On a food blog, you never see the mistakes. You see the masterpieces, or at least the moderate successes, but you definitely
do not see the recipes that end up in the trash, or the compost bin, or the toilet, after being ejected forcefully.
I receive emails from readers who profess that they could never cook like I do, they don't know how I ended up with so much knowledge, they don't understand why my kids eat real food, and other such flatteries. I'm here to set the record straight. I cook like this because there is a long line of failures leading up to each success. I have this knowledge because of trial and error . . . and error and error and error and error and error.
Case in point.
I made this dish for lunch. It's long beans and cucumber in a sesame-chili dressing over black quinoa. That might not sound too bad, except that the beans had gone over a bit, even before I overcooked them. Plus, the dressing was not suited for quinoa. And the textural combination of quinoa, beans and cucumber was just . . . weird.
My son would not touch this dish, and I can't blame him. I don't think he ate a single bean, which is saying a lot since green beans are one of his favorite foods. My daughter had a few bites - she's really a trooper if she knows there's a cake in the oven. I picked off the beans and cucumber and tried to eat the quinoa separately, but I haven't liked quinoa for a while. I went through a period last year of eating it almost every day, but after the price went up, I stopped buying it. I bought this quinoa just because I was intrigued by the intense color. But I've lost my taste for it, if only temporarily.
I make a lot of mistakes. I know my limitations. You don't see a lot of baked goods on this blog, do you? Part of that is because I don't think they're very healthy, even with modification. But mostly, it's just that I am not a baker. Baking is a science, not an art, so I struggle with it. You also don't see a lot of multi-dish meals. That's because I'm not very good at juggling a lot of different preparations.
On this blog, you see a fraction of the meals my family eats. Our daily diet is pretty mundane. Our kids eat porridge for breakfast almost every day. Sometimes we make pancakes. Occasionally we get really wild and make something with tempeh. For lunch, we eat a lot of wraps, or soups, or burritos, or sandwiches, or salads. One of my favorite quick snacks is pretty unhealthy and also really lacking in artistry. I microwave a tortilla, sprinkle it with nutritional yeast and salt, and dip it in salsa. That's something you won't ever see on this blog.
I make something new and different for dinner almost every day, and that's where most of these recipes come from.
That's where we get our variety. Dinner is where I really get to play, experiment, be artistic, and also take decent photographs. But I make
so many mistakes, Dear Reader. You just don't see them.
As a blogger and all-around food enthusiast, I do feel a certain pressure to perform. I feel that pressure even more as a "niche" food writer - my food is supposed to be vegan,
and healthy,
and easy to feed to children,
and quick
and easy to make,
and acceptable to omnivores
and people who think they don't like real food. Most of the time, I think I do my job pretty well. But sometimes I make a dish like this one and I just laugh to think of those emails from kind people who haven't thought outside the box of this little blog to all of the dishes I make that don't get photographed, or typed up, or shared with
teh intrawebs - and it's a good thing, too!
Dear Reader, don't be afraid to be playful in the kitchen. Screw up freely. Experiment. Consider the three foods you would want on a desert island and explore those ingredients. (In case you're curious, my three foods are garlic, butternut squash, and brown jasmine rice. Don't ask me how I could use these foods on a desert island.)
I check out cookbooks compulsively. I've never bought one, because the library has everything I'd ever want. I always have two or three cookbooks in my house. I don't limit myself to vegan cookbooks or healthy cookbooks. I might check out books about steak, raw food, Spanish cuisine, potatoes or bulk cooking. I always find something inspiring. Spending a lot of time with cookbooks is one thing that makes me an adventurous cook.
When I've worked with hesitant cooks, I've noticed that they have an intense fear of failure. They're afraid to experiment because they have to feed other (often explicitly picky) people, or they're on a strict budget and they can't afford to waste ingredients. There's also a misconception that they need to prepare many different dishes to have a "complete" meal, or that their meals need to be complex and beautiful, both of which add unnecessary stress.
A dish doesn't have to be beautiful or complex to taste good. My meals were yummy long before I learned how to plate them attractively. (I'm still not very good at that, actually.) I've also recreated many meals from failed recipes. That quinoa, for example, will be used in wraps for lunch tomorrow, or maybe as part of a salad, and the beans and cucumber will be eaten cold, sprinkled with sesame seeds and cilantro.
If a dish fails, it's peanut butter sandwiches that night! Steam up some broccoli and you've got a decent meal. Don't be afraid to fail. It's essential. Just like photography, the only way you'll become a confident, experienced cook is by
doing it.
I receive emails from readers who profess that they could never cook like I do, they don't know how I ended up with so much knowledge, they don't understand why my kids eat real food, and other such flatteries. I'm here to set the record straight. I cook like this because there is a long line of failures leading up to each success. I have this knowledge because of trial and error . . . and error and error and error and error and error.
Case in point.
I made this dish for lunch. It's long beans and cucumber in a sesame-chili dressing over black quinoa. That might not sound too bad, except that the beans had gone over a bit, even before I overcooked them. Plus, the dressing was not suited for quinoa. And the textural combination of quinoa, beans and cucumber was just . . . weird.
My son would not touch this dish, and I can't blame him. I don't think he ate a single bean, which is saying a lot since green beans are one of his favorite foods. My daughter had a few bites - she's really a trooper if she knows there's a cake in the oven. I picked off the beans and cucumber and tried to eat the quinoa separately, but I haven't liked quinoa for a while. I went through a period last year of eating it almost every day, but after the price went up, I stopped buying it. I bought this quinoa just because I was intrigued by the intense color. But I've lost my taste for it, if only temporarily.
I make a lot of mistakes. I know my limitations. You don't see a lot of baked goods on this blog, do you? Part of that is because I don't think they're very healthy, even with modification. But mostly, it's just that I am not a baker. Baking is a science, not an art, so I struggle with it. You also don't see a lot of multi-dish meals. That's because I'm not very good at juggling a lot of different preparations.
On this blog, you see a fraction of the meals my family eats. Our daily diet is pretty mundane. Our kids eat porridge for breakfast almost every day. Sometimes we make pancakes. Occasionally we get really wild and make something with tempeh. For lunch, we eat a lot of wraps, or soups, or burritos, or sandwiches, or salads. One of my favorite quick snacks is pretty unhealthy and also really lacking in artistry. I microwave a tortilla, sprinkle it with nutritional yeast and salt, and dip it in salsa. That's something you won't ever see on this blog.
I make something new and different for dinner almost every day, and that's where most of these recipes come from. That's where we get our variety. Dinner is where I really get to play, experiment, be artistic, and also take decent photographs. But I make so many mistakes, Dear Reader. You just don't see them.
As a blogger and all-around food enthusiast, I do feel a certain pressure to perform. I feel that pressure even more as a "niche" food writer - my food is supposed to be vegan, and healthy, and easy to feed to children, and quick and easy to make, and acceptable to omnivores and people who think they don't like real food. Most of the time, I think I do my job pretty well. But sometimes I make a dish like this one and I just laugh to think of those emails from kind people who haven't thought outside the box of this little blog to all of the dishes I make that don't get photographed, or typed up, or shared with teh intrawebs - and it's a good thing, too!
Dear Reader, don't be afraid to be playful in the kitchen. Screw up freely. Experiment. Consider the three foods you would want on a desert island and explore those ingredients. (In case you're curious, my three foods are garlic, butternut squash, and brown jasmine rice. Don't ask me how I could use these foods on a desert island.)
I check out cookbooks compulsively. I've never bought one, because the library has everything I'd ever want. I always have two or three cookbooks in my house. I don't limit myself to vegan cookbooks or healthy cookbooks. I might check out books about steak, raw food, Spanish cuisine, potatoes or bulk cooking. I always find something inspiring. Spending a lot of time with cookbooks is one thing that makes me an adventurous cook.
When I've worked with hesitant cooks, I've noticed that they have an intense fear of failure. They're afraid to experiment because they have to feed other (often explicitly picky) people, or they're on a strict budget and they can't afford to waste ingredients. There's also a misconception that they need to prepare many different dishes to have a "complete" meal, or that their meals need to be complex and beautiful, both of which add unnecessary stress.
A dish doesn't have to be beautiful or complex to taste good. My meals were yummy long before I learned how to plate them attractively. (I'm still not very good at that, actually.) I've also recreated many meals from failed recipes. That quinoa, for example, will be used in wraps for lunch tomorrow, or maybe as part of a salad, and the beans and cucumber will be eaten cold, sprinkled with sesame seeds and cilantro.
If a dish fails, it's peanut butter sandwiches that night! Steam up some broccoli and you've got a decent meal. Don't be afraid to fail. It's essential. Just like photography, the only way you'll become a confident, experienced cook is by doing it.