When I went away to college about 30 years ago, there were no laptops, no ipods, no Apples, no GPS systems. Mr. Hunting Creek and I had to find our way to Berkeley alone. Our parents did not drop us off or attend any orientation functions. We were on our own. Parents in those days threw some money at you and expected you to figure stuff out. Sink or swim, people!
Of course among the many things I packed, besides clothes and sheets and towels, were cookbooks and my sewing machine and patterns. I forgot to bring scissors, so one day I walked down College Avenue and bought a pair of Gingher shears that I have to this very day. I am reminded of this by articles in the paper today of how expensive it is to send a kid to college. I didn't have anything that the kids have now except sheets and pillows. (If I had had a computer, I'd have my doctorate today, because I was world's most reluctant typist and only the fear having to type constant twenty page papers held me back from a life of academia.)
We liked to cook our own meals, so we shopped and cooked from scratch. We entertained our friends. We came from families that cooked, so we believed that if we could read, we could cook. Just follow the recipe. Michael Pollan writes in today's New York Times that no one cooks any more. Can this be true? He didn't ask me. I cook. My husband cooks. My dad and brothers and sister cook. My daughter makes the best Toll House cookies on the planet. My son specializes in amazing sandwiches. He took a cooking class in high school, and would report back that they used Bisquik to make their pancakes, "Not like you, mom." (And of course, that the pancakes weren't as good as mine.)
Is it true? Does no one cook any more? I know lots of people who do. The only takeout that ever graces my kitchen is Virginia barbecue from the Virginia Barbecue company in Ashland, VA, or (lucky, happy day!) barbecue from Pierce's Pit Barbecue in Williamsburg VA, when Mr. Hunting Creek makes it his business to find business near Williamsburg.
If Michael Pollan would like to come to dinner, we'd be happy to make whatever he'd like. In the interest of journalistic integrity of course, to show him some people still know how.
