Cookbooks

This past "holiday break" (a misnomer: I was home with both my children, so it was more like "holiday work camp") I decided to do smaller home improvement projects. Organize the closets, and organize the pantry. Anyone who has been to my house knows the love I have for my pantry. It, along with the basement, were the two biggest selling points when we bought our house. Yes, you may have thought it was the spectacular local elementary school or the variety of trash strewn across our neighbor's lawn - but it was the pantry and the basement. Oh, yeah - and the cheap price.

The pantry falls into complete disrepair every 2-3 months - and I'm OK with that. We use it a lot, it's a living space. However, my assortment "recipes I've cut out of the New York Times and shoved above the cookbooks" was becoming a sentient being of it's own and was threatening to leave, so I decided to get down to business. But as I organized and cleaned, instead of basking in the warming glow of satisfaction, I was falling into melancholy.

The Gourmet cookbook Rob and Susie gave me for my birthday years ago. The How to Eat cookbook Guy's mom gave me years ago, where you can find the Lamb and Veggie stew I used to make every winter for Stew Night, inviting all my foodie friends over for a night of steaming bowls of goodness, wine, and conversation. The Dean and Deluca cookbook... who gave me that one? Rob again, I think. The port-marinated salmon I've made for Rob and Susie many times. The chicken pot pie and mac and cheese Scott's been a regular consumer of. In my book of saved recipes, the Asian Wilted Greens Susie whipped up at one party. I cleaned under my bottle of truffle oil and I remembered the time SAE added "just a little more" truffle oil to her dish - and it instantly became inedible. And the Jamie Oliver and River Cafe Cookbooks we all loved to death - Thai Mussles, Roasted Hot Pepper Caprese, Crunchy Asian Salad, Sea Bass and Salsa Verde...

Sigh.

I realized, as I cleaned my pantry, that it was filled with the memories of cooking with friends - and I don't really do that anymore. I cook *for* friends, but my friends who love to cook, really love to explore and teach and create, live in Boston and Seattle and Ireland now. It's been years since I had one of those Saturdays where we created some extravagant and ridiculously difficult meal, just for ourselves.

So I called a few of my peeps and told them I missed cooking with them. And I do. I mean, I have B and U to cook with, but somehow, it's not the same.

So happy 2009, and here is to being closer together someday and cooking up a storm!