In Defense of My Pantry
Every time I read anything written by Michael Pollan or see an interview with him on TV I find myself slinking into my kitchen and guiltily scanning my pantry and fridge, feeling huge amounts of remorse for every food item packaged in a box (not counting, of course, my box of CSA vegetables. Yeah right, I don’t belong to a CSA because I’m not rich and I’m the only one in my house who eats vegetables anyway. If a CSA provided steaks and hamburgers, my husband would totally be on board. And if a CSA provided chocolate mouse and champagne, then I too would be on board). I’m ashamed of my canned soups, jarred spaghetti sauces, frozen waffles, bags of chips, my huge ass box of Ghirardelli brownie mix from Costco, anything that’s pre-processed, which is basically everything in my house. Why do I even have food in my freezer at all? Other than my step-mom’s homemade pesto, made from home grown, organic basil, everything in there is bad bad bad. But it all tastes so good good good. Those Ghirardelli brownies? Better than any brownie I’ve ever made from scratch.
I used to try. I really did. I would cook and bake from scratch as much as possible. Hell, I even made my own bread and brewed my own beer. But then everything changed. I had a baby. Cooking from scratch with a new born in the house is not a viable option. Let me share with you a very true anecdote to further substantiate my point: One morning in the not so distant past I put my daughter, Kinslea, down on her play mat and she seemed pretty content so I naively thought to myself, well crap, imma hella make myself some instant oatmeal for breakfast instead of having my usual cereal bar (the cereal bar being my go to breakfast due to the very convenient fact that I can unwrap and eat it while holding a baby). No cereal bar for me today though. Nope, today I’m going to enjoy a nice leisurely bowl of instant oatmeal. So I strutted into my kitchen and put my oatmeal in a bowl and then put it in the microwave for two minutes. One minute in to the two minutes needed to cook instant oatmeal, Kinslea began to cry. Now holding Kinslea, I waited for the remaining minute to pass, stirred my heated oatmeal, and carried baby and bowl of oatmeal into the living room to eat. Or so I thought. Kinslea had other plans for me and my oatmeal, which included me not eating said oatmeal. By time I got Kinslea soothed and properly fed, my oatmeal was cold. And there is nothing more sad and undesirable in this world than cold instant oatmeal. Needless to say, it has been cereal bars for breakfast ever since. And cereal bars don’t exactly come from the ground. No, they come from a box and are pre-processed and have ingredients. Good food isn’t supposed to have ingredients, good food is supposed to be THE ingredient, like kale or pomegranate. I looked, and cereal bar is not an ingredient.
Not only do meals in my house have to be quick and easy, you also have to be able to eat them with one hand. Since Kinslea has been born I can literally count on one hand dinners I ate while not breastfeeding or holding a baby. So soup or anything else that is drippy and heated to lava like temperatures are out. Giving my daughter third degree soup burns on her head is not on my bucket list, surprisingly. And besides all that, what’s the point of putting a lot of time and effort into a fancy meal that you’re probably going to have to scarf down. Honestly, it’s impossible to enjoy a meal when your baby is screaming.
I don’t have the time to heat up a bowl of instant oatmeal, so how would I have time to chop up my CSA provided (that is, if I even belonged to one) organic vegetables to toss into my cage free, organic egg white omelet? I have an excuse in my daughter. Yeah I’m sure there are super moms out there with new born babies who whip up gourmet meals cooked with locally sourced, organic, ingredients. They probably even belong to CSAs. And they can afford to shop at Whole Foods. But that’s not me. And I refuse to feel guilty about it, Michael Pollan be damned.
When Kinslea is older and can actively help me in the kitchen, then yes, I plan on reverting back to scratch cooking. I even know the first recipe that Kinslea and I will make together: yogurt cake or gateau au yaourt. According to a parenting book I’m reading called Bringing up Bebe by Pamela Druckerman, the French teach their children patience by cooking with them every weekend. The first recipe children are taught is for yogurt cake, due to its ease; you measure out the ingredients using a yogurt container. I think Kinslea and I can handle this in three years. But until then, empty cake mix into bowl, add eggs and oil, leave out guilt. And really, I’m okay with that.
Recipe: Yogurt Cake (g�¢teau au yaourt)
Summary: adapted from Bringing Up B�©be
Ingredients
2 (6oz) containers of plain yogurt (keep containers for measuring the other ingredients)
2 eggs
2 containers sugar
1 tsp. vanilla
Just under 1 container of vegetable oil
4 containers flour
1 1/2 tsp. baking powder
You can also mix in chocolate chips, nuts, or berries
Powdered sugar (optional)
Cr�¨me fraiche (optional)
Instructions
Preheat the oven to 375 F
Coat a loaf pan or 9� round cake pan with cooking spray or oil.
In a large mixing bowl, combine the yogurt, eggs, sugar, vanilla, and oil.
In a separate bowl, combine the flour and baking powder.
Add the dry mixture to the wet mixture, stir until just combined. Add mix ins if using them.
Scoop it all into your baking pan, bake for 35-45 minutes or until golden and the cake springs up when touched (or when a toothpick inserted is pulled out clean). Let it cool on a rack.
Dust with powdered sugar (optional) and serve with the Cr�¨me fra�®che (optional).
Preparation time: 15 minute(s)
Cooking time: 40 minute(s)
Number of servings (yield): 8
