Warming Up To the Kitchen Again

A month ago, I hit a breaking point. I was overwhelmed to the point that I just shut down. My immune system refused to cooperate, my first semester of grad school was draining me, I wasn’t sleeping well or enough, we were having an ongoing nightmare with our landlord about repairs, I was really tired of washing dishes, and cooking all the time wasn’t fun anymore. My desire to eliminate xanthan gum from my diet meant yet another step of adaptions and alterations to recipes. It was too much, and I couldn’t deal with cooking anymore. I didn’t even want to be in the kitchen. I ate far less than I should have, purely out of the desire to avoid dealing with food anymore.

I think it was the broccoli-cheddar soup that did me in. It was such a simple little GF substitution, a mix of thickening flours for gluteny all-purpose flour, but the cheese didn’t melt in properly, and the soup was a rather sad thing in the end. (Next time I’ll just use tapioca flour…if I ever get up the nerve to face the broccoli-cheddar soup demon again.) My experiments with trying to bake bread without xanthan gum were also exhausting. Chia seeds and water can do amazing things, but I ended up with too many experiments in one place initially, and the bread died. Actually, I never even tried it. It was just a sad little rock, slightly burnt. I couldn’t even bring myself to eat it.

By this point, my physical exhaustion and my kitchen frustration had won. Even though I managed success with a chia seed slurry in a gluten-free flatbread pizza, my desire to create food was nonexistent. This was a problem, considering my food restrictions. Fortunately, Zachary likes to cook, and though he doesn’t tend to be too complicated or fancy about it, he can make a variety of tasty things. Because he is absolutely wonderful, he has picked up the slack and done much of the cooking over the last month. This on top of working 40 hours a week. I can tell it’s tiring him out, so I’ve been coaxing myself back into the kitchen to do more cooking, but mostly, it has felt like a chore. Which is sad, because I think of myself as someone who loves to cook.

But recently, I’ve been reading food blogs again. I’ve been looking at recipes, and coming up with ideas, and contemplating all the exciting things I can do with the food processor I got a month ago and haven’t even had the heart to take out of the box. (This is evidence of just how disillusioned with all things kitchen I had become: I had been really excited about the prospect finally buying a food processor.) I had Zachary buy some frozen cranberries from the co-op, thinking that if the urge struck me, I would be prepared to make some tasty muffins. I found myself pondering soup – I love soup, and it’s finally getting to be proper soup weather here. I thought about soda crackers, and how I think that with some experimenting, I could probably wrangle some good gluten-free ones – if I could just find the desire to make them, and the determination to keep trying even if they didn’t turn out right the first time.

As luck would have it, I rediscovered my desire to create food…while in the midst of frantically writing major academic papers, being unable to get over lingering illness, and engaging in a stressful battle of wits with our landlord. So, there really wasn’t anything to be done about this desire to bake and cook except make promises of chocolate ganache pie to my beleaguered boyfriend and assure him that I would start cooking regularly again after I got the rough draft of my final paper for my graduate history seminar in. Which I did yesterday! I’m still recovering from the insufficient sleep of the past week, and there are a lot (a lot) of dishes that need to be washed before I can do much with the kitchen…but tomorrow. I’m going to make things happen in my kitchen tomorrow.

I’m going to pace myself. I’m going to let myself eat popcorn for lunch if I feel like it, and I’m going to accept that packaged soup happens sometimes, and I’m going to be okay with buying Udi’s bread sometimes, and I’m going to accept that everything won’t be perfect the first time.

A lot of the credit for my, uh, recovery is due to oatmeal. Beautiful, beautiful, Bob’s Red Mill gluten-free rolled oats. When I went off gluten in May, I was told to also go off almonds, peanuts, and oats. I can see the logic of almonds (there are often mold problems) and peanuts (they’re not as nutritious as we would like them to be, there can be mold issues, they’re a common allergen), but oats? Even most people with celiac disease can eat certified gluten-free oats! Being warned off oats seemed like it was mostly a cautionary measure. I’ve been talking and talking about the possibility of eating oats again; it would be a reasonable experiment and it would open up so many possibilities. Finally, Zachary took me at my word and brought home a package of Bob’s Red Mill oats.

Who knew oatmeal could be such a marvelous experience? I’m sure it helps that this is really good oatmeal, and I cooked it properly on the stage, but wow – expanding the possibilities of things I can eat instead of limiting them. It’s an exciting thing. I feel like a rebel. But so far so good – I’ve had oatmeal three times over the past week, with no ill effects. And I keep thinking about everything I can do with it! I can grind it into flour and use it to bake with, I can make oatmeal raisin cookies, I can make a fruit crisp, I can have more breakfast options, I can make granola and granola bars! I am seriously excited about oats.

I’m excited about food again. I’m excited about experimenting with food, and trying things, and adapting, and making it work. What a relief! And just in time for the week off that I have over Thanksgiving. I have a feeling that our freezer is going to start filling up with leftovers again – thank goodness. Because leftovers are probably a better idea for lunch than popcorn.

Best of all – because I have a camera now, I’ll actually be able to take pictures of my culinary accomplishments (and failures) and start posting here. My plans are coming together. And my Zachary will get his chocolate ganache pie.

A Recipe Test Post

A basket of biscuits

This is a temporary test post, using pictures of gluten-free biscuits I baked last Christmas. My mom had been diagnosed with a severe gluten allergy something like a year earlier, and I was determined to make tasty gluten-free baked goods for her while I was home for the holidays. I did a lot of reading and I came up with some modest successes. My mom was delighted with these biscuits – but they tasted too much of sorghum for my tastes. The biscuit recipe quest continues, but in the meantime these pictures will help me format this site!

A bit of old-fashioned baking

A Beginning

As much in the interests of trying to avoid driving all my friends crazy with my continual Facebook posting about all (ALL) the things I’ve been cooking and baking, as for any other reason, I am starting a food blog. Another very good reason for the existence of this fledgling blog is that it will allow me to easily share recipes with my mom, 800 miles away, who has similar food allergies/restrictions to me.

I can’t eat gluten, I’m not supposed to eat almonds, peanuts, or oats, and I should avoid sugar, but I’m less strict about that last bit and tend to just avoid highly refined sugars. These dietary restrictions are fairly new – only since the end of May – but I’ve also been off MSG, high fructose corn syrup, and trans fats for years. And I’m really suspicious of soy, so I avoid that. I’m a big believer in food that’s made out of food, basically. I like making things from scratch, I like using fresh ingredients, especially when they’re local and in season. I suppose I fall into the “ethical omnivore” camp – I will happily eat meat, eggs, and dairy products, but I believe that it’s important to buy products from naturally raised animals.

I mean, really. A happy chicken is a delicious chicken. It is also a more nutritious chicken, a less-likely-to-be-contaminated chicken, and a better-for-the-planet chicken. The same goes, even more strongly, for beef. Cows that eat, you know, cow food (grass, not grains) are much healthier, and astronomically safer to eat and better for the environment.

I believe in buying organic when possible/affordable, especially for the “dirty dozen” that really aren’t safe when bought conventionally. I believe in trying to buy products fair trade, direct from farmers and makers when possible, and from companies I know to be responsible in their dealings with farmers and other food producers. Even when it’s a little more expensive. Even though I’m on a graduate student’s budget.

Because this is the only planet we’ve got, and this is the only body I’ve got. I do what I can.

I haven’t eaten out for over a month. And apart from one small, frozen gluten-free pizza purchased from the local co-op a couple weeks ago out of curiosity, I haven’t eaten purchased prepared food for a month either, much less processed food-like-substances. And really? I don’t feel like I’m missing much. In fact, I feel like I’m consistently eating better than I ever have before. Plus it’s nice not having to worry about gluten contamination eating out.

But I’m not doing this alone. My boyfriend Zachary and I share a food philosophy, and since we moved in together at the end of July – just over a month ago – we’ve both been eating entirely home-made meals, without gluten, almond, peanut, oat, or soy, and with limited refined sugar. He doesn’t have any required dietary restrictions (though we’re agreed about the suspiciousness of soy), but he wants the kitchen to be a safe place for me, so he wants to keep it gluten-free, and has been cheerfully eating along with me. (Side note – in the interests of him not developing an allergy or sensitivity he doesn’t already have, we’re going to acquire something gluten-y for him to munch on soon.) He doesn’t feel deprived either.

It’s amazing what you can do with fresh, whole ingredients and some effort. Sometimes a little, sometimes a lot. Sometimes his effort, sometimes mine, sometimes both. We don’t have a fancy, extensive kitchen. We don’t have a lot of gadgets or a lot of space. But we both believe in good, real food, and we both enjoy cooking. It goes a long way.

And I want to share the adventure we’re having. I want to be able to give recipes and tips to friends and strangers alike, especially to my mom. I want to keep track of my culinary explorations and trap myself into taking pictures. I want to be a part of the online gluten-free food community. And more than that, I want to be another small voice telling people that they really can cook food, real food, and love it. They can even cook lots of things quickly and easily, if that’s their priority. People haven’t typically grown up cooking for generations – that needs to change. And I quite like the idea of being another voice among many pushing for that and helping it along.

(Jamie Oliver has wonderful, wonderful things to say about this in the cookbook Jamie’s Food Revolution and in his Ted Talk.)

Honestly, I suspect that part of the reason I’m starting this blog is because sharing food is very important to me – and I don’t have much of anyone to share my food with in a literal sense, these days. My boyfriend Zachary is an appreciative audience (and sometimes he’s the one cooking), but I don’t know anyone else in Las Cruces, and cooking and baking can get a bit lonely. I get lonely, the food gets lonely. So this blog is a way of trying to share food, if in a slightly roundabout fashion.

And if you’re wondering why it’s called The Dog and Chicken Kitchen… Zachary and I discovered upon moving in together that we each possess a cast-iron animal figurine of which we are quite fond. His is a dog playing a saxophone (Zachary’s instrument of choice), and mine is a plump chicken that amuses me to no end. Naturally, I put these two creatures together – in the kitchen, because that’s where I always keep my chicken – and somehow, they look just right together. The dog is serenading the chicken. The chicken looks pleased. The dog looks cool.

It’s the dog and chicken’s kitchen. And it’s ours.

Welcome to The Dog and Chicken Kitchen.

-Ava