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Excerpt from Playing
in the Kitchen
Introduction
Non–cooks think it's silly to invest two hours' work in two minutes' enjoyment;
but if cooking is evanescent, so is the ballet.
Julia Child
I owe my approach to cooking to a seminal childhood event. My mother seemed like
a wizard in the kitchen. I would sit on the stool and watch, fascinated. Occasionally
she allowed me to do little things, like stir or pour. It was very exciting. One
day, when I was about 9, they did something no parent in 21st century America
would dream of. They went out to run errands and left me alone with my two younger
siblings. I decided, since my parents worked so hard, that I would surprise them
by making soup. I put everything I loved into my soup; potatoes, noodles, barley
and salt. I gave it a stir, and then went outside to play, because I knew soup
cooks itself. When my parents pulled into the driveway a couple of hours later,
I could hardly wait to show them the surprise. Unbelievably, my brilliant soup
had cooked down into a charred pot of inedible paste. My parents, who were generally
harsh disciplinarians, laughed and congratulated me on trying something so difficult.
My mother explained the nature of starch. And my father said, “The important thing
is that you tried something new. Nothing ventured, nothing gained!”
These words have informed most of my life choices, but never more than in the
kitchen. While there have been some spectacular failures in my culinary adventures,
fortunately, no one’s survival depended on it. The only suffering that occurred
was my bruised ego. And unlike a failed career or marriage, it’s quite simple
to just start over. I can’t tell you how many times the word “Oops!” has escaped
my lips – whether it’s because a carrot leapt from the chopping board and landed
in the compost bucket, or because I just thoughtlessly dumped the chocolate into
the food processor that I was supposed to carefully fold in at the end of a recipe.
I have accidentally skipped steps in a recipe, omitted entire sections and misread
the directions. I have botched my share of mayonnaises and sponge cakes. But I’ve
also discovered some really cool recipe variations, developed new approaches to
a recipe and sometimes ended up revamping a recipe entirely because my error opened
up new possibilities.
Throughout my lifetime of playing in the kitchen, I have been a passionate student
of personal development. My first career as a performer was dedicated to creating
and performing stories of search and transformation (with the help of some slapstick
comedy). This led to a curiosity about the nature of our emotions and expressions.
I discovered the Feldenkrais Method of Somatic Education. Somatic Education
is literally educating through the body. As a practitioner of this elegant approach
to self study (Smithsonian Magazine once called it a “revolutionary approach to
learning”), I began to recognize the links between habitual tensions, our emotional
life and how we get in our own way. This led to two of my books: What Are You
Afraid Of? A Body/Mind Guide to Courageous Living and Walking Your Talk: Changing
Your Life through the Magic of Body Language.
This study of the relationship of movement to tension spilled over into other
aspects of life, including the kitchen. I noticed how some people get nervous
at the thought of cooking. Whether due to upbringing, temperament or lack of experience,
the idea of play does not enter into their culinary experience. Cooking is a chore,
or even a terrifying event. Some people spend huge amounts of money on catered
meals in fear of disappointing their guests with their own attempts. I’ve seen
cooks chop with their shoulders up by their ears, grim determination wiring their
jaws into grimaces of pain. I found myself devising exercises for my friends to
help with better body mechanics or relaxation as we prepared meals together. Then
some chefs came to see me for Feldenkrais lessons because of repetitive
strain injuries or aching feet. I began to be curious about the connection between
playing in the kitchen and relaxation.
Meanwhile, people who knew my love of cooking started asking me for recipes. At
one point I compiled them into a booklet. Requests increased. People complained
that their booklet fell apart or that the food stains had made the ink run. Publications
began requesting humorous articles about food and the body. And suddenly, all
of this material seemed to call for what you are holding in your hand. Recipes,
stories, movement exercises for better use of self and tips for transforming cooking
from work to play are the ingredients of this literary buffet I’ve prepared for
you.
Playing in the kitchen can be a metaphoric journey, a body/mind investigation
or just the act of baking a pie. Therefore, I’m offering a smorgasbord of options
for exploring your personal relationship to kitchen playtime. Here’s the menu.
Recipes
I cannot take credit for most of the recipes. I have culled them from books, magazines,
NPR stories, old wives’ tales and the occasional flash of personal brilliance.
While many of the sources are out of print, when it seems appropriate or useful,
I have included the source for your further reading. The recipes I’ve chosen are
not designed to teach you how to cook, or how to cook in a particular style. They
are the recipes people always ask me about. They are the recipes I’ve mailed and
emailed to others so many times they live in a special file. I have made so many
mistakes cooking most of these recipes, that I’ve discovered variations, or at
least have learned ways to rescue the meal. Therefore every recipe also contains
tips, suggestions, and “rescue remedies” such as substitutions for missing ingredients
so that meal preparation can remain play and not turn into a hair–raising exploit.
Explorations
I have been a teacher of the Feldenkrais Method for many years. Dr. Moshe
Feldenkrais was an engineer, martial artist and athlete who developed a movement
technology that affords anyone the opportunity to live a more functional, pain–free
life. Using sequences of small movements, the Feldenkrais Method teaches
us how to use ourselves more effectively. It is used in universities and rehab
clinics around the world. People at all levels of performance, from Olympic athletes
and concert violinists to persons suffering from limitations due to injury or
illness, attest to its value for increasing abilities and enhancing quality of
life. The Felenkrais Method allows you to discover, in a delightful and effortless
manner, how to free yourself of lifelong habits of tension and holding.
I have included several movement explorations based on Feldenkrais’ teachings
that I have found particularly helpful not just in the kitchen, but in all aspects
of life. Some of them are designed to be done before or after cooking, but most
can just be integrated into your kitchen routine. They can reduce stress, ease
physical and mental discomfort and improve use of self while chopping, cooking
or even lifting heavy pots. Since it’s not easy to work in the kitchen and read
movement instructions at the same time, I have recorded the explorations in this
book. They are available as free audio downloads on my website: www.laviniaplonka.com.
Play them while you’re playing in the kitchen!
Stories
I’ve included stories about food, about cooking food, about my relationship to
food. Some of them are traditional folk tales that I have found particularly relevant.
Some of them are essays from my own never ending relationship with the act of
cooking.
So if you never cook a single recipe from this book, I hope you will find some
of the other ingredients I’ve included worth tasting. Words are as much a feast
for the mind as food is for the body. Above all, I hope that this book inspires
a sense of play – in the kitchen and in life.
Bon Appétit! |
