Friday, August 10, 2007 at 1:01am
What's for dinner?
Column: Interesting Times
I think sometimes that the only time I am sane is when I am cooking, in my kitchen, standing over the sink peeling, washing up. Thoughts come to me unbidden, comforting thoughts, thoughts with continuity and history — the fruits of sanity.
Sometimes I think of feelings evoked when I read a small novel by the daughter of the Norwegian actress Liv Ullmann. The story, set in Norway, is lost to me, but the feelings are as present as the sun hitting the sidewalk outside my kitchen window in Santa Fe. Today I made an onion tart — the half-baked pie shell waiting while the sliced onions simmered in the tablespoon of butter and two tablespoons of olive oil. I whisked two eggs into a cup of cream, dashed in some nutmeg, salt and white pepper, and tucked it in the oven at 375 degrees. I wondered what my Norwegian family on the farm in Folldalwas doing.
I thought, too, of Abraham sitting in the door of his tent in the plains of Mamre and seeing three men approaching. He prepares a calf, gathers milk and butter, and tells Sarah to make some bread. This act of hospitality that opens Chapter 18 of Genesis brings the injunction that Sarah will have a child next year at this same time. Something about conception in simultaneous time occurs when food is prepared and hospitality is offered with no restrictions, no hesitation.
As I sliced the beets, fresh from the Farmer's Market and cooked earlier in the day, I thought of the summer days on a family farm in Minnesota where the women cooked for 50 people at the harvest and the children served the large plates and cleaned away the dishes before going out to play in the haystacks. Mixing the half-cup of sour cream, a dash of yogurt with three tablespoons of fresh horseradish, the smell of the hay came back to me.
I took the wild salmon out of the refrigerator and opened the sealed bag with thoughts of gratitude to Duskin, who had brought 10 pounds of the fish over to me with a machine that fast seals in freezer bags. The abundance and generosity and freezer full of salmon strips brought back the story of Elijah and the widow who had only a handful of meal, a little oil in a cruse and how Elijah said to her: "Fear not; go and do as thou hast said: but make me thereof a little cake first, and bring it unto me, and after make for thee and for thy son. For thus saith the LORD God of Israel, The barrel of meal shall not waste, neither shall the cruse of oil fail, until the day that the LORD sendeth rain upon the earth. And she went and did according to the saying of Elijah: and she, and he, and her house, did eat many days. And the barrel of meal wasted not, neither did the cruse of oil fail, according to the word of the LORD." (1 Kings 17:13-15).
Poaching is only one way to prepare salmon, and, taking just a few minutes to cook in a shallow bath of barely boiling water with some lemon slices and fresh dill, the kitchen stays cooler than if the oven or the grill were on. I had made bread yesterday from the recipe my grandmother Ferne had shown me, and I thought of her as she was, years ago in her second-floor apartment in Evanston, taking my teenage hands and kneading with me until I knew the feel of the yeast, flour, sugar, salt and water just before it was ready to put in a bowl and rise. Ferne passed on some 30 years ago, but each time I make bread she is with me, as she was that day in that kitchen.
Wiping down the counters before I went to shower was a calm and deliberate process, a touch of order in my usual world of fast-moving technology. The sunflowers were arranged on the buffet, the food was on platters and in bowls, the tables set indoors and out, the candles in place. The guests would arrive with the hour, and I was clothed and in my right mind, waiting to offer hospitality with no restrictions, no hesitation.
— — —
Lynne Bundesen is the author of five books on religion and was adjunct professor at the Boston Theological Institute under a Templeton Science and Religion Grant. She is currently the spiritual expert for the physical and spiritual health website of Dr. Andrew Weil. Her book "The Feminine Spirit: Recapturing the Heart of Scripture" was just published. Her email address is {email lynnebundesen@hotmail.com}lynnebundesen@hotmail.com{/email}. © Copyright 2007 Lynne Bundesen.
Sometimes I think of feelings evoked when I read a small novel by the daughter of the Norwegian actress Liv Ullmann. The story, set in Norway, is lost to me, but the feelings are as present as the sun hitting the sidewalk outside my kitchen window in Santa Fe. Today I made an onion tart — the half-baked pie shell waiting while the sliced onions simmered in the tablespoon of butter and two tablespoons of olive oil. I whisked two eggs into a cup of cream, dashed in some nutmeg, salt and white pepper, and tucked it in the oven at 375 degrees. I wondered what my Norwegian family on the farm in Folldalwas doing.
I thought, too, of Abraham sitting in the door of his tent in the plains of Mamre and seeing three men approaching. He prepares a calf, gathers milk and butter, and tells Sarah to make some bread. This act of hospitality that opens Chapter 18 of Genesis brings the injunction that Sarah will have a child next year at this same time. Something about conception in simultaneous time occurs when food is prepared and hospitality is offered with no restrictions, no hesitation.
As I sliced the beets, fresh from the Farmer's Market and cooked earlier in the day, I thought of the summer days on a family farm in Minnesota where the women cooked for 50 people at the harvest and the children served the large plates and cleaned away the dishes before going out to play in the haystacks. Mixing the half-cup of sour cream, a dash of yogurt with three tablespoons of fresh horseradish, the smell of the hay came back to me.
I took the wild salmon out of the refrigerator and opened the sealed bag with thoughts of gratitude to Duskin, who had brought 10 pounds of the fish over to me with a machine that fast seals in freezer bags. The abundance and generosity and freezer full of salmon strips brought back the story of Elijah and the widow who had only a handful of meal, a little oil in a cruse and how Elijah said to her: "Fear not; go and do as thou hast said: but make me thereof a little cake first, and bring it unto me, and after make for thee and for thy son. For thus saith the LORD God of Israel, The barrel of meal shall not waste, neither shall the cruse of oil fail, until the day that the LORD sendeth rain upon the earth. And she went and did according to the saying of Elijah: and she, and he, and her house, did eat many days. And the barrel of meal wasted not, neither did the cruse of oil fail, according to the word of the LORD." (1 Kings 17:13-15).
Poaching is only one way to prepare salmon, and, taking just a few minutes to cook in a shallow bath of barely boiling water with some lemon slices and fresh dill, the kitchen stays cooler than if the oven or the grill were on. I had made bread yesterday from the recipe my grandmother Ferne had shown me, and I thought of her as she was, years ago in her second-floor apartment in Evanston, taking my teenage hands and kneading with me until I knew the feel of the yeast, flour, sugar, salt and water just before it was ready to put in a bowl and rise. Ferne passed on some 30 years ago, but each time I make bread she is with me, as she was that day in that kitchen.
Wiping down the counters before I went to shower was a calm and deliberate process, a touch of order in my usual world of fast-moving technology. The sunflowers were arranged on the buffet, the food was on platters and in bowls, the tables set indoors and out, the candles in place. The guests would arrive with the hour, and I was clothed and in my right mind, waiting to offer hospitality with no restrictions, no hesitation.
— — —
Lynne Bundesen is the author of five books on religion and was adjunct professor at the Boston Theological Institute under a Templeton Science and Religion Grant. She is currently the spiritual expert for the physical and spiritual health website of Dr. Andrew Weil. Her book "The Feminine Spirit: Recapturing the Heart of Scripture" was just published. Her email address is {email lynnebundesen@hotmail.com}lynnebundesen@hotmail.com{/email}. © Copyright 2007 Lynne Bundesen.