Tiny War Stories from the Kitchen

Most every day, I am reminded how nice it might have been to have someone older and wiser looking over my shoulder and telling me some basic dos and don’ts — the culinary equivalent of, “honey, you probably shouldn’t put your finger in the electrical socket.” You get the picture. Today’s reminder was a doozy: I was mushing up an empty bag of flour to toss away and of course a geyser of fine powder comes shooting up from the bottom of the bag into my eyes (and all over my face). Sure glad no one was looking.

I began to think of a host of other pratfalls, based on my lack of experience: Skimming off the layer of scum from a soup stock I was making, right onto my open-toed sandals; Sticking my nose into a mason jar of freshly-ground horseradish to see if it really was as potent as I was hoping (it was); Discovering the paradox of what to do with a well-seasoned iron skillet after roasting habaneros. OK, so this last might not be THAT obvious. So clearly, you don’t wash the skillet with soap and water, because that strips the seasoning, right? So you wipe it down, maybe with a bit of water, right? Yeah, but the habanero oils are still there, ready to jackknife the next unsuspecting dish that gets cooked there. And so on.

I love that book, All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten. But you know what? Somethings just end up coming along much later, unfortunately.