My Own Two Hands

There is something unmistakably satisfying about making something with your own two hands. It is an experience not to be missed. It rings true in a way that is so different than eating a great meal in a restaurant, and undeniably miles apart from opening a box or space-age package containing unpronounceable ingredients. The beauty of cooking at home is that it isn't nearly as hard as people make it out to be. I think sometimes we forget that it was only a couple of generations ago that cooking, and creating by hand was simply what the vast majority of people did. The process of turning raw ingredients into something greater than the sum of its parts is not to be missed. I happen to love it, and I cook every day. I think it is honorable, creative, inspirational, and centering. After all, food is what we count on to live. Remember that the next time you are in a grocery store picking out what will become the fuel for you our your family to survive, and hopefully thrive.

Am I opposed to eating out? Absolutely not. In fact this post was inspired by a restaurant owner. One person's commitment to practicing a craft, and treating it like an art. Using two hands to make magic. Does this all sound lofty and pretentious? It's not. Dom DeMarco, owner of DiFara pizzeria in Broooklyn, NY has been making pizza for a long, long time. Let us examine for a moment what a long time is. In 1977, after owning the pizzeria in tandem, he bought out his partner and has had made every single pizza his shop has sold with his own two hands since that day. Every one. He has owned the shop since he was a young man in his twenties, and has been making pizza since he was a child. This my friends is dedication to a craft. The commitment that he would turn out the best product he could, using great ingredients, and never rushing is old-school at its finest. Fifty plus years, and a lot of pizzas. This is not about whether DiFara is the best pizza, or worth $5 a slice, and $25 a pie (though many refer to it in religious tones, and the wait for a pizza can often approach two hours). This is about someone who takes what he does to heart. At the end of every day at the shop, Dom has a glass of wine and a slice of pizza he made that day, to assess what he has produced.

So what does this have to do with cooking at home? It's about attention to detail. It's about caring about what you produce. It's about using your hands. When I cook I try to always remember that I am participating in a legacy that has been around for the course of civilized history. Cooking never has to be some mysterious activity practiced by a few. In fact it is one of the most democratic activities that exists, because it is simply about what you do. Knowledge means nothing in cooking without practical application. Practice. Practice some more. And then practice again. The beauty is that as you practice you have the opportunity to eat the results, and those results get better and better as time goes on. Why was Grandma's cooking so good? Maybe because she had been doing it for 50 years. Just a thought. Dom DeMarco made pizzas in relative obscurity until 1999 when a review in a restaurant guide drew the attention of the general public. It took forty years of making pizzas in Brooklyn before the world cast its gaze upon his little shop on Avenue J. That's a long time to practice. Obviously Dom loves what he does, because at the age of 73 when most people have packed it in for a slower existence he is still making pizza. Dom says that he will continue to do what he does until his body stops working. It isn't about money, and it's certainly not about fame. Dom cares about making great pizza for people. When we cook at home we should remember that. After all, we are usually cooking for family, friends, and ourselves. These are all incredibly important people if you ask me. Remember that the next time you prepare a meal and all will be just fine.

The pictures above are a few examples of food I made this week. Pancakes, I love pancakes. One was plain with apple and brown sugar compote. The other simply had dark chocolate chips in it. Both were lightly drizzled with real maple syrup, and both were delicious. The second picture is sweet potato gnocchi with sage butter, sprinkled with freshly grated parmigiano reggiano. Know most people's reaction would be, "who the hell is going to make fresh gnocchi at home?" I guess I would. People have been doing it for centuries after all. In fact, I had never made them before. It wasn't that difficult and it was well worth it. It was really really worth it in fact. The last picture is a typical 'what do I have on hand' sort of a meal. Here is how it played out. I have this yellow squash from the farmers market, I should probably use that today. I could saute that up in some olive oil, made a sprinkle of sicilian oregano. Then I could dump some fresh cooked pasta in the pan, a little bit of the starchy cooking water, salt, pepper, touch more oil, and we are golden. I have these cippolini onions that are amazing, maybe pan roasting them with butter would be nice. Oh yeah, I have the two different colored sweet potatoes that I roasted yesterday. Why don't I slice them and quickly pan fry each slice for a crunchy exterior. Now I will stack the sweet potato slices and onions because it kind of looks cool, plate the pasta, sprinkle with parigiano, and dinner is served. That's how my brain works a lot of the time when I cook. The thought process is not where it's really happening though. It's my hands that carry out the cooking, it's my tongue that I rely on to taste everything I make. How do you learn how to season food? Season and taste, and practice. My hands don't produce what Dom DeMarco does, but he certainly does inspire me to care deeply about what I make. For this I am incredibly grateful.

"Pizza has become considered a fast food. This one is slow food. Anything you do, when you do it too fast, it's no good. The way I make a pizza takes a lot of work. And I don't mind work." -D. DeMarco