Part 11 (1/2)

For his first dish, Tom chose to make one of his favorites, a mushroom risotto, while his mother zeroed in on a less ephemeral dish of baked pasta.

”We went shopping, came home, and cooked,” says Tom. ”We ate the risotto for dinner, and I got to take home the pasta dish. Next we made minestrone, then I made it on my own, only I added sausage and tortellini-it's really thick! It's amazing to be able to customize what I'm making. I can decide that I like corn, so I'm going to add a lot, or I like my sausage cut differently than in rounds. Ah, freedom!” (His mom, however, thinks his minestrone is a little over the top with both ravioli and sausage going in there.) After a month Tom had cooked the following foods: ”Minestrone. I've made guacamole three times-it's my mom's recipe. It's really good. I've made chicken quesadillas eight times (he starts with a chicken breast, flattens it, then sears it), and chicken carbonara once. That was the weakest. I had more noodles than anything else. The egg was chunkier than I thought it would be, and I didn't have enough bacon and peas. I cooked all the parts myself, but I need to do it again. And I just made the minestrone again. I was amazed. Even shopping at Whole Foods it cost fifteen dollars to make. That's three meals worth-it seemed like a bargain to me.”

Even in the face of something as daunting as medical school, Tom plans to keep up his cooking. ”I think I can take a few hours off every few nights to do something good and healthy for myself-cooking and working out.” And he probably will, because, ”One thing about cooking,” Tom says, ”is that you really appreciate the leftovers. They're so much better than takeout.”

Despite the pressures of college, one young man we know bought himself a set of good pots and pans as soon as he got to MIT and is now cooking his own meals. Having been reared by parents who grew a big garden (his mother also had a natural foods cafe for many years and later founded the Cooking with Kids program), Peer Hofstra is already somewhat proficient with vegetables. Now he's experimenting with other foods. His mother, Lynn Walters, reports on his progress. ”Peer called last night and said he'd bought a lamb shank and wanted to know what should he do with it.” Another call brought a question about what to do with cured meats and should they be refrigerated or not? Lynn is thrilled that he's trying new foods, that he calls for advice, and that she's able to help, even from a distance. Mothers who cook are a tremendous resource.

Young people who are able to feed themselves are bound to be quite something in the eyes of their friends who don't know how to cook. They will be admired and sought after. More than once we've met a young man who can dazzle his guy friends-and girlfriends-with even a modest amount of kitchen prowess. My twenty-four-year-old nephew cooked his way into a house he wanted to live in by impressing his future roommates sufficiently with a single meal that they agreed immediately he should live there. And Tom Anderson has already shared his new cooking skills.

”I had three friends over for dinner and served a risotto with sausage, artichoke, and peas; a green salad; and a chocolate-peppermint ice cream cake.” And he dressed his own salad with olive oil, vinegar, and salt. ”That's something I knew from living at home,” he said.

His friends were impressed.

Although this menu seems ambitious for one who describes himself as standing on new and shaky kitchen legs, Tom had a theory as to why it wasn't so hard for him to pull off what is a rather sophisticated meal, one demanding last-minute attention to detail.

”Working in labs, as I have for the last three years, isn't that different from kitchen work. It's all recipes. So the multiple things going on at once in the kitchen were never overwhelming. I could make the risotto while prepping the dessert-not a big deal. At one point I was tending all three dishes at once!”

Some of our young acquaintances tell us that they like to go out to eat, preferably with a group of their friends. But even so, there are some dishes that might be good for them to know how to cook, dishes that aren't too expensive that they can share, like spaghetti, or a perfectly cooked pot of rice to put under a curry, or a roast chicken and a well-dressed salad. Having even a few fundamentals under the belt will make a young person self-reliant. And when his friends discover that he can cook, and should they become serious poachers and pests in the kitchen, they might be asked to chip in some cash for their home-cooked meals. Before you know it, that young man (or woman) might have a supper club going.

For some young people, cooking can become an avenue to friends.h.i.+ps and popularity when confidence in other areas isn't strong. Bread in its many guises was my introduction to the world of cooking and my means to overcoming shyness. It served as a springboard from which I quickly dove into all the other foods that might be cooked as well, starting with soups to go with that bread.

For others, cooking can be a form of self-defense. My niece, writing from Italy, where she is spending her junior year, described pretty much a starch- and cheese-based diet for the first month. Then she wrote, ”My roommate and I are cooking vegetable dinners at home to combat the overwhelming, albeit friendly barrage of pasta and pizza. Otherwise it is possible that I may return from Italy in the shape of a large noodle.”

Entertaining is something else a young person might want to take on one day, and there are different ways to go about it. A bachelor I once knew (not a kid but he can be an example to one) was very smart about food and wine. He served beautifully orchestrated dinners that were always flawless because he had just two menus. He made those menus over and over and they were easy for him to produce because he knew just what to expect. For his guests, the meals were always enjoyable to eat because they were so well made. He avoided being a slave to entertaining, yet he entertained with great style. His method wasn't any secret. His friends all knew to expect menu A or menu B, and we all felt lucky to be at his table. So if lime-marinated chicken fajitas are your dish, figure out a few more foods to serve alongside them and stick with that until you want a change. And to stave off boredom, devise another menu as an alternative.

Quite in contrast to the well-thought-out menu approach is a story Eugene Walter tells in the book Milking the Moon. When he lived in New York as a young man, he loved to entertain and did so whenever money was available for a party. Once, when the check he was counting on didn't come through but he had already invited people to a soiree, he was forced to work with what he had on hand, which wasn't a lot. So he decorated his table with red crepe paper, put out two big jars of peanut b.u.t.ter, and added a festive array of breads and rolls obtained from a bakery where he happened to have credit. He had red wine to drink and everyone had a great time. The most important ingredient here, though, was flair, and Eugene Walter had plenty of that!

Even though I know how to cook all kinds of things, one of my happiest dinners was one thrown together on the spur of the moment for friends we had run into at an art opening in our village. Because we live in the country and can't just dash to the store, I had to cook from the contents of what happened to be a rather spare pantry. But after a short while, we were all sitting down to a big platter of spaghetti with tomato sauce made from canned tomatoes, which I bolstered with bits of smoked dried tomatoes and a handful of fresh parsley. The simplest food possible, but it was so good and the evening was such fun that I remember thinking in the middle of it all how glad I was I knew how to cook, even if it was nothing more than spaghetti and tomato sauce. One thing I do know is this: If we had had to go out to a restaurant in town, the gathering never would have happened and we would have parted in a haze of promises for a future dinner that probably wouldn't have materialized either.

So what handful of recipes should be included for younger cooks, or those just starting out regardless of age? We thought of foods that are relatively inexpensive, foods that provide a meal you can eat from for a while, and foods that aren't super-involved to make. Actually, this description applies to most of the recipes in this book.

Some foods we think are especially good to know how to make include a pasta you can make from what's in the cupboard; a green salad; a roast chicken and a stock from its carca.s.s; polenta or mashed potatoes to go with it; a vegetable or two; a frittata, which is inexpensive, nouris.h.i.+ng, and endlessly varied; a confidence building pot of brown or white rice; and a vegetarian stir-fry and tofu curry to go with it. So here are these dishes, many of them tested by young friends who-smartly-have learned how to cook at least a few good things.

Roast Chicken This marvelously versatile bird may look like a lot of food for one person. But think of it as the stuff of Sunday dinner, Monday's sandwiches, Wednesday's salad, and after that, soup. Ultimately a chicken is a sound investment.

If you've never roasted a whole chicken, be sure to reach inside the bird to take out any packages you find. They contain the neck, gizzard, heart, and liver. The liver is delicious fried in a little b.u.t.ter, deglazed with vinegar, and eaten on toast. As for the other parts, add them to the stock.

1 CHICKEN, WEIGHING ABOUT 3 TO 4 POUNDS.

OLIVE OIL.

SALT AND PEPPER.

1. Preheat the oven to 425 degrees F. First pull out the two big globs of fat you'll find near the cavity's opening, then quickly rinse the bird inside and out with cold water. Blot with paper towels, getting it as dry as possible. Brush the olive oil over the skin, then season the bird well, both inside and out, with salt and freshly ground pepper.

2. Put the chicken in a pan or baking dish large enough to hold it, the breast facing up. (If you're not sure which is the breast and which is the back, look at the legs and try to visualize a chicken standing. The breast will be the plump, meaty side that faces forward.) If you have some string, tie the legs together.

3. Roast in the center of the oven until done, which will take about 1-12 hours for a 4-pound bird. Pierce the area between the leg and body with a knife: if the juices run clear, your chicken should be done. The top will be beautifully browned and it will smell wonderful.

4. Lift the chicken from its juices onto a cutting board or a platter. Slice off whatever you wish to eat-breast meat, a leg, a thigh-and enjoy while hot and juicy. Save the rest, wrapped well and refrigerated. When you're done with the meat, use the carca.s.s to make a stock.

Variations There are hundreds of ways to roast a chicken, as cookbooks will tell you, but here are three very straightforward things you can do to enhance this simply prepared bird.

Slip aromatic herbs under the skin before roasting, such as sprigs of oregano or marjoram, rosemary or sage, or an a.s.sortment of herbs.

Mince rosemary, garlic, parsley, and black pepper together, then mash in b.u.t.ter or olive oil to make a moist paste. Rub this between the skin and the meat, especially over the breast but also over the legs, wherever you can manage to gently separate the skin from the flesh with your fingers.

Fill the cavity with halved lemons, garlic cloves, sprigs of rosemary, and chunks of onions.

Chicken Stock to Use at Will Sure, you can buy a box of stock, but you can make your own, too, from the chicken you've roasted. Some recipes for chicken stock will ask you to use an entire chicken with all its flesh intact. This is not that kind of stock. Our chicken has already been cooked and mostly eaten, so it's not going to make a rich ”chicken soup” kind of broth-nor will there be a great deal of it. But it will make something that will nicely enhance a soup or a risotto.

1. Once you're finished taking off all the meat you plan to eat, put the carca.s.s in a pot and cover it generously with cold water. Bring it to a boil and skim off the foam that collects on the surface, then reduce the heat to very low. Add a peeled, chopped onion, a carrot cut into large chunks, a stalk of celery similarly chopped, a bay leaf, and a sprig of thyme if you have one. Leave it for several hours-I leave it overnight-with the liquid barely moving. It will slowly reduce and you'll end up with about 4 cups of stock.

2. Strain the stock and refrigerate it. As it cools, the fat will congeal. You can sc.r.a.pe it off and use or discard it. If you don't plan to use the stock that week, pour it into one or two containers, label them, and freeze.

Mashed Potatoes While russets make light fluffy potatoes because of their floury flesh, really you can mash any potato, including sweet potatoes. And since leftovers are useful, you might as well cook at least two big potatoes.

Mashed potatoes is one of those dishes you can make entirely by eye and by taste, enriching them with tons of b.u.t.ter, as is done in restaurants, or a more modest amount.

2 LARGE RUSSET POTATOES, ABOUT A POUND.

SALT.

b.u.t.tER, SOUR CREAM, OLIVE OIL, OR b.u.t.tERMILK (FOR ENRICHMENTS).

CHOPPED PARSLEY.

1. Peel the potatoes unless they're organic and you like the good flavor of the skin and its flecks in the mash. In that case, scrub them. Cut into chunks more or less equal in size, put them in a pan, cover with cold water, and add a teaspoon of salt. Bring the water to a boil, then turn down the heat and simmer the potatoes until they're tender when pierced with a knife and easy to crush.

2. Scoop the potatoes out of the pot into a bowl, add a little of the cooking liquid-about 14 cup or more-and mash with a fork or a potato masher. Enrich the potatoes by stirring in b.u.t.ter, sour cream, olive oil, or b.u.t.termilk, to taste. Chopped parsley is good, too, and it flecks the potatoes with pretty green confetti, especially when you use a lot. Taste and add more salt if needed along with freshly ground pepper. Mash until the potatoes are as smooth or as coa.r.s.e as you like.

Potato Soup Made with Leftover Mashed Potatoes Here's a simple way to make a soup using leftover mashed potatoes. Soften a sliced leek or small sliced onion in 1 or 2 tablespoons b.u.t.ter or olive oil over medium heat with a sprig of thyme, some chopped parsley, or a few fresh sage leaves. Add about a cup of leftover potatoes and enough water or chicken stock to thin them to the consistency of soup. Bring to a boil, then simmer for about 10 minutes. Taste for salt, season with pepper, and serve alone or with any of the following-a smidgen of cream, a bit of b.u.t.ter or creme fraiche swirled in, chopped herbs on top, or chive b.u.t.ter . Other garnishes might include slivered arugula, diced fresh tomatoes in summer, or chopped sorrel leaves in spring.

Mashed Potato Cakes Reheated mashed potatoes are never as good as they were the first time around, but you can use leftovers to make a really tasty potato cake. The simplest thing to do is to shape leftover mashed potatoes into a patty and brown it in b.u.t.ter or oil. But you might as well take advantage of their neutrality and add, before frying, such tasty bits as sliced scallions or finely diced onions that have been sauteed in b.u.t.ter or oil for a few minutes to remove their raw edge. You can also add grated cheese and cooked greens, such as chard, spinach, or kale, with or without the onions and cheese. For a crunchy surface, press the potato cake into sesame seeds, breadcrumbs, or chopped nuts before frying.

Simple Stir-Fry of s.h.i.+take Mushrooms, Snow Peas, and Tofu Dried s.h.i.+take mushrooms are something you can have in your cupboard ready to use whenever you are. But you can also use fresh ones. The dried ones need to soak for 15 minutes, but that's just long enough to gather your ingredients. A dark, toasted oil, whether sesame or peanut, adds flavor to the dish. If you're reheating rice, use half the mushroom soaking water as the liquid.

4 DRIED s.h.i.+TAKE MUSHROOMS.

13 CARTON SOFT TOFU, DRAINED AND CUT INTO 1-INCH CUBES 2 FAT SCALLIONS, INCLUDING A LITTLE OF THE GREEN, SLICED ABOUT 14 INCH THICK 1 GOOD HANDFUL (ABOUT A CUP) OF SUGAR SNAP PEAS.

FRESH OR LEFTOVER RICE.

1 TABLESPOON ROASTED SESAME OR PEANUT OIL.

2 TEASPOONS MINCED GINGER.

1 CLOVE STAR ANISE.

SALT.