Thursday, September 28, 2006
How many people appreciate saucy AND homemade?
The painstaking process of sautéing and stewing and stirring is lost on so many. It’s just easier to use what's in front of you at the grocery store. And there’s no humiliation in taking tomato sauce from a jar, of course. But there is a moderate helping of shame in using ready-made minced garlic and there's out and out disdain in grabbing a can o’ mushrooms and chucking them blindly into your end result.
The problem is that each of these items makes things simpler, easier. The flavors make immediate sense and aren’t hard to understand. Like a party-line idea, they require little or no decision and far less depth of understanding than their homemade counterpart. Simplicity, not to be confused with clarity, is also more foolproof. You know you’ll see eye-to-eye, or stem-to-stem in this case, so why bother challenging yourself?
Why not go with what works and you can just pour into a pan, heat and serve? The old stand-by seems like a viable option, so why would you waste your time cultivating a flavor that has never been in or around a vat?
Because the smell of simmering sauce wakes you up in the night. Because the tester spoon burns your lips, but you can still taste the garlic more than the last time. Because, when all’s said and done, you’ve made something unexpected and true. You’ve taken fresh, independent ingredients and blended them together into something you can truly call your own.
Now’s the time to say that the same is true in life. Simple and easy is boring. Stagnation is bad and everyone should challenge themselves. The problem is that everyone doesn’t live a homemade life. In fact, it might just be me and old Sofia Petrillo slaving over our stoves until the flavor peaks and all is right in the world.
Perhaps the one-dimensional folks and flavors just mix better with the masses. Undoubtedly, Joe Average would walk right by fresh-made mushroom-kale marinara to hit the Prego in a heartbeat. Every now and then, they’ll stop and taste the former, but inevitably return to the flavor they know and feel so-so about. At least it instantly makes sense. Who even knows what kale is, anyway?
So what’s the problem? Should we throw complexity into the mainstream? Should we muddy the waters with kale and creminis? Sometimes I think that I should just give in and follow that recipe, but then I remember the true bliss that just creating can be and know I’ll never give in to the norm.
The problem is that each of these items makes things simpler, easier. The flavors make immediate sense and aren’t hard to understand. Like a party-line idea, they require little or no decision and far less depth of understanding than their homemade counterpart. Simplicity, not to be confused with clarity, is also more foolproof. You know you’ll see eye-to-eye, or stem-to-stem in this case, so why bother challenging yourself?
Why not go with what works and you can just pour into a pan, heat and serve? The old stand-by seems like a viable option, so why would you waste your time cultivating a flavor that has never been in or around a vat?
Because the smell of simmering sauce wakes you up in the night. Because the tester spoon burns your lips, but you can still taste the garlic more than the last time. Because, when all’s said and done, you’ve made something unexpected and true. You’ve taken fresh, independent ingredients and blended them together into something you can truly call your own.
Now’s the time to say that the same is true in life. Simple and easy is boring. Stagnation is bad and everyone should challenge themselves. The problem is that everyone doesn’t live a homemade life. In fact, it might just be me and old Sofia Petrillo slaving over our stoves until the flavor peaks and all is right in the world.
Perhaps the one-dimensional folks and flavors just mix better with the masses. Undoubtedly, Joe Average would walk right by fresh-made mushroom-kale marinara to hit the Prego in a heartbeat. Every now and then, they’ll stop and taste the former, but inevitably return to the flavor they know and feel so-so about. At least it instantly makes sense. Who even knows what kale is, anyway?
So what’s the problem? Should we throw complexity into the mainstream? Should we muddy the waters with kale and creminis? Sometimes I think that I should just give in and follow that recipe, but then I remember the true bliss that just creating can be and know I’ll never give in to the norm.
