attempts at creating the lovely condiment were, well, absolutely horrid. Awful, in fact. My saucepan looked like it was holding some one-time frozen concoction that baby penguins eat (I hear their mothers regurgitate directly into their young offspring’s mouths). Still, I persevered—yes, eventually I conquered the art of emulsifying melted butter with egg yolks and lemon. And my poor family paid heavily for it as I, proud of my newly found culinary skill, suddenly found it necessary to accompany every meal with a topping of hollandaise.
Anyhoo, to answer the question, “Is there one thing in my kitchen I cannot live without?” I say yes. Yes there is. But it’s not just the pale green covered book, it’s the ever-watchful eye of a master and feeling like I can scream at her when things don’t work out, toast her with wine when they do, but even more, gain inspiration to experiment, try new things and watch the magic—aka cooking—happen. Besides, isn’t it the process, the stumbles and falls, the victories and triumphs, where we learn the most?
Bon Appétit!
Cover image is me, holing my favorite cookbook of all time.
DISCLAIMER: I’m a writer and an editor. And I try my best to make sure every post is articulate and free from errors. However, being that I edit my own work—and it’s next to impossible to properly edit your own work—I admit, occasionally there may be an error or two I miss. But doing so doesn’t make me an idiot so don’t be mean. Just smile, pat yourself on the back for finding an error and be glad you’re not the only one who makes mistakes sometimes … xoxox
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