Tag Archive for Moosewood Cookbook

Creative every day: writers write!

January 4, 2010 life, survivorship No comments

I love Twitter.

Aside from giving me the chance to find out interesting things every time I log on, Twitter enables people to contact and talk with actors, muscians – and my favorite, authors.

One of the writers I follow is Crescent Dragonwagon (yes, that’s her real name!) Crescent authored one of the anchor cookbooks on my bookshelves, The Passionate Vegetarian. We talked briefly on Twitter yesterday, and I mentioned that food writing is first writing and cookbooks are first books. I’ve read Passionate Vegetarian cover to cover a couple of times…and Crescent asked me why. I told her that I buy cookbooks to read them, to understand the stories behind the author and her food. I told Crescent that if I just wanted a recipe or list of ingredients without the story that makes them come alive, I’d do a search on Recipeza’ar or Allrecipes.com and call it a day.

But while I use both of those resources, when I want to read, I choose one of my favorite cookbooks.

Why?

Passionate Vegetarian is a cookbook, but it is first a book. And Crescent is a cook who brings magic to her kitchen and her ingredients by first being a compelling writer, by telling a story I don’t want to put down. Those things together make PV an entertaining and captivating read, whether I’m in the kitchen cooking or cuddled up on my couch on a snowy afternoon nursing a cup of coffee. But Crescent isn’t the only cookbook author whose works I read like novels.

My first cookbook was Anna Thomas‘ Vegetarian Epicure, a gift from my Uncle Will. I have read it cover to cover, or sections at a time, just for the joy of reading Thomas’ writing. Molle Katzen’s The Moosewood Cookbook and Enchanted Broccoli Forest, Laurel Robertson’s and Carol Flinders’ Laurel’s Kitchen, Paul Prudhomme‘s The Prudhomme Family Cookbook – all are authors and cookbooks that I have read repeatedly from cover to cover.

What does all of this have to do with cancer, and survivorship?

Writing is what I do. Nine-to-five (well, okay, ten-to-seven) I write technical manuals and software testing plans and scientific reports – but in the dark quiet of 2 a.m., I write recipes, online forum posts, emails, poetry. There’s a badge on the front page of this webside for Creative Every Day 2010 – a loosely formed alliance of writers and artists of all types who have pledged, as I have, to do or experience something creative every day of 2010 … and to share our creative experiences with each other to grow and share and experience each other’s creativity and enhance our own. January’s theme is ‘body’ and I’m translating some of my own body image issues into poetry for my #CED2010 efforts.

I’m a poet. So is Laura Morefield, whose blog is linked in the sidebar. Read Laura’s compelling vignettes about living with cancer, and you’ll understand it from the patient’s point of view in a way no other words can express the feeling.

And I’m a food writer – creating and improvising with food and with recipes to elevate my own small-batch jamming skills. A few years ago I did some food writing for a young low-carb magazine called Carb Health, and a woman looking for a low-carb forum discovered that they’re still archived online. I re-read the articles, and although the information needs a bit of updating, the writing stands the test of time.

Because whether it’s cancer or body image or survivroship or dog training, first a writer must write. Welcome to my world.

Reblog this post [with Zemanta]

Amuse my tastebuds, please!

November 12, 2009 cancer, food, nutrition, survivorship 4 comments
Salem Diner menu

Image by Teckie Kev via Flickr

amuse-bouche [a.myz.buʃ] a single, bite-sized hors d’œuvre. … These, often accompanied by a complementing wine, are served as an excitement of taste buds to both prepare the guest for the meal and to offer a glimpse into the chef’s approach to cooking.

I’m a self-professed foodie – a person who reads my 300+ cookbooks like novels, creates new recipes based on favorite tastes, prepares a dish over and over until I get the taste(s) right, treasures memories like the special lunch I enjoyed at Bolo in NYC, one of Bobby Flay’s first restaurants (now closed.) My tiny kitchen’s cabinets are covered with 25 years of state fair culinary competition ribbons. For me, the amuse-bouche – that single mouthful that sings with taste – is my cooking goal every time I sharpen my chef’s knife.

The first thing the nurses warned me about in chemo teaching is that my tastes would change while on chemo, food and smells might make me nauseaus, and patients were often unable to eat their favorite things because the medicine(s) changed their taste preferences so dramatically. Every chemo is a bit different, but palate-numbing is a common denominator.

While I was on chemo, my tastebuds went on strike. On the day of an infusion, I craved – watermelon. Lemon. Taco Bell. Seriously, Taco Bell. Good Mexican food was wasted on me, but the heavily salted stuff from borderline drive-thru tasted wonderful, complete with fast-food guacamole and pico de gallo. Not fresh, not organic, not seasonal. But I could *taste* it. I’m not proud to admit that a cheap beef taco was often the last real food I could manage before the chemo nausea kicked in. Days 2-14 after infusion, I had the appetite of a finicky toddler. Smells of fresh, raw or cooking food might make me hungry, or make me sick. It could literally go either way. During those days, I did find some solace in my 70s comfort food: Cauliflower Soup from Mollie Katzen’s Moosewood Cookbook, Garlic Broth from Anna Thomas’s Vegetarian Epicure, and homemade pierogies from my friend Kim, or from the ladies auxiliary at the Ukranian Church got me through those days.

When chemo ended, my tastebuds limped across the chemo picket line – and some of them had clearly developed attitude problems. Spicy foods threw them into revolt. Salt levels were hit or miss. Sour tastes, fresh fruit, and creamy vegetable tasted usually tasted good – but not always. Lemon, which I don’t love, always worked during chemo and continued to work when it was over. Salmon, a pre-chemo mainstay, tasted too strong now, but smoked salmon was terrific Pepper became critical in every dish. After the end of each chemo regimen, it took me months to get back the palate sensitivity on which I’d always depended.

I examined some cancer cookbooks during treatment, but all were uniformly disappointing. I know how to make ingredients sing, make them amuse my tastebuds and incite my appetite – but the smells of cooking and the handling of raw foods often made me ill. I used a lot of premade and frozen foods while on chemo, but wondered how other patients handled the utter lack of taste in most of those cancer ‘cookbooks.’

What I would have given for a copy of One Bite at a Time, Rebecca Katz’s amazing cookbook subtitled ‘Nourishing Recipes for Cancer Survivors and Their Friends.’

If you only make one of the 20 soups Katz includes in this cookbook, it will have paid for itself. A beautiful, simple and basic vegetable stock called Magic Mineral Broth (TM) will add magic to any soup, vegetable, rice, pasta or grain where it’s used. Other recipes include Carmelized Red Onion soup; Taxicab Yellow Tomato Soup with Pesto – I could go on, but these are recipes you should discover for yourself. If you’d like a taste, check here for Katz’s online recipe selection. It includes another of my favorites from One Bite at a Time – Flourless Almond Tortes.

Food on chemo can be a challenge for both the patients and caregivers – but the recipes in Katz’s book are real food designed to deliver high taste and high nutrient value. You don’t need to have cancer to need that. Enjoy!

What was your favorite food during chemo? C’mon, admit it. After all – I admitted to Taco Bell cravings…how much worse could your craving be?

Reblog this post [with Zemanta]