If you’d like a copy of The Comfort of Food Cookbook, please fill out a book club request here.
When I was a girl, it was family lore that my Aunt Irene, when she cooked something awful, yelled: “It’s a loser” to her husband (Uncle Bobby) as he walked in the house. From that same side of the family, my Aunt Merle would get so frustrated when she’d burnt something beyond help that she’d throw out the pot rather than wash it.
I’ve been known to come out with more than a few losers, and, once (okay, maybe twice or thrice, but don’t tell my husband) buried a burnt casserole dish deep in the garbage. On the other hand, (usually with a little help from my friends) I’ve made a few dishes that held an opium-like addiction.
My first cooking experiment was throwing a raw chicken into a pot of cold water and then turning on the gas. I was seven. (More on this in my chicken soup recipe.) Thus was born a loose attitude towards cooking that continues to this day. Sometimes my experiments worked. Sometimes they imitated Aunt Irene’s losers.
I promise the recipes included here are from the winner side of the ledger.
These recipes are from my friends and my family—or they’re original or adapted from almost-perfect ones I found. Thus, the instructions hold the time, place, and flavor of the original, as written to me or as found from an ancient cookbook or a mystery novel. None of them is like the other.
All of them can be adapted—because it’s the only way I can cook. They all come with the essence of my favorite people—either because they inspired the recipe or they ate the dish with special appreciation.
Ah, cooking: I love it when I have the time, hate it when I don’t—but always prefer homemade to a restaurant (even if I’m eating Seinfeld style. Yes, a bowl of cereal: sometimes I call it supper.
I put together this limited edition cookbook as a way to thank book groups for welcoming me into their homes and hearts.