Tuesday, November 25, 2014

How Far Have We Come?

Sometimes I feel like I don't have the right to comment on racial issues because, you know, I'm white; I might be angry and I might be heartbroken, but I will never know what it feels like to be black in America.

But not giving my horror and my sorrow a voice ensures I won't be heard more than any oppression can, and that is unacceptable no matter who I am or what I face.  The grand jury decision in Ferguson last night - and scenes of the peaceful protest outside the White House, which brought tears to my eyes because this truly is happening in every city around the country - spurred me to research ways I can get involved in my community.  No matter how you feel about the violence and looting in and around Ferguson, about the right of the police to take any action they feel necessary to protect themselves, or even about reparations or affirmative action, I think we can all agree that this country hasn't come nearly far enough in the last fifty years and the only way to change that is for us all to get involved.

I hope we will.  I hope we do.

Monday, November 24, 2014

Lessons from the Kitchen: French Onion Soup

I've posted a couple of Instagrams since Jon moved to DC that have alluded to the fact that Jon and I have very different cooking styles and so we rarely cook together.  To be honest, the real issue is that I'm a control freak and I can't share without micromanaging, but beyond that we do subscribe to different schools of thought when it comes to cooking.  I'm not always terribly adventurous when it comes to experimenting; Jon, on the other hand, is a everything-but-the-kitchen-sink kind of cook.

It drives me crazy, and a crazy woman in the kitchen is a recipe for disaster.

(See what I did there?  I am so clever.)

Anyway, over the weekend I followed not one but two of Jon's culinary suggestions, and let me tell you: the result was delicious.

When he came to visit last April, we hosted a seder and, after the meal, scooped up all of the gravy and leftover bits of carrots and onions and beef from the brisket pan and put it in tupperware and froze it.  When we had my parents and sister over for dinner in October, we made the chicken carcass into stock and, though I was wary, we dumped almost all of the leftovers from the roasting pan into the pot to flavor it - vegetables, stuffing, and all - and then put that into tupperware and froze it, too.

This weekend we decided to make French onion soup and, instead of putting in the suggested eight cups of beef stock, we used what we had in the freezer: four cups of that super rich chicken/vegetable/stuffing stock plus four cups of the brisket bits, pureed in the Cuisinart.

Oh my goodness, dear readers.  We topped it with slices of toasted asiago bread piled high with grated cheese, and it was the most decadent French onion soup I've ever had.   Even more notably, though, I admitted to Jon that, sometimes, everything but the kitchen sink tastes pretty good.