There was a time, oh 15 or 20 years ago, when small shops that smelled of cinnamon abounded. These little shops with names like “The Country Goose,” or “The Village Peddler,” sold all manner of quilts and candles and baskets and other primitive items made of wood and often badly painted - craft not folk art.
I loved them. An urban dweller at the time, I found them fascinating, not so much for the merchandise but for the aroma. I’ve collected quilts and baskets since I was a teenager, and on winter nights I like nothing better than the warm companionship of a lighted candle. But it was always the scent that seduced me.
And I am a fool for the medley of aromas released by cinnamon and apples. My larder is never without a supply of apples, and right now my cupboard boasts no less than three small bottles of cinnamon and probably a dozen cinnamon sticks. A dessert made with apples and cinnamon - from tarts to plain baked apples - are always favorites at my house. And my husband and I love home-made applesauce - now there is something that is comforting to make!
Three years ago in a small yellow kitchen in the Lot Valley, I found deep contentment scrambling together an apple crisp one night while an owl hooted outside in the spring dusk.
Last May, on a stormy Friday night in Paris, I made baked apples in an ovenless kitchen, using a microwave, packets of sugar from the café at Musée d’Orsay and grating my own cinnamon with a small nutmeg grater.
I have since determined this is the best way to get cinnamon. There is a ritual to it, and that enhances the process of obtaining cinnamon. So much more enchanting than sprinkling it from a jar.
There is something about the simplicity of this act that soothes me and makes me content.
There are times when it is quite enough.
What small acts soothe you in the kitchen?
16 comments:
Mimi , I have a coffee grinder (my daughter and her husband covert it! LOL. It would be over 20 years old and SOOOO $$$ these days. You have to grind the wheel by hand and I let my son in law do this when they come over >LOL He loves the fuss! ) . To grind coffee beans and the smell - Ooooh. So delish and somewhat comforting.
Dear Mimi, I feel very soothed when I have gathered the ingredients for a dish, my knives, my boards, and begin. I feel soothed when it goes in the oven or sets to cook, when I remove my apron and sit for a moment with a cup of tea. I feel soothed even more by that moment than actually serving the dish sometimes.
Lady Jicky, you always hit the nail right on the head! The first time I ground coffee beans, I felt very comforted by the process. That was years ago, when my life had a slower pace. The aroma was heavenly - it was like benediction.
Lucy, I agree with you there - perhaps it is the process of ordering items that makes us feel good? Then of course, tea is its own ritual.
Mine isn't about the cooking -- it's about the aftermath. When I've had a group come for a class or a day of cooking together, I like to clean the 8-foot butcher block table with salt and lemon. Then, after it's rinsed and dry, I oil it with mineral oil. That's the part I love -- the oiling -- working oil into each knife mark that was made by someone having fun in my kitchen.
I can see where that would be an important and soothing ritual, Lydia. I will think of you now as I do that with my cutting board. The butcher block my father used is in my mother's kitchen and has been promised to my brother, alas!
Very nice, Mimi. Cinnamon is always soothing and comforting.
My soothing kitchen activity is chopping garlic with my knife and a cutting board. I don't know if it's the repetitive nature of the chopping, or the brilliant scent of that fresh garlic that makes me smile.
Erika, I like that - "brilliant scent." Garlic has a comforting aura to it, perhaps because it is usually consumed in our own kitchen or on a Friday or Saturday night pizza.
What a wonderful post!! I have never grated cinnamon but I love grating nutmeg and recipes that call for it. I will try grating cinnamon as I have lots around. I like getting all the ingredients ready for a recipe and creating and changing the recipe and viewing the finished result, then anxiously awaiting the first taste. Oh Yummy!! Or at least most of the time.
Judy, I've never been a slavish follower of recipes, so I really like what you said about changing the recipe. I wish I had more time for these rituals. But perhaps I would not cherish them as much if I did them all the time?
I used to have a pepper grinder, and it broke a number of years ago. I started using my marble mortar & pestle in it's place, and I've never replaced the grinder. I love hand grinding my peppercorns... and other spices too of course. But the peppercorns especially, every night, for dinner.
I would love a mortar and pestle and thought I might by one in France. Maybe next time...
Mimi - I love cinnamon in all it's forms, and I can practically smell the aroma of it baking with your apples!
And that, to me, is the most soothing thing in the kitchen -- the aroma of food. I love it when I've got something in the oven, the dishwasher is purring quietly, and I've cleaned up the remains. That, to me, is contentment.
Toni, I have to agree with you there! Now if I could find a dishwasher that purred!
I thought of you last night! I watched the new show on FoodTv with Jamie Oliver, and he grated cinnamon on his microplane. I instantly thought of you, and then he took that same microplane and used it to grate a chili-it was brilliant. The seeds and tough skin stayed behind on the microplane while the flavorful meat of the pepper went into his dish, in a finely grated form that distributed beautifully.
We have a modern style restaurant here in town that has fresh cinnamon somehow wafting through the air. It seems odd to me because cinnamon is more of a down home, country, hearth room type smell... not a cold, stark, modern smell.
Erika, youa re so eloquent!
Kristen, I would like to experience that down home aroma in a modern ambiance.
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