I’m sure if you wanted to, you could get right into knitting or crochet. Any kind of yarn, thread or needle workings. Some ladies choose quilting and sewing. Crafting in general is totally something that is easy to get obsessed with, what with the endless amount of supplies and devoted media. One project can lead to the next and each one can become more time-consuming, with the difficulty rating increasing each time. I like to factor this in because I’m a goal setter, I value accomplishments, checking off a list as it were. Now, personally, I’m not a crafter. The last time I did arts and crafts was when I was a nanny on the Upper West Side and had hours upon hours to devote to 2 young children. TV is not an option for most nannies. Most people who can afford nannies do not want their children being co-babysat by the boob tube. They want their precious spawn to be intellectually and creatively stimulated with every breath. So we made Rorschach butterflies and dioramas. I hated it for the most part, but the kids loved every second.
When I left Nannytown and started my travels toward Spinsterville, I left my dowels, tongue depressors, paints and craft paper behind. So for my own adult adventures into the specific, challenging, and Obsessive Compulsive Personality Disorder traits I chose food. For me getting engrossed in making an elaborate meal from soup to nuts is a good fit. I love process, I love research, I love challenge, I love eating. This year I finally tackled Boeuf Bourguignon, but in the past I’ve made cassoulet, mole, steak au poivre, flourless chocolate cakes, I’ve done 7 course meals for 18 and enjoyed every morsel (groan). I relish when a recipe is more than 5 pages. I devour feeling intimidated at the start of the day when I’m about to really dig into the multiple steps of a menu.
I like food because like crafts, in theory if you follow the steps it will come out beautifully, but that is just not the case. There is something innate in the process. I think in my case, it has a lot to do with the fact that I just want to eat good food all the time. I’ll always choose that experience when I’m looking for something to do, let’s cook, let’s go out to eat, let’s go try the weird place with the good fish fry or the fancy pants restaurant with the seasonal menu. But the point is, food, or rather cooking and baking for me, are a way to focus my energies and attention that could be otherwise thwarting the way of the Spinster. If I wasn’t already prepping a celebration cake, 2 sides for my family’s meal and assisting a friend as she works her way through her own family holiday meal I might otherwise be letting my thoughts RSVP yes to a pity party invitation that I am alone for the holidays or worse yet I might be considering dating. And we know, no self-respecting Spinster dates and certainly no one needs not to be a Sad Sally about her chosen path. Being a Spinster does not mean a life of boredom, unfulfilled dreams or weeping willow nights alone. In fact it is about the opposite; revel in who you are, be glad you are among the few that can be good company to yourself and enjoy your life without the hassle of compromise!
I’d like to elaborate as I often do on some of the aspects of cooking that I super-duper enjoy. For starters, I love the structure of a recipe but stepping away from it is invigorating. Taking a recipe, repeating it enough that I know how I want to tweak it, to maybe make it just that much better or sometimes recognizing the recipe I’ve been using is the best choice. Speaking of recipes, any Spinster worth her salt is a reader and there are some cookbooks that read better than the Barnes & Noble top 10 staff picks. Julia Child’s Mastering the Art of French Cooking reads like a nerdy and quirky Harlequin romance novel. She doesn’t just love the food, she adores it and she wants you to enjoy yourself in the kitchen the way she does. The manner in which she describes prepping eggs is downright tawdry: ”With a large table fork, beat the eggs only enough to blend the whites and yolks thoroughly. From 30-40 vigorous strokes should be sufficient” (Child, J., & Beck, S., 1970, p. 128). One of my cooking heros had the omelette recipe read at her wedding and I have to say it was some of the greatest relationship advice I’ve ever heard. ”Learning to make a good omelette is entirely a matter a practice. Do one after another for groups of people every chance you get for several days, and even be willing to throw some away. You should soon develop the art, as well as your own personal omelette style” (Child et al., 1970, p. 127). Pick it up and you won’t be putting it down anytime soon.
If scholarly writing is more your style, think research, actually think lab research notebook from your favorite scientist, then look to Cook’s Illustrated. The writers of this 1000 plus page heavy weight take a recipe, repeat it, perfect it, find the variations, label them and are accompanied by hand drawn images of very fine detail. Open any page and read aloud and some of my cooking buddies will be asleep in the amount of time it takes to poach an egg in the microwave (it doesn’t work) but I do love them for the thorough attention to detail “So we set out to deal with each vegetable individually, hoping to maximize texture and flavor while minimizing the amount of oil” (Galvin, L., & Klee, A., 2004, p. 164). This is where I do my research. Say I have a recipe I want to make, or something I’ve made a million times just from tasting something at a restaurant or reading a recipe once and never looking back, I will go to the Cook’s Illustrated manuscript to find out where the recipe originates, why it’s made the way it is and what is the best method for best flavor.
If it’s story, soul and a deep understanding of food I look to the great Edna Lewis. She is the Zora Neale Hurston of cookbook writers. When I first read Edna Lewis’ The Taste of Country Cooking (1976), I would find myself getting weepy over her prose.
Freetown was a beehive of activity, with everyone caring for crops of new animals, poultry, and garden, gathering dandelions and setting them to wine. People also helped each other by trading seed, setting hens, and exchanging ideas as well. Although this was a hectic time and visiting was put off for a calmer time of year, the neighbors still found time for unforgettable pleasantries. I remember when I was very little, our neighbor Mrs. Towles came over one bright afternoon and invited me for tea as she often did. As I walked along the path behind her, we came upon a nest of colored candy Easter eggs. I had never seen anything so beautiful in all my five years of life. I asked her how did she think they had gotten there, and she replied causally, “I guess the Easter Rabbit must have left them there for you.”
Come on! How gorgeous is that? I can completely picture Edna at age 5, I know what sweet Mrs. Towles is wearing, how sweet the tea is, and what the air smells like. I love settling in with Edna, the picture of her on the cover of that book, she’s smiling back at me, she knows how much comfort and joy she can spread throughout my house with her smothered chicken. These ladies are your friends, they are your constant companions and they will remain. They will remain deep in my heart and I always look forward to sharing these recipes with my friends and family. A good Spinster does not keep her knowledge locked up like her romantic life. She shares it easily, compassionately, understanding that the person you may share your favorite recipe with, the love of your life, someone may take that love and change it and that is ok.
References:
Child, J., & Beck, S., (1970). Mastering the art of french cooking, volume one. New York, NY: Alfred A. Knopf.
Galvin, L., & Klee, A., (2004). The new best recipe. Brookline, Massachusetts: America’s Test Kitchen.
Lewis, E., (1976). The taste of country cooking. New York, NY: Alfred A. Knopf.
