The Autumn of Our Content

I woke this morning to the first day of autumn. Not the official first day — technically, it’s been fall for a month now. But the first real first day of autumn, where I could feel it in my bones and soul. It’s one of my favorite feelings.

Silvery Autumn morning through the oaks

We in Southern California are less fortunate than our friends in other parts of the country who enjoy spectacular displays of changing foliage. Our poison oak turns kinda pink, which I guess is nice. And typically, when October arrives and those same friends are raking leaves and building fires, we’re out on the deck in shorts and t-shirts, grilling ribs and drinking beer. They envy us, we envy them.

But not today. Today was different. I awakened to a chill, reluctant to emerge from under my pile of covers. Out the window wisps of gossamer fog weaved through the muscular arms of the scrub oaks, softening them. Our silky rooster crowed plaintively, and I could smell coffee that was not yet even brewing. My favorite season had come. More

A Kitchen Story

I always enjoy hearing stories of what brought people to their passions for food. My grandfather cooked on a train during the Depression. That’s all I know of that story. Although it provides a good prelude to my own.

The author at 13

My journey into food began, I suppose, as so many do: at my mother’s apron. The house always smelled good, and the kitchen was warm and inviting. More

Our 100th Post! Mayonnaisey Memories

This is the 100th post at Skinny Girls & Mayonnaise! Thank you all for coming to the blog, reading my ramblings, using the tips and recipes, and contributing your own thoughts. I hope you’ve enjoyed it as much as I have, and look forward to the next 100.

It’s not that I’m obsessed with mayonnaise or anything. It just represents a lot in my philosophy toward food, and what I wanted to write about in this blog. More

The Skinny Girls Diet

  1. Eat less.
  2. Talk a walk outside (include hills, if possible).
  3. Grow your own food.
  4. Don’t eat apples from New Zealand in July (unless you live in New Zealand).
  5. Give up “fast food” for “slow food”.
  6. Eat with family or friends whenever possible. Talk a lot. Laugh. Linger.
  7. Don’t text while you eat.
  8. Drink a cup of green tea every day.
  9. Get to know the farmers at your farmers market.
  10. Eat more dark green and orange things.
  11. Yoga is good, but it’s not the answer.
  12. “Satisfied” is better than “full”.
  13. Avoid diet beverages. Have a glass of water.
  14. Mayonnaise will not kill you.
  15. Chew slowly and mindfully.
  16. Olive oil, olive oil, olive oil.
  17. Choose heirloom vegetables over genetically modified crops.
  18. If you must eat at Claim Jumper, Cheesecake Factory or Buca di Beppo, one entree will suffice for four people.
  19. Calories are not your enemy. Bad habits are.
  20. Carrots make a great snack.
  21. Quinoa is good, but it’s not the answer.
  22. Drink wine.
  23. Remember that meat comes not from a styrofoam container in the market, but from an animal that was alive not that long ago. Honor that animal. And choose carefully.
  24. Don’t diet. Change.
  25. Try a new recipe at least once a week.
  26. Eat what’s in season.
  27. Take another walk. Stop frequently to smell flowers and look at birds.
  28. Have many dinner parties.
  29. Don’t trust Monsanto or ConAgra.
  30. Read cookbooks just for fun.
  31. You don’t want alcohol and caffeine in the same drink.
  32. Bacon is allowed.
  33. If you’re not hungry, don’t eat.
  34. Don’t eat in front of the TV. Unless it’s football and you’re eating buffalo wings.
  35. Salt is not your enemy. Processed foods are.
  36. Share.
  37. Get a sustainable seafood guide: http://www.montereybayaquarium.org
  38. Shop for food at least three times a week.
  39. Do not get your food at Costco once every two weeks.
  40. Learn to make your own jam. Or olives. Or sausages.
  41. Hug a chef.
  42. When you travel, eat what the locals eat.
  43. Anything — and everything! — in moderation.
  44. Dim sum will lift your spirits.
  45. The best things to put in your mouth come without shrink-wrapped plastic.
  46. Blueberries make a great snack.
  47. Use butter — not margarine, not Country Crock.
  48. Don’t sweat the love handles.
  49. You can’t love food too much. You can only eat too much.
  50. Be thankful every day for what you have. Remember, some people in the world have to eat bugs.

“Better Cooks, Not Just Recipe Followers…”

I was preparing a cooking workshop for a group of women later this week, and got thinking about exactly what it was I was trying to teach them, beyond the type of food they had requested…

A friend of mine recently gave me a cookbook, “Serious Barbecue” by Adam Perry Lang. After perusing various recipes, I turned to the introduction. Lang talked about learning to cook in culinary school and famous French kitchens, and then re-learning from Texas-born ranch hands on a ranch in New Mexico. “My new friends,” he said, “were as passionate as any of the professionals I’d met in French kitchens.” In reflecting on his journey and his reason for writing the cookbook, it was, as he said, to teach people “to be better cooks, not just recipe followers.”

Not trash.

This phrase stood out brilliantly to me. For it is exactly what I’m trying to do with this blog. And with my teaching of other people. I’m trying to do this myself with every meal I prepare — be a better, more mindful cook. When a friend invites us over for a roasted chicken she’s purchased from Costco, and I ask if I can keep the carcass when we’re done, it’s not because I’m weird (despite the startled look on her face); it’s because (as I will explain to her) this roasted chicken is filled with flavor and will make an insanely good stock. And then I leave the bones to her and explain to her how to do it. That is not a recipe, that is cooking.

Next time you’ve get a roasted chicken from Costco or Zankou or wherever — or roast one yourself — when you and your kids are done picking it over, throw the carcass in a big pot with enough water to cover, an onion, a bay leaf and a couple tablespoons of salt, an cook for about an hour. Then strain. You’ll see what I mean — this ain’t Campbells, and you made it with something you were going to throw out. (And you can freeze the stock in plastic baggies in the fridge to make soup whenever the spirit moves you.) This is respecting the animal that gave its life for your meal. This is cooking.

When I was in my 20s teaching English, I decided I didn’t like teaching very much. But now I find I love it. Maybe I just wasn’t teaching the right subject.

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