ingridsf

The bottom line for me, at this particular moment, is that I'm no longer charmed by the idea of feeding 6-8 people, when perhaps four of them are excluding entire classes of food from their diet at any given time. Sugars. Salt (not because of any diagnosed reason.) Nightshades. Grains except for quinoa. Meat except shrimp, salmon and white meat chicken. At one time, I did think it was charming and delightful to express my affection for them by trying to cook meals they would all enjoy as a group. Now, grump that I have become, all I notice is how these wills of multiple minorities are in constant flux. Of course I ask people about their needs and preferences-- how else would I know all of this? My feeling right now is that both the host and guest have an opportunity to share food, a tremendous bond of intimacy when you think about it. There is a difference between a need and a desire -- someone may need to abstain from nuts while another prefers to avoid carbohydrates. BTW, I really don't care if someone leaves a mushroom on their plate (sorry, gifted gourmet!) just as they might leave a hot pepper. It's the ATTITUDE, folks. That one night of change in what you eat is simply unthinkable. I certainly am glad not everyone is as big a grump as I am or in my entertaining slump right now. Maybe I'll get inspired here....

I'm not really sure it's about values. I think at heart it's about taste preferences and where they fit in the hierarchy of social behavior. Until recently, I would have agreed that no one benefits from eating something they simply don't like. Now, I'm frankly tired of negotiating multiple preferences that seem to change from month to month but always seem to have an edge of desperation. As if eating something one doesn't like is going to actually cause harm. Well, Jeffrey Steingarten's essay on eating food he didn't like showed 2 things: Repeated sampling of the food he didn't like decreased the aversion; and often, his aversion to something was based on having had a poorly prepared version of it. When he let his guard down and ate a well-prepared dish, he found he liked it after all. This was certainly true of me and olives and cheese. Thought I hated both until, out of intense hunger on different occasions, began eating both. Turns out I like good olives and good cheese. Ah well, it's all sort of a social dance, not really one "right" move.

Okay, the thing is, it is more and more often (in my experience) unclear as to who has the allergy/physical reaction and who's saying one thing at the time and doing another elsewhere. It's unfortunate because it's the folks who can't digest the bell peppers, or the whatever, who are at risk for getting an eye-roll from me when they don't deserve it. Because I've just had someone swear to me she "can't" eat sugar anymore when I happen to know she carries peanut butter cups in her purse. There are a few things I really don't want to eat: sauteed liver, kidneys, brains, vegetables in cheese sauce. Note the verb: "want." Volitional, pertaining to desire. I'm very, very lucky in that there isn't anything I cannot eat, unless you count something like lobster or nuts that I truly cannot get out of their shells. If I were served one of my dislikeables at a dinner party, I would eat it. I'd probably gag, but that's controllable by breathing. Wouldn't eat much, mind you, but still.

The lovely and lively JAZ wrote a TDG article on something akin to this discussion, http://egullet.com/?pg=ARTICLE-jazguesttactics The Compulsive Cook: Gracious Guests I think the context makes a difference. If we're out to dinner, it's not such a big deal to me if someone picks something out of their dish. I'm a little frustrated though if they don't understand that substituting Jack cheese for bleu will take away from the intended balance of flavors, and possibly make it less than appetizing through no fault of the kitchen's. If it's a dinner party, and I'm the cook, or even if I'm not, it's a lot dicier. I've fed friends something I truly thought they would find delicious and well within their range of fat, etc., only to have them sit there -- eating with gusto, mind you! -- saying they don't usually eat so much grease. There's got to some phrase for people who you KNOW eat bacon but act like they subsist on lettuce leaves and mineral water. Something like, "backseat drivers." Any ideas, folks? Ingrid

It's really hard sometimes when you think you're in an enlightened environment and -- ZING -- somebody says or does something that you would have sworn would never happen there. Like the national disability services org I was considering of joining the board of. Surely this would be an exemplar of progressive attitudes and equal access! Nah, not so much. The all-day retreat didn't have accessible bathrooms. The disturbingly few of us with disabilities who were there were casually told to raise our hands when we needed to go so someone could take us and assist. I didn't know a soul in the room and wasn't expecting to get to know them while I sat on the potty. I asked if we could all follow the same procedure, to at least level the field a bit. Nope. And taking a pass on that board was an easy decision. Being an activist is SUCH a joy. It's hard to find information about our lives with disabilities -- I generally feel like I don't exist demographically. Very little is out there that talks about what it's like for women and girls with disabilities. A wonderful, warm-hearted researcher named Harilyn Rousso has a study, "Strong, Proud Sisters," on the Women's Policy Research website in DC. Here's the link to the publications page: http://www.centerwomenpolicy.org/reportsca...cfm?ProgramID=9 Corbett O'Toole, teacher, disabled, mother of a disabled daughter, will make you feel positively excited about life in general: http://www.centerwomenpolicy.org/leg.cfm?StatementID=5 The on-line magazine The Ragged Edge publishes a whole range of writing on what it's like to live with a disability: http://www.ragged-edge-mag.com/ On the print side, there's Mouth magazine. Uppity, in your face and a real kick to the backside when such kicks really are called for. http://www.mouthmag.org/ If you're not just annoyed/momentarily disheartened but think some legal muscle needs toning, check out the Disability Rights and Education Defense Fund: www.dredf.org. Need for a disability-related class action lawsuit getting you down? Check out Disability Rights Advocates: http://www.dralegal.org/ Hope you don't mind links that aren't about food/cooking. Just that it took me a lot of effort to find these, and never know who might use them. Back to our regularly scheduled program! Ingrid

You said that so well, Susan, about assistance and how hard it is to be visibly different from other people. Of course I don't know the woman you offered help to, but what I noticed was that you offered. You didn't step in and start assisting without getting her permission. Had she been I, you would have gotten a different and more positive response. People don't always respect my personal space and I see-saw back and forth between resigned education and simply being pissed off when a stranger grabs my arm to lead me or pats me on the head. I'm small and fragile-looking but I'm also an adult woman who doesn't want some strange guy grabbing her. I've had almost 40 years of growing into who I really am, which includes having muscular dystrophy. Yet I still balk at asking for help that no one, really, seems to mind giving. I think one of the hardest things for me is that I want to take care of people, too. This is one reason why I like cooking so much. But sometimes it's been hard for my family and men I've been involved with to let me fill that role. My little nephew has shown me that he doesn't have a problem with me taking care of him, which has been totally great. Thanks to all again. Ingrid

No, unless it is too great a burden for you, you should come out of the closet. Limitation is our common fate. It’s all degree. Do not become “invisible.” Ironically, our society often treats those with greater than average limitations with callousness, impatience, or indifference. And yet many not only transcend those limitations in their personal lives but can achieve in their public lives eminence denied to most of us. Witness a scientist such as Hawkings or painters such as DeKooning who made some of his most poetic paintings in the last stages of Alzheimer or Chuck Close whose paintings after his stroke rival and perhaps surpass anything he did earlier. Further, all of us will experience some degree of impairment at some time in our lives either from accident or illness which may be temporary or from the creeping diminutions of time. We need to incorporate this reality into our society's values and practices. You better believe it. The numbers are troubling. Just in California, there are 6 million people with disabilities. As the population ages, access to nutrition, housing, and health care diminishes, and the judicial backlash against the Americans With Disabilities continues, more and more people will, ironically, become disabled. My focus is on women and girls with disabilities. The wretched truth is that the unemployment rate for women with disabilities is 76%, with two-thirds of that group expressing the desire to work. 40% of women with disabilities report no source of income, earned, benefits or public assistance. They are solely reliant on family and friends, which for some permits survival but places them at risk for caregiver abuse and depression. As many of us who are disabled keep saying, changing attitudes is the way to help us. We have to be out and proud of who we are, just like other communities. That's why this course, and the responses are so heartening to me. Good food keeps me happy and given what some of us are up against, anything that sustains us is hugely important. Best, Ingrid

I've been quite overwhelmed by this all today, and can't stop thinking about how we all have been dealing so long with quite serious challenges, not just to health and all, but to good eating. (Not that there's a distinction, of course!) But of course we've all kept stirring, and mixing, and chewing, and in some cases, restrictions seem to have honed our skills and appreciation, despite being a depressing load of responsibility at times. I would NEVER have guessed there were so many of us, however you want to define "us." Makes me want to say, Hey, let's meet up and celebrate eating, and cooking, and learning and we'll call it the Real Slow Food Movement, where everybody's got a place at the table,' to mix in a number of bad puns. Speed is, like, so overrated. I think we need a festival of some kind. I'm going to think about this. Probably over something to eat. Ingrid

Ingridsf- I think that the argument that these are HOLY items when combined with abandon and glee can pretty easily be made. I stand with all who have praised the authors of this class. It is truly inspired and wonderful work. Oh, verily, say ye, Mayhaw Man. Especially when thou: 1. Wait patiently for fruit and pastry to thaw/bake, respectively, before adorning and gobbling. 2. Select the platter as your serving vessel rather than the under-sized "dessert plate." 3. Are generous with thine guests, apportioning one Pepperidge Farms Box of Pastry Shells per Big Hungry Boy/Girl, saying "Get thee behind me, ATKINS," if necessary. And to you, specialteach: Thank you, for the csa tip. Actually, I got The Box a number of years ago, and am thinking of trying a similar but not csa business called planetorganics. It sounds kind of like a minor problem but buying produce this way requires -- quite appropriately -- a bit more effort to clean, trim, and bag up stuff for storage until use. The other issues are coordinating delivery from more than one supplier (I'd still have to use Safeway), and making sure they actually bring delivery up the stairs. Writing these little things up makes me feel like I'm being a princess but it adds up fast, as I'm sure you get. On to Part 2! Best, Ingrid

It really is interesting, how a food I think of as fairly dull can suddenly become utterly fascinating. I had a Potato Epiphany in a bar called The Apache that served food in Hamburg. I was there with my dad back in 1988. We were drinking beer and eating steaks (damn good ones, too) and baked potatoes. This potato was somehow more than a potato, and no, it had nothing to do with the higher alcohol content of the beer. The potato had plenty of butter and a little parsley, very nice but it didn't explain the subtle floral flavor or just that, unlike previous potatoes, it had any noticable flavor at all. It remained a mystery until 1997 when, over dinner at home here in San Francisco with my partner, I tasted the potatoes we had just bought at the farmers' market, and WHOOSH back to The Apache. Organic potatoes, you see. The Apache was slinging organic spuds, that was what it was. Sacred simplicity, I think they call it. And everybody, do check out the EGCI course in progress, Cooking with Disabilities. It's great! Ingrid

I'll save you a seat next to me at the meetings. We're currently on Chapter 7 of "Disabilities for Dummies." It's called "How to Make Friends and Ask Strangers to Grab That Thing on the Top Shelf." Ingrid

Like everyone else, I have to say how wonderful this class is. Being too tired to eat because of my breathing is something I have to watch out for, so a special thanks for the tips on cook-ahead stuff. The best bits for me are the resource links for manual aids and in particular the pizza wheel tip for slicing onions. Geez louise, onions have been the absolute bane of my cooking existence for the past two years. Every single dad-blamed recipe I want to use calls for onions -- alright, not the peach cobbler but everything else. That reminds me -- frozen organic fruit and frozen puff pastry shells are so easy to make desserts with. Add ice cream, chocolate sauce, a little brandy, liqueur, or an unholy mixture of all and dig in. No slicing required. As I've said elsewhere, I've got a disability I've had all my life -- muscular dystrophy -- that is degenerative so I'm usually making gradual adjustments to incremental loss of function, especially in my hands and breathing. On the plus side, what I do have are a butch digestion and a glutton's imagination. ("The Lord giveth, yadayadayada.") I'm glad you're doing this course because I still get bummed out sometimes that I'm too tired to cook the meal I want, or that I have to figure yet another alternative to some basic task, like draining pasta without lifting the pot. The hardest thing for me though is not cooking, per se. It's getting the food, or to be more exact, finding the acceptable level of compromise regarding quality. It's great that foodies insist on fresh, organic and/or locally grown, antibiotic-free stuff. I care about sustainability. But I work full-time, am on two boards, write fiction, my friends are equally busy, and I have limited paratransit with which to travel. Frankly, I don't WANT to use Safeway delivery but it's the easiest and cheapest. It's a source of guilt as well -- shouldn't I be supporting farmer's markets, etc.? And I won't even go into the gastronomic trauma that is Safeway proscuitto. I desperately want to be a control freal about what I buy but cannot be. Okay, last thing. A lot of us eGullet types know that food has a political dimension and I sure believe that disability issues are political issues. Being able to choose, prepare, and enjoy my own food are rights and pleasures I deeply value. Thank you all so much for putting this course together and bringing us closer to one another through it. Can't wait for parts 2 and 3. Ingrid

Don't know how to induce hocasness, Ken, nor how to ward off nocasness. They probably both involve duct tape, as duct tape makes everything else happen. And I'm afraid to start thinking about restaurant staff sizing up the customers, namely, me. Chad, oh my god, LOL at your story. Nothing like having your worlds collide. Vive la Wholly Inappropriate Crushes! Just remember that even suave and sophisticated people can accidently order "Assorted Pies" off the dessert menu. And hey! those 2 glasses of wine were a "mini flight"! Ingrid

Thank you so much, Katie. Our special bond of adoring Hugh Jackman makes your praise all the sweeter. I was glad though that you read the article in that you represent folks I particularly wanted to reach, people who spend their professional lives (and "free time" I expect) creating the environment I wrote about. The good environment, that is. First, I wanted a person in your position to know your efforts are often successful, and why. And to remind you how utterly different the effects of your labor can be from what you are seeing. The staff no-shows, the laundry bill, the missing items from the produce orders -- you see all that stuff, up close in its grimy reality, and it must be hard at times to hold on to the picture of what it's supposed to add up to for the customer. Fortunately in life as in literature, the perfectly executed detail makes the story, or in this case, the happy memory. The owner who stops by the table for a friendly word, the chef who sends out a special taste of something -- I can't stress it strongly enough, these details matter to me far more than height on a plate or the size of the floral arrangement, or whether it's a famous place. (Good wine glasses, though, those I notice.) It's not that the food is anything less than critical. It's just that it takes more than good cooking to make an excellent restaurant. There's a restaurant called Rocco's I believe that demonstrates my point. Perhaps some of you have heard of it? Ingrid

When it comes to parents letting their kids appreciate a wide variety of food, mommiedearest (we're going to have to talk about that name, heh) speaks the truth. This woman allowed me to order duck a l'orange when I was six and we went to a nice restaurant, a true rarity at the time in our family. I ended up leaving a lot of it on the plate, as she no doubt expected would happen, but she let me try something new. That's my mom -- a woman who summed up SF very nicely once when she said, "I like it here, restaurants put such interesting sauces on everything." Happy Mother's Day! Eat something good! PS Mommiedearest is not a restaurant coward. She simply exercises her right to remain silent more frequently than her daughter.

I have to get back on a soapbox here for a moment and point to the "writers" part of the question. Much interesting stuff here about content (food). But in my experience, many folks look for reasons not to write -- don't know enough, no time, their opinions don't matter, pay sucks. One of the biggest: I'll never be one of the greats so why bother? Bosh! 1. Every writer sucks at writing at the beginning and for a long time. 2. Facing the crappy first draft -- not as bad as it sounds. 3. If you keep writing, you will improve. 4. In order to keep writing for a long time, it's highly unlikely you'll write about stuff you're bored by. In other words, passion is a highly efficient self-selection element. 5. If you genuinely care about your writing, you will educate yourself about your subject, or write about something else. 6. Maybe you're not a master stylist but your work may well give a great deal of pleasure. What I want to know from the many wonderful posters here: What made you want to WRITE about food, versus photograph, teach, choreograph interpretive dance about it? What has made you perfect your literary craft in service of food? Ingrid ***EDIT: You know, this is really not about the question as posted. Sorry about that. Never mind, as Emily Litella would say.

Just wanted to let you know how much I'm enjoying the honors of my new office. Here's a big shout-out to my crew, my pheline, and my Mom who emailed me to tell me I had natural talent. Oh Mom! you'll read anything. A special thank you to maggiethecat -- your contest was the wings to my wind and the words beneath my music. Davethecook, you made me believe in myself -- even when I was unbelievable. Thank you all so very, very much.

Since I just said this on another thread: "As for what makes a good writer of any kind, food or anything else: Write. Read. Repeat. For as long as it takes. Writing improves with practice. Doesn’t matter how you get it done or why – some things help, like talent, a private income and emotional support, but don’t limit yourself by falling for imaginary rules about process or life-style. Care about your subject, must share your vision with the world, really need some popcorn money for the movies? Whatever makes you get the writing done is what makes a good writer." Perhaps this is too curt. I'll offer this: Trillin's pieces (and MFKF et al) follow the same literary principles of a good story: A narrative arc that results in some kind of transformation -- with or without a recipe. Ingrid

I got an email from a friend last night who’d read the article and said it made her remember the spectacular meal we’d had at Chez Panisse last fall. (My friend ran the writing circle I was in for 8 years, so any praise I get here for writing ability by rights should be forwarded to her.) (Oh, and as for what makes a good writer of any kind, food or anything else: Write. Read. Repeat. For as long as it takes. Writing improves with practice. Doesn’t matter how you get it done or why – some things help, like talent, a private income and emotional support, but don’t limit yourself by falling for imaginary rules about process or life-style. Care about your subject, must share your vision with the world, really need some popcorn money for the movies? Whatever makes you get the writing done is what makes a good writer.) Back to Chez Panisse, a very close second to La Folie. We were in the downstairs restaurant not the café. I’ve never gone to the café because for one thing, it’s more climbing and climbing is not my thing, and I like the no-choices set up in the restaurant. It’s exciting – I may eat something I wouldn’t have ordinarily – and relaxing. Mind you, I like control as much as anyone. But basically it’s about letting go and knowing The Professionals are going to take care of everything. The reservations process at CP is, uh, not exactly personal, but does have the salutary quality of a brisk walk taken without a quite heavy-enough jacket. It requires a credit card. As a fundraiser, I can understand the value of a uniting a phone call and credit card. They’re polite though and as they get overwhelming demand for tiny supply, I get the need for a stringent process. And the first time I went, we were 30 minutes late (the Bridge, grrr) and they couldn’t have been nicer. We had a pumpkin risotto that evening, with a touch of quince, and teeny scallops with pancetta in a Meyer lemon vinaigrette. This meal was a number of years ago, mind you. I’m digressing hither and yon. The meal last fall reunited me and my friend with the same server we had the year before. (The meal’s a birthday celebration.) Pls. note I had not been back during the elapsed time. We liked him before so it was a pleasure to see him. Salivations ensue as we scan the evening menu (I have to write fast so will only mention the poached chicken with root veg and horseradish cream – essence of bird on a soup plate. Also, I’m eating some roast pork with cabbage and rice from a 3rd St. Chinese/soul food joint that is distracting me with its glorious sultry patois. Writing about food as I eat – well, it’s progress, since I mostly read about food/watch FN while I eat. Did I mention that I weigh 14.4 fluid oz.? Every meal counts.) We ordered the wine paired with the food and I had a New Zealand sauvignon blanc I loved – damn memory can’t retrieve its well-known name. We were well into the meal when our server appears holding a bottle of red, displaying it and apologizing for something I didn’t quite get. Seems a good friend of my dining companion, the Birthday Girl, who is a wine importer and (I think) former CP wine supplier, had brought a bottle by for our dinner that day. Seems the Wine Guygod got wind of our plans (omniscience has its advantages), checked out the evening’s menu and selected a delightful Vouvray. We were stunned, and hugely appreciative. Our server though did explain CP’s mess-up in not bringing it out at the right time. They comped our other wine and apologized all over the place. Call me a push-over but it didn’t bother us much because CP admitted error and tried to put it right. Okay, gotta go. Thanks for reading vol. 2. Ingrid

Trishct and Mags: Thank you! Wish I could figure out a more *creative* way to express gratitude for compliments. A slightly embarrassed smiley face will have to suffice. Love to hear more about the highs and lows -- maybe we can export a few comments from the Rocco thread....! Ingrid

Lord Hurlworthy, writing in, "Book of the Damned: Things That Should be Banned," named Lunch-ables as Satan's Favorite Plaything. Artificial flavorings, corruption of the young, more packaging than foodstuff -- they're right up there with Irwin Mainway's classic toy for tots, "Bag of Glass Shards."

Bacon? (sniff) Did someone say, "bacon"? For what it's worth, I've had the most delicious NM bacon ever when I prepared it by baking on a cookie sheet at 400 degrees. It was cooked perfectly evenly, and for scientic reasons I know not, was noticably meatier, sweeter and not quite as sharply salty. Downside is it takes maybe 20 minutes or more plus pre-heat time, as compared with pan-frying. I'm going to have to research this. Now I'm curious.

Congratulations! -- and a Happy Birthday is in order, is it not?

It's alright, Jon, we're all here. Please come in off the ledge and we'll talk about it. I would LOVE to complain of your lame-itude but where's this thing in the Hot Topics??? PS I'm afraid we're out of time for today but let's pick this up again next time, 'kay?

Oh Tim Olivett, I so admire your good heart and so don't have one of my own. At least not in connection with this program, or more specifically, with the star. I have the customer's point of view and for the owner to act like Rocco does with women customers is incredibly unappealing. Making your guests feel welcome is good; making them feel YOU is not. And I don't buy that Rocco is the one needing sympathy when it's his staff who have had missing paychecks and have been led by managers who don't understand worker's comp, or how to put a floor mat down before accidents happen. Of course it's a team effort. But a team needs a leader. They don't seem to have one.