An unexpected ode to cooking

Pizzas I made that, very unexpectedly, turned out to be delicious

I have a memory, just over a year ago, of talking to a friend about how much cooking stressed me out. The preparation, the steps, the secret knowledge that cooks seemed to have on when to take things in and out of the heat or what spices to add, and the most anxiety-inducing element of them all: the inevitable judgement somebody else got to pass on my skills once they tried it.

In my defense, I’m surrounded by cooks – and pretty impressive ones at that. Growing up in an observant Jewish home meant getting home from school on Fridays to a flurry of smells and activity in the kitchen as we prepared for the Shabbat meals, usually enjoyed with a dozen of our closest friends.

But it isn’t just that! My most poignant memories of my cousin Yael, apart from being my forever hug buddy and bitching partner, are all the times she’s shown up, trays of food in hand, to a function – good, bad, in between, you name it. When our grandfather died? Yael took care of the buffet. When we had to spend Passover in Paris because my mother was about to give birth to my youngest brother? Yael brought so many kreplach that I still dream about them at night. And when my COVID creativity dryness finally left, and I was suddenly motivated with an urge to cook up a storm? Yael laughed at me when I nearly burnt down my house, then gently walked me through the recipe for making salted caramel spread, explaining where I’d gone wrong.

Everywhere, by the way. I’d gone wrong everywhere.

The fuck up in question

With a precedent like that, it isn’t hard to be daunted by the task ahead. Much like you can’t run before you can’t walk, you (or at least I) shouldn’t be going for a 20-person feast as a first cooking experiment, otherwise you (or at least I) will get dramatically overwhelmed by the task at hand and end up spending an entire day peeling potatoes only for your guests to take over the latke making at your Chanukah parties (thanks Vi, Golda and Daniel!).

I’ve already spoken about how coronavirus impacted my creativity: it made it really bad for a while, then pretty good, though eclectic, for a bit, and now is leading to some interesting peaks and droughts. One element of my newfound eclecticness has been cooking: it seems that, when I can’t produce enough words to get people to read my articles, making food scratches some of my creative itch. It isn’t just about the outcome, by the way, although I’ve surprised myself with how good simple things can be. It’s the confidence building that recipes offer, the ability to start from an onion in a pan and, little bit by little bit, work up to a shakshuka that’ll make Neil say it’s the best thing I’ve ever made – which is not to say there haven’t been fuck ups, risotto that tasted entirely and exclusively like salt or that caramel fiasco that nobody will ever let me live down.

But in the words of Leanne, another one of the great cooks in my life, cooking isn’t just soothingly creative: it’s a way of giving small gifts to people. That certainly resonates with the inveterate gift-giver that I am - this idea that, much like a present you (or at least I) took great care in picking to show someone that you love them, really, that it isn’t just about ticking a present box because it’s their birthday – though my love of picking gifts probably warrants an article of its own – much like that you’ve taken the time and care to make them food you hope they’ll love, and it's so incredibly delightful to see them enjoy it, literally put it inside themselves until there isn't any left on their plate.

Broccoli pasta, a favourite from Leanne's blog

So sure – sometimes, and especially if you’re me, you might end up with a pan so full of burnt caramel that it’ll take you five days to scratch it clean. But if all it takes to make it go right is a call to a caring friend, and if it empowers you to try your hand at more and more things? Take it from me: you might start getting excited about cooking for 20.

The caramel, this time delicious and ready to be spread on tartines!