A man in the kitchen: choices, choices, choices
Wednesday, 18 January 2012 00:00
These Americans are crazy. A thought I had on more than one occasion during my visit to the country last November. Having spent a sublime week in the Napa Valley and Sonoma taking a look at the Californian wine industry, I headed north east for South Ogden, Utah – which is a short distance north of Salt Lake City, hard up against the Rocky Mountains – to visit with family.
While there, I naturally took responsibility for cooking the evening meal each night, so of course I also had to do the shopping. Now before I go any further, understand that America is the land of the free, the home of the brave, and domicile of the ultimate consumer.
My son-in-law, Adam, opined to me one day on the way home from the grocery store: "If Americans stop shopping the entire economy will grind to a halt." And he would be right. Never before have I seen a society which is more geared toward the acquisition of material goods. Americans are constantly buying stuff, and it's no wonder; wherever you turn there is somewhere to buy something.
Having said that, you'd expect there to be wide choice, particularly when it comes to food. There is, but not in the conventional sense. The range off foodstuffs is limited (in Utah at any rate) largely to the mainstream foodstuffs. There's not much in the line of even vaguely exotic foodstuffs, but within each category, the choice is often staggering.
Take frozen meals, for example. In the Fresh Market close to my family's home, which is much like (and about the size of) your average Pick n Pay or Checkers – one entire aisle, both sides, is devoted to frozen meals. Then take packaged salad leaves. The average choice here in South Africa would be about six to eight options. The Fresh Market has at least thrice that, and in so many other food lines, the range of choices is bewildering, such as cereals, soups, potato crisps, biscuits, bottled water and even cream. Here at home, if you're lucky, you'll get two grades of cream, light and heavy. I came across light, whipping, lo-fat, half-and-half, and heavy cream, all in one store.
But in some instances, the array of choices is handy, compared to here.
Take chillies, for instance. I use them a lot, and really battle to find any kind of variety. Accordingly, the Russian theory of purchasing applies: if you see 'em on the shelf, buy 'em – because if you come back tomorrow, they'll all be gone.
The Fresh Market I frequented in Ogden had a range of at least a dozen different types of chilli, from the mild Anaheim all the way to the fiery Thai, with jalapeno, habanero, sirano, and cayenne among others in between.
And they were all beautifully fresh and crisp, unlike the miserable shrivelled offerings we so often get here in South Africa.
But despite this choice, Americans (it seems) don't cook that much. Oh sure, they cook ready-made foodstuffs, like pumpkin pie which is assembled from a tin of cooked pumpkin, a container of pumpkin spice, and a pre-baked pie crust. You can't really do that and say that you've actually baked a pumpkin pie, now can you? And cheesecake is no better. You can actually buy the prepared cheesecake filling, whereas I'm accustomed to making it myself.
And if you take a look at the array of frozen meals, and the range of prepared "easy to assemble" foods, is it any wonder that Americans don't cook that much from scratch anymore?
One of the most bizarre shopping experiences I had, was when a fellow shopper gazed curiously into my shopping cart in the checkout queue. It was filled with fresh foodstuffs, not a prepared item in sight. Seeing her apparent confusion, I asked if I could help her. "What are you going to do with all that food?" she asked.
"I'm going to cook it," I answered.
"Do you run a restaurant?" she asked. "No, I'm here for a visit with my family. They both work a full day, and I volunteered to cook the evening meal every night while I'm here," I explained.
She gazed at me for a moment, and then with the most wistful expression, accompanied by a heartfelt sigh said, "Your family sure is lucky to have you visiting."
"Don't you cook very much?" I asked, somewhat flabbergasted.
"No, I never seem to find the time," she said, "except for sometimes over the weekend. We eat prepared meals a lot during the week, or we get take out."
So, if you cook most of your meals from scratch, then I urge you to continue doing so. If you don't, there is no time like the present to start.
It's a lot healthier, and it's also a lot cheaper.
And in a world where the stresses and strains of modern life mean that we communicate less and less, even within our immediate family, the evening meal at least – prepared and eaten in the community of the family – will go a long way towards reversing that trend. Happy cooking and bon appetit
Written by Norman McFarlane You are reading A man in the kitchen: choices, choices, choices articles
