I Love/I Hate My Cuisinart

I have been cooking for a lot of people over the last couple of weeks. Four of us on December 23, five on Christmas Eve, nine on Christmas Day, and four on New Years Day. That’s a lot when I’m accustomed to one or two. In preparing these dinners, I used my Cuisinart multiple times. It is a wonderfully helpful machine. I literally couldn’t cook without it. Whirling away--or as my friend Cathleen says “cuising” away (I think it rhymes with wheezing)--I made pomegranate sauce for chicken, blitzed the herbs for the herb kuku, blended butternut squash soup, a spicy tomato sauce for chickpeas, a marinade for fresh crab, and a lovely sauce for the lamb curry. Of course, you can make these items by hand, or with a mortar and pestle, or maybe in a blender, but none of these options works quite as well as the processor.

That said, the Cuisinart has major design flaws. First, the complicated locking mechanism. Early on, someone must have stuck his or her fingers into the spinning blades. Messy and awful for them, I know. But is it really necessary from a safety standpoint to have three components exactly aligned before the C will work? Three. Ridiculous.

Second there is the cleaning issue. There are obscure places which are nearly impossible to wash well: the bottom of the unit which houses the feed tube, the spindle hole underneath the blade, and the inside of the handle. Because it is so hard to clean, I will often organize my cooking so that I only have to rinse it out before moving onto the next task. Maybe dishwashers solve the problem of the hard to reach spots, but I can’t run the dishwasher every time I want a clean processor.

Third, there is the problem with the blade going dull—which it invariably does over time. Did you know that you can sharpen it just as you would any other knife? And you can also buy a new blade from Appliance Sales & Service in San Francisco and get it in the mail. Without replacing the whole unit.

So there you are. I need it. I love it. I wish it were better. Has anyone found a really good one that doesn’t cost a fortune?

My Favorite Kitchen Tools

I use the following kitchen tools all the time whether I’m cooking or baking. In one way or another, I couldn’t cook without them—or at least I couldn’t cook with as much ease and grace as I do. If you are searching for a stocking stuffer or a little something to give to a friend or loved one who cooks, look no further. You can find many of these items at Sur la Table or Bed, Bath, and Beyond, except where noted.

Japanese knives. These are just the best. When I reach in the drawer for a knife, I reach for one of these. They keep their sharpness. In the Bay area, you can find great Japanese knives at The Japanese Woodworker in Alameda, CA or Hida Tool and Hardware in Berkeley.

Microplane grater. Great for grating cheese, ginger, lemon zest. Easy to use. I really like the handle on mine. If you grate a lot, it will grow dull—in which you need to get yourself a new one. You can also use the traditional lemon zester which makes curly zest with more texture.

Pastry cutter. I’ve called for this tool in a number of recipes on this blog, including Apple Crisp, Apple Crumb Pie, Biscuits, and the Breakfast Cake. Probably others as well. Lots easier to clean than the Cuisinart and easier to use than your fingers.

Silicon pastry brush. I use this to paint anything that calls for being painted. Its primary advantage is ease of cleaning. Most pastry brushes have bristles like paint brushes and are the dickens to clean, especially if you’ve been painting with butter or an egg yolk mixture.

Silicon spatula. I love these most when I am trying to get every last drop out of a mixing bowl. They work better than anything else. Period.

Egg beater. Of course you can also use a whip or an electric mixer, but the hand egg beater works really well for whipped cream without the extreme effort of the whip or the noise of the electric version.

Measuring pitcher. This pitcher has the advantage of being able to read the measurement by looking down inside the pitcher itself as opposed to the traditional one which you read from the side. Why didn’t someone think of this sooner?

Potato ricer. I think making really excellent mashed potatoes is both a science and an art. You use the ricer after the potatoes have been properly boiled. The riced potatoes are light and fluffy ready for the warm cream, butter, and salt. No lumps.

Suribachi. This Japanese bowl has a rough surface on the inside and comes with a wooden pestle. The rough surface makes it really easy to make a paste of ginger and garlic, for example. I find it much easier to use than a regular mortar and pestle. You can find them at a store selling Japanese cooking equipment, like Tokyo Fish Market in Berkeley.

Lemon juicer (electric). You may have noticed that I use a lot of lemon/lime/orange juices in my food. I just love the citrusy flavor. This machine makes it so easy to squeeze your juices. Those glass pitcher juicers are hopeless.

Spice/coffee grinder (electric). First off I want to say that I no longer ever use this grinder for coffee. If you want to use yours for both, make sure to clean it out very well between times. There is nothing that grinds up hard spices—like star anise or cinnamon sticks (broken up)—better than this kind of grinder. The one in the photo is over 30 years old but new models abound.

I Love to Cook

I really do love to cook. The Cooking Shop, hanging on my kitchen wall, is always Open at my house. If there is a stretch when I'm traveling or eating out a lot, I am delighted to get back into my kitchen when I return home. Don’t get me wrong, I love eating food I might not otherwise fix for myself. I love having more time during the day to explore or do projects. I love to have a good conversation over a dinner I haven't had to prepare. And I love to travel. But after some excellent restaurant meals or a wonderful trip, I can't wait to get back into the kitchen. Here are some of the reasons:

Let me be honest here: I love being in control--from deciding what I want to eat that evening, to buying the ingredients and preparing the food. If I’m hungry for pasta, I can choose to fix it.

But I also love the creativity involved in cooking. I love dreaming up a menu where the colors, textures and flavors work well with each other. I love imagining what the plate will look like with the food on it. I love choosing the dinner plate that best sets off the food. I love thinking about the best wine to go with the food.

I love eating good food and cooking for myself is the least expensive way to get it. For a long time when I was much younger, I couldn’t afford to go out to dinner very often and there was no choice but to cook. I figured that as long as I had to cook, I might as well have some fun with it and make it interesting. I still value the economy of cooking at home.

I love using up leftovers in imaginative ways, looking for recipes that use the little bits and pieces of fruits and veggies we all have in our fridges.

I love trying new recipes, cuisines, techniques, and exotic ingredients. Like learning to cook with a pottery bram on the top of the stove. Early on in my cooking history, the part of me that loved learning got engaged and found in cooking a new and endlessly fascinating activity.

I love the challenge of cooking: figuring out the timing and the work flow. When do I need to start the preparation in order to get dinner on the table at 7:00? What is the most efficient and easy way to get the task accomplished? What can be made ahead? How can all the dishes come to the table at the same time?

I also like the challenge of dealing with food preferences, allergies, kids’ likes and dislikes, what’s available in my market and in season, the amount of time and money I have to spend, etc. I have to think really hard when someone can’t eat sugar, wheat, dairy products, eggs, or red meat. Coming up with a great dinner is exhilarating when faced with constraints—and there are always some constraints.

Mindful Cooking at FCCB

I love being in the kitchen, quiet and alone, slicing carrots. Cooking as meditation. It knits me up. Being in the present moment—particularly important when the task involves sharp knives.

Years ago I taught a Meditative Cooking class at First Congregational Church of Berkeley. Fourteen of us gathered in the church kitchen and cooked dinner quietly. Only whispered questions about recipes were allowed. A hush would come over the kitchen. It was really quite marvelous.

I like cooking for small dinner parties and sharing good food with friends and family. I especially love the conversations that happen around a dinner table at home. I think home-cooked food nurtures these conversations.

I loved watching my kids grow up to appreciate home-cooked meals and good food. I must say they didn’t always share my definition of “good” and when they were little would end up eating cereal. But they have grown to be both good cooks and adventurous eaters.

I love eating by myself or with Katherine. I really care about what food I put on my plate and in my mouth. I want my dinners to be interesting, beautiful, colorful, and delicious. Sometimes complicated, sometimes simple. Both just fine.

So that's about it for me. What about you?

CHAPTER 1: Appetizers and a Story of How I Started to Cook

Some folks ask me if I have always loved to cook. The answer is a resounding no. As a young girl, I once made a disastrous chocolate cake with my cousins, but other than the occasional banana salad, I was neither interested nor particularly welcome in my mother’s kitchen. I did set the table.

My mother cooked serviceable dinners, pretty much the same conventional fare every week. Well-cooked pork chops, hamburger patties, french fries and green beans from the freezer, a salad, and ice cream. She had some specialties, like Beef Stroganoff, which were reserved for company. And on Sundays after church we would occasionally have a wonderful pot roast with carrots and potatoes or chicken and dumplings, both of which I adored. But mostly it was plain and simple mid-western food. And I took no part in preparing it.

So what happened?

• A move to Berkeley, California in 1966. Newly married to a graduate student at the University of California at Berkeley, I moved from northwestern Ohio to the Bay area just in time for the action. Which for me included food as well as anti-war and anti-establishment. Here I am in my Albany, California kitchen, butterflying shrimp for a Japanese dish I was attempting. Not particularly successful if I remember correctly.

• The Shattuck Avenue Coop at the corner of Shattuck and Cedar, where Andronico’s currently resides, was a place of wonder for this mid-western lass. Full of exotic fruits and vegetables and people, the store offered a dazzling assortment of food products and wines from around the world. I studiously picked up all the free printed recipes and bought the Coop Lowcost Cookbook, to supplement the Better Homes and Gardens Cookbook I had received as a wedding present.

• Our friends Nick and Sarah were passionate and adventurous cooks and eaters. He was a Scot and cooked up “scurlly,” an oatmeal and onion combination, which we washed down with wine or Green Death, so called because of its green can and lethal effect.

• Cookbooks started showing up under the Christmas tree and in birthday boxes. Mastering the Art of French Cooking was first and was quickly followed by Craig Claiborne’s New York Times Cookbook and New York Times Menus Cookbook.

• Gardening and food columns in the Good Times, an alternative East Bay newspaper in the 60s. Jeanie Darlington wrote about gardening in Grow Your Own. Marrakesh Lil, among others, wrote a great food column whose recipes I held onto for years. I lost them about 19 years ago but just recently my former husband found them and sent them to me.

• Occasional dinners out at places in San Francisco and Berkeley, such as The Pot Luck on San Pablo Avenue, opened my eyes to the amazing combinations of flavors and exotic ingredients you could put in your mouth. “Blew my mind” as we would say.

• A chance to grow and eat really fresh produce came about as an indirect result of the People’s Park controversy in 1969. The university turned a field at the corner of Buchanan and Jackson into garden plots and offered them to residents of Albany Village where we were living. We signed up. Oh my god, fresh green beans, basil for pesto, and tomatoes.

• I was cooking all the time. Nearly every day. Hard to imagine now, isn’t it? Learning so much. Gazpacho from Craig. Salmon cheeks and Finnan Haddie from Spengers Fish Store, chuck roasts from the Coop, and fresh crab for special occasions.

I was really lucky to have such a perfect coming together of supportive elements: cookbooks, friends and a husband who liked to cook and eat, a good grocery store, and time. I made a whole bunch of mistakes. As I said to myself about the Japanese dish above, "Oh well, I never claimed to be perfect. And there are lots more dinners ahead of me." It's still the case.

Apricot Thrones

25 pecan halves
2 ounces cream cheese at room temperature
2 ounces blue cheese
25 dried apricots

1. Preheat the oven or toaster oven to 325ºF. Place the pecans on a baking sheet and toast in the oven until golden brown. Watch carefully. Let them cool.
2. Combine the cheeses and stir until evenly mixed. If the mixture doesn’t get smooth, microwave for 10 seconds to soften slightly and stir again.
3. Scoop up small amount of the cheese mixture and place on top of each apricot. Start with a small amount. You can always add more later.
Note: You can use a pastry bag if you are doing a large number of these.
4. Top with a toasted pecan, rounded side up, if you are fussy about it. Transfer the apricots to a serving plate, cover with plastic wrap, and refrigerate.
Note: The recipe can be completed to this point up to 8 hours before serving.
5. Serve at room temperature.

6-10 servings
Adapted from Hugh Carpenter and Teri Sandison’s Fast Appetizers

Carrot Purée with Caraway and Feta

1¾ pound carrots, peeled
4 tablespoons olive oil, plus extra for drizzling
Salt and pepper
1 tablespoon caraway seeds, roughly ground in a mortar, optional
Note: I haven’t used these because the carrots by themselves are so good. Of course, this presumes really tasty carrots.
¼-½ cup feta cheese, crumbled, for garnish
2 tablespoons chiffonade of mint, for garnish, see instructions for basil
5 rounds of pita bread or squares of lahvash

1. Slice the carrots into ¾-inch rounds, toss with half the olive oil and some salt and pepper, and place on a rimmed baking sheet. Cover with foil and roast at 400ºF for about 30 minutes or until they are completely tender. Remove the foil and cook uncovered for about 15 minutes or until they are golden.
2. Cool a little before puréeing in a food processor or mashing by hand. Transfer to a bowl, stir in the optional caraway, the remaining olive oil, and salt and pepper to taste. If the purée is too thick to spread, thin it out with a little water.
3. To serve, put the purée in a shallow bowl, crumble the feta on top, drizzle with a little olive oil, and sprinkle with the mint.
4. Serve with toasted pita bread which you make by cutting each circle into 8 pieces (or the lahvash cut in 3-inch squares), arranging them on a baking sheet and toasting under the broil for 2-3 minutes. Watch carefully. They burn in a flash, especially if guests arrive as they are toasting. For your gluten-free guests, you can have rice or lentil crackers on hand or vegetables for dipping.

6-8 servings as an appetizer
Adapted from Sam and Sam Clark’s Casa Moro

Curried Carrot Dip

1 pound carrots, peeled and cut into ½ -inch pieces
¼ cup sunflower seeds, lightly toasted
2 teaspoons olive oil
½ teaspoon minced garlic
1 teaspoon curry powder
½ teaspoon ground cumin
¼ teaspoon salt or to taste
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice

1. Place the carrots in a pot of salted water and bring it to a boil. Cook for 7 to 10 minutes or until soft. Drain and let cool.
2. Place the sunflower seeds in a blender or food processor and process into crumbs. Add the carrots and all the remaining ingredients and blend until smooth, scraping down the sides of the processor as needed.
3. Taste for salt and adjust the spices and lemon juice. Transfer to a covered container and refrigerate until ready to use.

Serve with crackers, toasted naan (Indian bread) or fresh veggies.

Makes 2 cups
Adapted from Isa Chandra Moskowitz and Terry Hope Romero’s Veganomicon: The Ultimate Vegan Cookbook