Interesting post, Caroline. Here is more analysis of the issue: http://observatory.designobserver.com/alexandralange/feature/rural-vacation-urban-questions/38032/
I have to admit, Krista, evolution doesn’t scare me; it makes me feel less alone on the planet; humans are going through the same processes as all other organisms--sentient and insentient, animate and inanimate-- around us. That connection is much of what makes the world beautiful to me.
Yes, Scott. It also makes sense for all of us who cook and eat to see ourselves as data collectors for the common good. Scientific knowledge is produced as an adjunct to everyday life knowledge. Merging the two ways of thinking and data collection mechanisms could be exciting, I think.
Sorry I didn’t see this follow-on anonymous. I am afraid your question goes beyond my experience, because I do not write recipes. However, other Culinate regulars surely can offer advice. Intellectual property is in freefall right now. I don’t know how you can protect your original recipes if you are interested in developing an audience online. If you feel you co-own the recipes with the rest of your family, then my opinion is that you have to respect their wishes. But again that’s just a personal opinion. My understanding has long been that if you share any information on-line, you understand you are freeing it to be copied and distributed infinitely. Others’ opinions?
Thanks, Tara. I still have never cooked squid. I found another egg reference in my on-line travels today. Check out #64: http://www.dinneralovestory.com/100-rules-of-dinner/
I love the phrase “no can chicken noodle.” I was saying it instead of “no can do” yesterday. The Gardeners Gala would be particularly for a group of people working side by side in a community garden. After all, they have to be eyeing up each other’s produce sometimes.
I love the ingredient ID thought and also think it would be great to standardize such cards, with boxes that can be checked of commonly problematic ingredients. This would be a fun DIY project. But, as you point out, having to talk about the food one is proffering can be anxiety-producing for the less confident among us. That’s why the cards are a less intimidating option that would probably be easy to make part of potluck culture.
I am glad to hear people love potluck as much as I do. It’s like a pop-up food museum.
An heirloom Red Delicious sounds intriguing. Devin tells me that soil and weather conditions can also influence the flavor of a variety dramatically. I had some Pink Ladies that I disliked on a trip home a couple of years ago that puzzled me since until then I had considered them foolproof. He’s planning on planting Redfield and Liberty this spring. I think maybe FedCo had Spencers, but I have to admit that I am experiencing nursery catalog vertigo right now.
What an interesting bunch of analyses and observations. I had known yet not really appreciated how dishes preserve relationships and memories; so many of your stories get at that truth. I do want to make sure that we keep sight of the big picture. Judgments of an individual cook’s choice aside, we cannot deny the complex ways in which a cook’s capacity to wow a group with her kitchen skills dove-tails with her social identity in general. Secure or insecure, nice or not-so-nice; skilled, unskilled, or deskilled, we all are constantly being read by others when we present food. If we are to preserve some sense of harmony and kindness--of sisterhood, brotherhood, and family-- we need to explore our divisive impulses.
As I have said before, cooking doesn’t necessarily contribute positively to our existence, but I think it can and should. Culinate is doing wonderful work to promote my ideal cooking world.
Of course, Amanda! Recipe giving emotions and actions depend on context. We learn about our relationships through unusual stresses on them. (It’s kind of like figuring out who you feel comfortable asking for a ride to the airport.) This means that we sometimes cook for people we dislike. Also interesting.
I am now wondering what I would do if someone I disliked asked me for a recipe. I might also demure. Or what if my boss did (can’t imagine that but. . . )?
Cooking and Power, 101.
Writing about flavor can challenge even the most practiced wordsmiths.
The exuberant Israeli chef
How to live like Julia Child
A bread for the upcoming holidays
Writing a cookbook can be a blast