Cooking Through It

jealousy, fires, and keeping it simple in the kitchen

The fires got way too close to both Getty Museums in Los Angeles but luckily, they were saved. Here I am at The Getty last summer.

It’s hard to think in LA right now. The fires, stress, and toxic particles in the air have given everyone in the county a deep, throbbing headache. The accounts of how many homes, communities, and lives have been destroyed are too much to take in, even in these very early days. This is far from over; the fires continue to lap up our city. Angelenos still have their go-bags packed, waiting by the backdoor, in case they have to run. Thousands of people never got that opportunity, and were forced to flee with whatever they had on them or could throw into a bag as firefighters pounded at their door. I’m very fortunate. I’ve had the luxury of time to consider what in my home is most precious to me, what I would take with me if I thought everything else would be lost. I’ve spent most of my adult life in a kitchen cooking. It’s how I make a living, it’s how I regulate my emotions, and it’s how I channel my creativity. And yet there’s not one single thing in there I would take with me if and when I have to leave.

If you’ve ever bought any of my books or have read my newsletters for a good amount of time, you know that I like to keep it relatively simple in the kitchen. I don’t like single-use gadgets, expensive equipment designed for aesthetics not function, or anything too trendy. I’ve been screaming this for years. I recommend people invest in a good knife, 1-3 good pots and pans, a wood cutting board, a good blender, food processor, or immersion blender depending on the budget, some big bowls, and a couple strainers. That’s really it. I firmly believe that you don’t need much to cook well at home and your money is better spent on ingredients than anywhere else. I’ve amassed a good collection of kitchen equipment over the years: some pretty knives, a stand-mixer, a perfectly seasoned wok, and my beloved grapefruit spoons. I’m very grateful that I’ve made enough money to buy a 10-cup food processor to replace the 1-cup food processor that I used to write and recipe test my first book. It’s absolutely made life easier, but none of the stuff in my kitchen has made me a better cook.

It's really easy to assume that you are one purchase, one bit of luck away from having a better life. I was so jealous when Molly Baz shared photos of her beautiful new home and kitchen designed for her growing family a year and a half ago. I daydreamed about what I’d do with a house, or even just a kitchen, like hers. I’d have great lighting, enough room for camera equipment, and layout that makes sense instead of the dark, shotgun kitchen I cook in now. My wife and I can’t even be there at the same time, but Molly’s kitchen was big enough for all of her dreams AND several adults. I was envious as hell. This week Molly announced that she lost everything in the fires. So many people did. It’s fucking horrific.

From @mollybaz on IG. Click to read her whole post.

Will she be less of a cook without her kitchen? Absolutely not, just like she wasn’t a better cook because of it. I got caught up in comparison and missed the point. The most important thing in any kitchen is the cook.

It’s so hard to not covet these beauties

You and your desire to cook are the most important things in your kitchen too. You don’t need the latest Le Creuset colorway or custom-made countertops to be a good cook. Our magpie minds are so easily distracted. Kat Thompson, associate editor of Eater at Home, also had to evacuate last week and didn’t grab anything from her kitchen. Although her home appears to have been spared, she reflected on what was actually important in her beloved kitchen. “If I have to replace my frying pan, I’ll feel more comfortable knowing my mom’s irreplaceable recipe for bacon-fried rice is encoded as muscle memory. I didn’t take anything from my kitchen because, even subconsciously, I knew I could make any new kitchen my sanctuary with the recipes I carry in my heart. The rest is just stuff.” Cooking is a practice. You hone your skills, your favorite recipes, over time. Even the laziest meals teach you something. All you have to do is pay attention.

I know that cooking can so often feel like a chore but all those nights in the kitchen add up to something bigger. Learning to cook for yourself and the people you love is a kind of independence. There is no climate disaster that can take that from you. Work now to build a skill set that will take care of you no matter what horrible twists fate throws your way. Learn to cook or deepen your skills in the kitchen. Challenge yourself to learn how to cook all your favorite meals without a recipe. Make your skills fire-proof. That’s the only way forward.

my tiny kitchen

People love to hate LA, even before the fires. Most of them have never been here—or to California. They don’t know how hard we work for all this beauty. They daydream about what their lives would look like if they lived here and assume all we do is surf, hike, and eat tacos. They’re envious and caught up in comparison, just like I was. Fortunes change so fast. Life is hard on all of us, whether we live in LA in a beautiful house or in a small apartment anywhere else. Our stuff doesn’t bring us comfort, not when it really counts. Take a minute to think about what you’d grab if you have to leave your home. My go-bag is full of important documents, my laptop, and a few pieces of family jewelry. I don’t need to take my kitchen with me. My stuff isn’t as important as I thought. All I need is myself and for this headache to go away soon.

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Tomorrow, I will be sending out a link to a new Meal Manager for January so keep an eye out for that. Stay safe out there!

xoxo,

Michelle