Beauty on the Backroads

Stories of grace for life's unexpected turns

cooking

The cookbook I've been waiting my whole life for: Review of The Chopped Cookbook {plus a giveaway}

When my husband and I first started cooking together, I was amazed at his ability to take common, seemingly unrelated pantry ingredients and turn them into a meal. It’s a method he learned growing up in a house where he cooked a few dinners a week. Food Network’s spin on that method is the show Chopped, where contestants open a basket of mystery ingredients and are tasked with making an edible appetizer, main dish or dessert out of them. It’s addicting.

choppedWhich is why when I found out Food Network was offering a Chopped cookbook, I pretty much freaked out. Because there are nights when I look in the pantry and I’m sure I don’t have enough stuff to make something tasty. Now, I have no excuse.

(And even though I received a free copy of the book in exchange for my review, I believe this cookbook is worth every penny you might pay for it. But keep reading because I have a surprise for you!)

The Chopped Cookbook is everything I’ve ever wanted in a cookbook: Tantalizing pictures, creative ideas and doable recipes. And did I mention flexibility? Most cookbooks want you to follow their instructions to a T. This cookbook emphasizes flexibility based on a basic knowledge of how foods work together. It gives you the building blocks and says, “Go, create.”

As of writing this post, I’ve paged through the entire book and tried two recipes from it. The first was Marinated Tilapia Tacos. I lacked some of the ingredients but improvised a bit and still turned out a tasty meal. Even the kids ate it! The second was Quick Skillet Kielbasa Pork and Beans, which again, I lacked some of the ingredients but was able to improvise. And it was good! (Seriously, my husband rarely raves when I experiment and both of these dishes gained his approval.)

The instructions are easy to follow and some recipes look more complicated than others, but there are 188 recipes in this book and I want to try them all.

A few of my favorite features:

  • The pantry list at the beginning. It gives you a foundation on which to build. Many of the recipes assume that you have some basics on hand. But again, the emphasis is on flexibility. No points lost if you don’t buy everything on the list.
  • The theme. “Use what you’ve got to cook something great.” It’s a confidence builder and ought to be a theme for life in general.
  • The variety. Scattered throughout the book are “go-to guides” for pan sauces, salad dressings and grains. This is where the creativity and versatility come in.

It’s been a long time since I was this excited about cooking.

And I’m even more excited because due to a processing error, I received an extra copy of this cookbook and I want to share it with you!

To enter to win, leave a comment answering ONE of these questions (and leave your e-mail address, if you don’t mind so I know how to notify you if you win):

What’s your one must-have in-stock pantry item?

What one ingredient would you hate to see in your Chopped basket?

What one ingredient would you love to see in your Chopped basket?

I’m going to leave the contest open till Sunday, July 27, when I’ll pick a winner. (Because of shipping costs, I have to limit winners to continental U.S. only.)

Happy cooking!.

What cooking teaches me about writing

I never thought I’d like to cook. I was forced to learn and experiment when I lived on my own after college, and while I’ve always liked to bake, cooking has taken a little longer to enjoy. But I love it now. And I have my husband to thank. His love of cooking was infectious in our early days of dating and marriage. Cooking together was something we looked forward to. Those days are few and far between now but he has taught me so much.

While baking cookies and putting together a beef stew last week, I realized that cooking and writing–both creative endeavors–have some things in common. And what I’ve learned about cooking relates to my writing. Here’s what I discovered that cooking can teach me about writing:

Recipes are a good place to start. Follow the lead of someone who’s done this before. Then improvise. Add your own style. I used to fear deviating from the recipe. I would follow it to the letter, afraid that if I added anything, I would ruin it. When I’ve had to improvise because we didn’t have the ingredients necessary, it’s worked out just fine. In writing, the same goes. There are patterns that work. Devices that others have used that are helpful to learn and follow. That doesn’t mean all my writing is going to sound like someone else’s work, but it’s a good place to start.

Similarly, I need to learn the basics. Knowing the difference between a tablespoon and a teaspoon is essential. Early in our marriage, I misread a recipe that called for a teaspoon of salt. I added a tablespoon. Dish, ruined. If you don’t know the difference between cumin and cinnamon, you’re probably in trouble. Once you know what works and what doesn’t, then you can start experimenting with your own ingredient combinations. In writing, I need to know how to write sentences. Long ones and short ones. How to craft paragraphs and dialogue and chapters. When I’ve learned those things, then I can try something new. I used to think the idea of an outline was too inhibiting for creativity. Now, in the midst of my first novel, I’m wishing I’d done some more pre-work. And I bristle when told to read books about style and story structure, but I know they would help.

It’s not all gourmet. I enjoy cooking for my family. But last week, I was craving boxed mac and cheese. I was burnt out from housework and snow days and my body was tired, so that’s what we ate for dinner. Nothing fancy. Not terribly good for us. But it worked for that night. I’m not going to crank out my best writing every time I sit down to write. Maybe not even every fourth time I sit down to write. It’s going to take practice. And time. And I might not ever be a “gourmet” writer. But not everyone wants gourmet all the time. Maybe my mac-and-cheese-in-a-box writing will be just the food someone needs that day.

Trust my gut. While making  the beef stew, a dish I’ve made several times with my husband but never in this house, with this stove, I hit a snag. The first round of “browning” the meat was more like “blacking” the meat. I had the burner turned up too high. I could have pressed on, convinced that I was doing it right, or I could trust my instincts and start over. That’s what I did. I dumped the oil, rinsed out the pan and melted another scoop of shortening at a lower temperature. I don’t know what my writing instincts are right now, but I know if I do it long enough, I’ll be able to trust my gut more and more.

It’s not about me. (Or you.) Ultimately, when I’m cooking, I’m not cooking for myself. And I’m infinitely more satisfied when I share the food I’ve made with other people. While I do write partly for me (because if I didn’t I think my head might literally explode), the end goal is to have other people read my words. So, I’m willing to do what it takes for that to happen. If I have to alter my dream or work a little harder or spend a little more, then I must.

I’ve been cooking for my family for almost seven years now, and I’m still no expert, but I’m getting better and finding my groove. I’ve been writing a lot longer than that, but I’m still a novice in a lot of ways. Whether cooking or writing, I’ve got a lot to learn, but I’m finding joy in the practice.