Archives For cooking

I Heart Blogs imageThis is a brief aside from the e-publishing series to announce this month’s “Blogs I Love” (see links and feeds in the right column). I am pleased as can be in August to feature three lovely and talented youth women, all of whom I first met when they were young homeschoolers. They continue to teach me more than they will ever know. Read, subscribe, comment, and enjoy!

  • Ariana’s Recipes for Life: Living, Cooking, Discovering: “Thoughts as a senior in college, musings about life in general, and most importantly, regular postings with new or interesting recipes complete with photos and ingredient lists, cooking tips, and stories. NOTE: All recipes are totally SOY FREE unless otherwise mentioned.”
  • The Selfish Dreamer: “I am a college student currently finishing my major in English Literature. I like fashion, plays, frisbee, dance and blogging.”
  • Alimental: “I currently reside in La Jolla, California with my husband Greg and our darling cat, Sid. I have a B.S. in Biological Sciences, and I intend to pursue a career in Nutrition and/or Public Health. Greg is currently working on his Ph.D. in Computer Music at UC-San Diego. I try to eat an unprocessed and completely plant based diet as consistently as possible.”

I recently read a delightful post, Tomato Therapy, by Michelle Johnson, whose Magical things. Beautiful things blog is a treasure of both well-written posts and excellent resources for writers. Michelle writes:

I found myself re-potting my tomatoes the other day, and chuckling as I realized that every time I have gotten a rejection letter, I find myself up to my elbows in dirt. Tomato therapy. For some reason, I need to balance the life-killing rejection letters by nurturing and giving life to my plants. Another interesting correlation perhaps, is that this year marks the first I have had a garden (which is surviving my decidedly NON ‘green-thumb’!), and also the first in which I have taken something I’ve written, and sent it on, in hopes of being considered for publishing.

She goes on to say that cooking is a similar ritual/therapy for her, and that reminded me of another post I want to move from my Everyday Intensity blog to this one:

 

Stirring Up Some Words

“I dedicate this book to every wannabe cook who will dare criticism by getting into the kitchen and stirring up some groceries. ~ ”Maya Angelou’s Hallelujah! The Welcome Table: A Lifetime of Memories with Recipes (Random House, 2004)

Maya Angelou, whose writing accomplishments include children’s books, poetry, essays and autobiography—most notably I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings (1970)—could have just as easily been referring to writing in her dedication above. “Stirring up some groceries” is much like “stirring up some words.” In each case, we delve into the unknown and emerge with something new, something that did not exist just minutes before, something that is a part of us that we give to others, and something that dares, almost invites, criticism.

I stumbled upon Hallelujah! The Welcome Table at just the right time a few years ago. My own writing was a bit stuck. The problem wasn’t writer’s block as much as it was a lack of inspiration, a feeling that when I sat down, intending to write, my experience was more work than play, more job than joy.

Of course, writing—like all creative work—is both work and play, job and joy, but when one overwhelms the other, we risk becoming either too mundane and mechanical on the one side, or too insubstantial and flimsy on the other.

Angelou’s book is a wonderful combination of short essays about the place of food in her life and recipes for everything from Pickled Pig’s Feet to Puffed Pastry, Moroccan Stew to Meringue. One of my favorite sections recounts a foray she took into the kitchen one night when her “writing was going badly,” when, in her words, she couldn’t write her “way out of a brown paper sack”:

“I decided to cook a complicated dish, one that would take my mind off the exacting task of writing. I chose to make chocolate éclairs with whipped cream and custard filling. From the moment I decided to cook, I forgot about writing. Gone was my concern with nouns, pronouns, verbs, and dangling participles.” (pp. 179-80)

She bakes éclair after éclair, serves them to her husband morning, noon, and night, who eats éclairs happily until he can eat no more, and then she gives away the rest, but keeps one, “as proof that cooking helps me to write.” She then returns to her manuscripts, rejuvenated and re-inspired.

When I’m writing well, I also usually cook every day. When I cook less, I write less. The precise reason for this remains a mystery to me, but one difference between writing and cooking is that writing provides little instant gratification, save for the intrinsic pleasure of the writing itself. Cooking, however, gives us immediate “criticism” as well as sustenance as we watch those we love enjoy what we’ve made. Even when a dish does not turn out perfectly, we have a tangible creation to consider, to revise, and to revisit. This process is crucial to writers, but harder to practice when the “product” exists as mere words in an unfinished work.

Of course, cooking is not the magic answer. For other writers, the answer may not be cooking. It might be photography or scrapbooking, gardening or yoga. Karen Schrock, author of “Imaginary Worlds Are Early Sign of Highly Creative Kids,” writes that “most highly creative people are polymaths—they enjoy and excel at a range of challenging activities. For instance,…nearly all Nobel Prize winners in science have at least one other creative activity that they pursue seriously.”

Are you stuck in your writing? The answer may not be to try to force words that won’t come, but instead to find a different way to stir them up.

We’ve all heard the call to think global and act local. Writers can use the same advice, especially when getting started. Dream big. Set your goals high. Imagine a global readership. But begin by seeking local markets.

My first paying writing job was as a food writer. I had an infant son. I was not teaching. I had just decided not to continue in the Ph.D. program I was in so as to be a SAHM. And I was compelled to do something. That something=writing. Somewhere I read advice for freelancers to start small and local rather than only pitch to national markets, so I got in touch with a local food and wellness magazine and asked about a job as a cookbook reviewer. To my delight, the editor said yes. Before long, the position turned into a regular food column where I shared my thoughts on vegetarian cooking and a handful of original recipes each month. The pay was nominal, but the rewards were in six figures.

What could be better? I was doing what I loved to do anyway—read about food and cook and create recipes and write about it all. From those columns came articles for The Milwaukee Journal, Vegetarian Gourmet, Vegetarian Journal, and Veggie Life, as well as a self-published newsletter that I wrote for awhile and even the chance to teach some cooking classes at a local community center. Eventually I built up the publishing history and clips I needed to write about a broader range of topics and approach broader markets.

All because I read the wise advice to pitch local.

Depending on where you live, local markets might be good-sized city newspapers, free magazines distributed by local stores, library newsletters, or online e-zines. Think about what you normally read in a week or a month, and jot down the name and contact info for the managing editor or, if the publication is large enough, submissions editor. If you don’t have much of a publishing history yet, you might even want to write a piece to pitch to them. Have it edited, polished, and ready to go. That’s what I did with my first newspaper article, my first non-column sale!

I no longer write a recipe column—not only are we no longer vegetarians, my interests were expanding, and it was becoming a chore to think of enough new recipes—but every once in awhile when I make a dish, I wish I were still a food writer. Maybe I’ll just share those occasional recipes here.

Confetti Black Beans

Note: I’ve left out exact amounts on purpose. This is a dish that should be easy to adjust for the number of people you are cooking for, the ingredients you have on hand, and your individual preferences for garlic, cumin, onion, etc.

Start a pot of rice cooking.

  1. Coat the bottom of a medium skillet with a thin layer of olive oil. Heat.
  2. Add some chopped onion, diced red bell pepper, and a pinch of salt. Sauté until vegetables soften.
  3. Add some minced garlic (as much as you like—I like a lot!) and thawed frozen corn or fresh corn kernels. Sauté about five minutes more.
  4. Add canned and drained black beans, a teaspoon (more or less) of ground cumin, and a splash of orange juice. Stir, cover, and simmer 5 to 10 minutes, until the rice is done.
  5. Before serving, stir in fresh chopped parsley or cilantro, and add more salt or cumin (or red pepper flakes, if you want heat) to taste.
  6. Serve over hot rice.