Document text
Deft writer mulls family-food connection Did you ever meet a stranger and know, immediately and without a doubt, that you liked that person and that you were destined to spend days together, exploring that new-found affinity? If you have, you know that when the spark hits your heart, it's called love at first sight. When it strikes a little lower, it's called sexual chemistry. And when it kindles both at once, well brother, you've got a keeper. The book-lovers among you know it's the same thing with writers. Every once in a while, you'll come across an author whose words seem to fit so well with your world view, you can't imagine that you've never met. Every insight seems to affirm a personal belief, every sentence seems to express it with eloquence, humor and grace. Clearly, the book's a keeper. Well, the latest book you can add to that list is "Pass the Polenta" by Teresa Lust, (Ballantine, $11.95). Lust is a former Northwest girl, a Yakima, Wash., native who now lives and cooks in New Hampshire. Her book is really a small collection of essays and recipes governed by a single theme: We are what we cook. "Food is not merely about calories and minimum daily requirements and metabolic pathways," writes Lust on her book jacket. "At its very heart, food is about people." People are the focus of this slim, 272-page volume. Specifically, the people are folks who've populated Lust's life as she's moved from kitchen to kitchen, first in family homes, then as a professional cook in restaurants from the Pacific Northwest to New England. Family members, friends, odd acquaintances and employers are all lovingly drawn as Lust explains and explores the connection between what you eat and who you are. You learn about Nana, who knew a thing or two about making sauerkraut, and about Lust's almost-aunt Giuseppina, whose Italian stovetop coffeemaker pours brew superior to any shiny American espresso machine. You learn about Ed, the man with the odd mom and an instinct for finding chanterelle mushrooms. You learn about Mary, the maker of marvelous scones. In essays that are both down-to-earth and precisely researched, Lust offers hearty, homely ruminations on subjects that range from the right way to make a pie and the best way to drink fine old wine to the secret to truly tender risotto. "Some cookbooks lead you to think you can make risotto with a stopwatch," Lust writes. "Done in eighteen minutes flat. Remove from the stovetop after twenty-three minutes exactly." The real trick? Patience enough to wait until the rice is "al dente." Lust goes on like that, talking to readers as if you were at her elbow, sipping her wine and sharing her tips for food, friendship and love in the kitchen. Her chatty style is girded, however, with a solid dose of scholarship. Lust is a food historian who has done her homework. When she writes about potato-leek soup, you learn about the earliest accounts of leeks, scrawled by fleeing Israelites. You learn everything there is to know about the potato, once hated, now vaunted in Europe. "It was the fall of the Bastille that clinched the place of the potato in French gastronomy," she writes. "Suddenly it was no longer just the uneducated peasants who went to bed every night starving and miserable. The revolutionaries found that with a little butter, a few herbs and some salt, the potato became not only palatable, but republican." Oh, and you'll notice Lust is funny, too. Lust is the kind of writer other writers read warily, both relishing the work and worrying that it's better than their own. It is. It doesn't take long for a copy of "Pass the Polenta" to become dog-eared and spattered with evidence of recipes shared. Try the recipe for Potato and Leek Soup from her essay "No Ordinary Soup." Perhaps you'll consider it, as I do, a gift from an unmet friend. Potato and Leek Soup 4 leeks, white and light green parts only, thinly sliced 4 russet potatoes, peeled and cut into bite-sized chunks Light chicken broth or water, about 1 quarts 2 to 3 tablespoons butter 1 cup heavy cream Salt and pepper, to taste Fresh parsley, tarragon or chervil, chopped, for garnish Melt the butter in a large soup kettle over low heat and stew the potatoes and leeks a few minutes, until fragrant. Cover them by an inch with light chicken broth or water, add the bay leaf and 2 teaspoons of salt. Bring the soup to a boil, then turn down the heat and let it simmer about 45 minutes, until the potatoes are tender. If you stop right here, you have "soupe a la bonne femme:" check the soup for salt, add a little pepper, swirl in a pat of butter and a handful of freshly chopped chervil or parsley just before serving. Or, puree the soup in a food mill or a blender, return it to the kettle, add the cream and reheat over a low flame. Thin with more water if necessary and garnish with the freshly chopped herbs. Recipe from "Pass the Polenta and Other Writings from the Kitchen," by Teresa Lust. Send cooking questions to JoNel Aleccia, The Mail Tribune, P.O. Box 1108, Medford, OR 97501. Call 776-4465, or send e-mail [email protected] Mail Tribune Copyright � The Mail Tribune 1999, Medford, Oregon USA