I spent the afternoon with my Portuguese grandmother, who we lovingly call Vava.
We watched old movies and reminisced on family history. Every time we get together
I learn a new family story that clears up unanswered questions that have been concealed for decades. When I was little, my sister, brother, and I would crouch
down to hide behind a staircase or door frame and strain to hear the adults
talking. The stories they were laughing about are told and retold at family
reunions. Once I became an adult I had earned the privilege to hear and
understand them. One thing I’ve learned is that nothing changes. The mistakes
people make and learn from have been made several times over, long before we
were even born.
Yesterday I struggled to come up with a dinner to make my
Vava. Over time she has become allergic to a whole list of food and is limited
with sodium intake. Usually I pick a recipe from my cookbook without thinking
about gastronomic restrictions so it was hard to wrap my head around these
limitations. After an hour I finally decided to let inspiration come when it
decided to show up, which it did in the Whole Food’s produce aisle.
I’ve been eyeing chard every time I walk by the leafy green section.
Chard comes in three different varieties: Green, Red, and Rainbow. The flavor
of the green chard is similar to Spinach so I knew it would be safe for my Vava
who had not seen it before. I used to be one of those people who shied away from
trying new, unfamiliar food. Now I'm fearless as I navigate through the rows
of exotic food.
I found a beautiful acorn squash sitting among the other
squash family members and pumpkin gourds. Acorn squash is similar to butternut
squash but it’s not as sweet. It can be roasted, boiled, or grilled. With the
vegetables chosen, I knew I would make them with basmati rice and my homemade
veggie stock.
Any decent chef knows you have to be able to improvise and adapt
to any cooking situation. First you get the lay of the land (or kitchen) and
figure out where the basic tools are stored. It feels odd at first because you’re
deciphering someone else’s thought process. They put this kitchen together,
organized where every dish would go. To them it makes sense, to you it feels
like your first day cooking. You stumble around, opening up every cabinet
and if you’re on a time crunch you start to swear a little under your breath.
At some point you start to feel yourself getting the flow of
the new kitchen. You start the prep work to get mise en place and the cooking begins. Soon enough the enticing smells from the kitchen get
the attention of people in other rooms. They find a reason to poke their head
in to see what’s cooking. I love the chaos and loudness of a busy kitchen. This
is my calm. This is what relaxes me from a stressful or monotonous work day. I
tune everything out and focus on the food.
Tonight, by the time I set to cooking dinner I realized I
had only an hour to prep and cook the meal. As a chef you have to calculate
what you can get done before a deadline and what will suffer if you take a
short cut. I cut the acorn squash into smaller, half-moon pieces so they
would roast in half the time I had planned. I wanted the roasting process to
still extract that squash flavor and yet not be left with large uncooked chunks.
While the squash was roasting, I boiled the veggie stock I
brought from home. Most stocks you buy at the store and bouillon cubes have
really high sodium levels. By making my own veggie stock I controlled how much
salt went into it. One cup of basmati rice was added to the stock and I lowered
it to a simmer. It may not look like much, but one cup of rice is enough for
two people.
I set to prepping the other ingredients. Vava was my sous
chef, she tasted the chard and her “mmm” was all the approval I needed. I threw
it in the sauté pan with garlic, shallot, fresh sage and thyme until the chard
was wilted a little bit and set it aside.
While the rice continued to simmer in the stock, I took out
the squash from the oven. After it rested for a bit I peeled off the green
outer layer. The hard green shell is left on in the roasting process to protect
the squash from overcooking. After 30 minutes or so in a 400 degree oven
the hard shell becomes soft and pliable.
By the time the rice finished absorbing the liquid, plumping
up to half an inch in size, I threw all of the ingredients into the rice pan.
My Vava ate her entire bowl and kept saying, “mmm, it’s good”
quietly to herself. That is the ultimate response a chef loves to hear.
What’s true in cooking is true in life. Where we come from, the
baggage we pick up along life’s crazy journey shapes who we are and how we’ll
respond to life’s cruel or joyous next step. If you remember your roots, the
next step won’t seem so scary. In fact, it gives us the strength to put foot
to pavement.
Sarah Jenkins
