One of the unabashed joys of being an adult is being able to eat whatever what you want, whenever you want – even when you’re just not supposed to. Ice cream for dinner? Sure. Cold pork chops for breakfast? Why not? Naturally, there are a few nagging issues pertaining to food – cholesterol readings, fiber content, teeth rotting potential, etc. etc. – that creep into the adult mind and temper decisions, but the fact remains – the id, denied as a child, has a tendency to come roaring back as an adult.
We mature ones, however, do have a nice, grown-up phrase for those treats consumed whenever, for whatever selfish reason – comfort food.
My definition of comfort food has shifted a bit over the years. While once I craved candy and sweets, I find myself now drawn towards warm dishes, savory tastes that are close to the earth. Now that I can have all the candy I can buy, I don’t really want it anymore. Lately, my comfort foods have been hot soups, sticky rice dishes, and abundant roast winter vegetables – those ugly duckling varietals like swiss chard, kale, brussels sprouts and rutabaga. Maybe it’s because most American home cooks are still boiling the living bejesus out of their vegetables, but I am continually amazed at how people stick to the same trio of veggies they’ve been eating since preschool – peas, carrots and potatoes. I read recently that a child needs to be introduced to a new food item for at least 8 times before they will accept it. Surely for some vegetables, it’s 20 times or more.
A few years ago, I worked in a chic restaurant in Philadelphia with a young woman named Amy, who seemed normal in every way possible except for the fact that at the end of her shifts, she would beg the kitchen staff to prepare her a bowl of steamed cauliflower, tossed in butter. I don’t know how to explain it, she would say, it’s just one of those things. By the end of the evening, when the music was still thumping and the other servers were cradling cold beers, Amy would stand nearby, fork aimed squarely at her steaming florets. For the next several minutes, the bowl was her sole focus, as she introduced floret after floret to her mouth. We would leave her alone, and she would quietly consume her bowl of cauliflower.
I used to find Amy’s behavior puzzling at best. It wasn’t until recently, when I was walking through the farmers’ market that I remembered her strange ways. As I passed a table overloaded with large heads of cauliflower, including some that had rolled onto the ground beneath the table, I stopped. I thought of the satisfied look on her face as she would finish the last bit and selected two of the most perfectly round heads in her honor.
Amy’s Bowl of Cauliflower
One head fresh cauliflower, broken into smallish florets
Olive oil
Salt and pepper
Parmigiano Reggiano cheese
Toss florets to coat in olive oil and season with salt and pepper. Place in a shallow baking dish and bake at 350 degrees till browning slightly – one hour or so? Spoon into bowl and top with thin shavings of parmesan cheese. Eat until properly comforted.
2 Comments
March 21, 2007 at 8:42 pm
So, I tried this recipe twice: once with butter and once with olive oil. I will say that I liked it better in butter, but both times I was left feeling quite satisfied!
April 24, 2007 at 3:02 pm
i love amy..