Preheating This Blog

I've been cooking since I was 12 years old. To be clear - experience does not equal talent. It just means I've been doing it a long time. It isn't my job, it's just an ongoing hobby.

I started in my grandfather's kitchen in Jersey City. He was a German immigrant who came to this country when he was 11 years old. He learned English on his own. He forged his way as a fisherman, tug boat captain, and butcher and general store owner - all through hard work and determination. He was stocky, quiet, confident, and loving. And when my sisters and I would go from the New Jersey suburbs to spend a weekend there, we ate the food that he (and my grandma) had been cooking for decades. Roasted cuts of beef, oxtail soup, spaetzle, red cabbage, and many other mostly humble foods. It was simple, delicious food. While turmoil raged in my parent's marriage, these trips were an oasis of comfort. I recall the fabulous smell of food that hit you the moment you walked in the house. There was a sense of peace and anticipation. You knew good things were coming.

Between hours building toy models and playing in the yard, I'd hang out in the kitchen. I'd watch as my grandparents orchestrated simple culinary magic. I'd learn a little, and I'd eat a lot.

That experience pushed my curiosity. As a kid, I ate a wide variety of foods. I liked liver and onions and had it once for my special birthday dinner. I loved duck, bluefish, and I ate lobster whenever I could. But it was my grandparents' oxtail-barley soup that really captured my heart.

Food does that. It reminds you of good times, special events, and great people. Think about it from a historical standpoint. Feasts and festivals are central to human history. Heck - even God used food as a central point in great covenants with his people. Think manna from heaven, Passover, and the Last Supper. Food is central to our special moments in life.

Sure, we all enjoy the occasional lobster dinner or the standing rib roast. However, the food that resonates most is the simple fare, not haute cuisine. Who doesn't appreciate a good fried chicken, a home made loaf of bread, or a great bowl of pasta? In Louisiana, it's a gumbo or a poor boy that makes people smile. A chowder in New England, a low country bowl in Charleston, a fish boil in Wisconsin, or great barbecue in (pick your location and style) Kansas City, Memphis, North Carolina, or Austin. Perhaps your heart is drawn to memories of the covered dish at the baptist church. Maybe you recall pastries at the Greek Orthodox church or hot pastrami at that tremendous NY deli. And don't even get me started on pizza....

In the end, food connects us, makes our great moments greater, and our darker moments just a little brighter.

Yet for many, food is complicated. For some, the thought of cooking ranks right up there with public speaking. For others, cooking defines their very lives. Each plate is validation of their superior tastes and skills. I promise, we'll keep this simple. This is about gathering with friends and family around a table, having a laugh or two, in humble fellowship. We'll focus on hospitality - making others feel relaxed, welcome, and special. We'll focus on simple fare, big on flavor and low on pretense, but maybe uncommon too! We'll mix in a few good libations along the way. It's not about you, the cook. It's about making the guests feel special. And if you're dining alone - it's about making you feel special too.

So tell me - what food memories make you smile?

Now pour yourself a cup of something and let's get started.