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I am not much for New Year’s resolutions. I generally find them to be frustrating, useless, and all too easy to forget about by March.
If something is important enough to me that I make a resolution to do it, I would rather it be a permanent change, not just something to throw away after 365 days.
Perhaps one of the most interesting things about resolutions is the word’s origin. In the 15th century, the word ‘resolve’ actually meant “to break down into simpler parts” or “to loosen” – somewhat contradictory to how we use it now.
The New Year is, after all, about tightening up everything from your belt to your wallet after a good month or two of nothing but letting loose. Food, especially, seems to be made into enemy number one, to be fought against with a treadmill and a floret of steamed broccoli as weapons.
I have done the diets, joined the gyms, and bought the fat-free sugar-free food-like substances that claim all manner of health benefits. And what did I learn? It’s boring. It’s unsatisfying. And it’s completely opposite to how I would prefer to live my life.
Truth be told, I feel much healthier when I’m laughing with family over pot roast and potatoes than when I’m obsessively calculating every calorie and stressing over whether or not I’ll be able to fit into that dress by Valentine’s Day.
As you can imagine, a food-lover like myself is somewhat alarmed by the annual “war on food” that is New Year’s resolutions. If I may, I’d like to offer you a different kind of resolution – to go old-school, if you will, and put the emphasis on the word’s original definition by reducing food to its most basic parts.
Food, at its core, is three things: 1) nourishment, 2) a deeply personal and cultural symbol, and 3) something to be enjoyed, if you are so lucky as to be able to do that.
First and foremost, we must eat to live. Doesn’t get much simpler than that, but I have found that it is far too easy to forget just how basic our need for food really is. Secondly, call me a nerd, but one of my favorite things about food is how it is able to communicate both an entire culture and an individual’s personality in a single meal. It sounds lofty, but it’s true – a cappuccino in Italy will tell you a lot more about Italian culture than any book ever could, and a dinner at my house will probably reveal my personality with much greater accuracy than any old conversation.
I am not much for New Year’s resolutions. I generally find them to be frustrating, useless, and all too easy to forget about by March.
If something is important enough to me that I make a resolution to do it, I would rather it be a permanent change, not just something to throw away after 365 days.
Perhaps one of the most interesting things about resolutions is the word’s origin. In the 15th century, the word ‘resolve’ actually meant “to break down into simpler parts” or “to loosen” – somewhat contradictory to how we use it now.
The New Year is, after all, about tightening up everything from your belt to your wallet after a good month or two of nothing but letting loose. Food, especially, seems to be made into enemy number one, to be fought against with a treadmill and a floret of steamed broccoli as weapons.
I have done the diets, joined the gyms, and bought the fat-free sugar-free food-like substances that claim all manner of health benefits. And what did I learn? It’s boring. It’s unsatisfying. And it’s completely opposite to how I would prefer to live my life.
Truth be told, I feel much healthier when I’m laughing with family over pot roast and potatoes than when I’m obsessively calculating every calorie and stressing over whether or not I’ll be able to fit into that dress by Valentine’s Day.
As you can imagine, a food-lover like myself is somewhat alarmed by the annual “war on food” that is New Year’s resolutions. If I may, I’d like to offer you a different kind of resolution – to go old-school, if you will, and put the emphasis on the word’s original definition by reducing food to its most basic parts.
Food, at its core, is three things: 1) nourishment, 2) a deeply personal and cultural symbol, and 3) something to be enjoyed, if you are so lucky as to be able to do that.
First and foremost, we must eat to live. Doesn’t get much simpler than that, but I have found that it is far too easy to forget just how basic our need for food really is. Secondly, call me a nerd, but one of my favorite things about food is how it is able to communicate both an entire culture and an individual’s personality in a single meal. It sounds lofty, but it’s true – a cappuccino in Italy will tell you a lot more about Italian culture than any book ever could, and a dinner at my house will probably reveal my personality with much greater accuracy than any old conversation.
Last but most certainly not least is the joy of eating. Maybe it comes from my Georgia-raised mother, but eating must be one of my favorite activities. Experiencing different flavors and textures is just fun for me, plain and simple. What’s more, I am grateful for the fact that I can enjoy food, instead of worrying about where my next meal might come from or how to get it. That is food to me – basic, symbolic, and delicious.
When considering a resolution or two this New Year, think about what they are in their most basic forms. Start your resolutions from scratch. (Everything tastes better then, anyway.) Cheers – to a simple year!
Saffron-Porcini Pasta
This is one of the first recipes I learned to make when I lived in Italy, and eating it takes me back there every time. To me, it encompasses everything that food should be – healthy, satisfying, and absolutely delicious.
Serves 4
Ingredients:
- 14 ounces (about 1 pound) fresh pasta
- 3.5 ounces dried porcini mushrooms
- 5 tablespoons olive oil
- 2 garlic cloves, diced small
- 3 shallots, diced small
- 1 bag (about 2 teaspoons) saffron
- 1/3 cup chardonnay
- 1 cup cherry tomatoes
- Palmful of fresh parsley & basil (if available)
- Parmeggiano Reggiano cheese to taste
1. Soak the mushrooms in warm water for 1 hour.
2. Slice the mushrooms after draining; do not throw away the drained water.
3. Sauté the diced shallots and garlic in a large pan with the olive oil. Add the mushrooms and simmer for 10 minutes.
4. “Melt” the saffron in a small glass of the porcini water and add it to the pan with the wine and salt & pepper to taste.
5. In a separate pan, sauté the cherry tomatoes with the parsley & basil for about 5 minutes before adding to the mushroom mixture and cooking for about 2 more minutes.
6. Cook the pasta until just before it’s done – fresh pasta only needs to cook 3 – 5 minutes or less, so test it often. Add the pasta to the sauce pan and toss until well-coated.
7. Serve hot with plenty of cheese sprinkled on top.
Dedham resident Gillian Gurish’s food blog When Bread Is Broken can be found at whenbreadisbroken.wordpress.com.
