Kitchen Confidential

In the weeks after 9/11, I cooked a lot.  My daughter had just started high school and was teary and fragile.  I rushed home from work each night to check the crockpot, add ingredients, set the table, put out napkins and light candles.  In the middle of the week, I made a chocolate layer cake to mimic the one from our favorite restaurant.  I tried my hand at biscotti, cooked soups, soaked beans, made lunches, bought a bushel of apples, and picked sunflowers for our table.  I tried to make life at home as normal as possible.  Better than normal.  For her.  For me…

This summer, a brief video on Instagram about a wooden rolling pin had me inspired to bake.  I like cooking best and despite the chocolate layer cake, have never been keen about baking.  Too much flour.  Too much mess and a brain that doesn’t know how to read a recipe well and now eyes that can’t see recipes easily either.

But the video ad showed a quaint homey wooden pin rolling out beautiful pie crusts to exacting heights.  And the fact that it is called The Lovely Rolling Pin charmed me to no end.  I was smitten. 

The problem, as I saw it, was that my kitchen doesn’t have a fancy granite-covered island – one with enough room for chic containers of almond and whole wheat flours,  mixing bowls of every size, and a big handsome KitchenAid mixer.  Also, high stools for the resident lick-the-bowl types who are always available and willing to chat while your read your recipe from an IPad leaning against an attractive decorative rod iron stand.  No…I only have short stretches of clear counter space on either side of my sink and old electric hand mixer like the one my mother used.

But this was no excuse if I was to actually buy The Lovely Rolling Pin, delightfully scrolled with “1/4 in.” on the end (the pin rolls out dough to a precise 1/4 inch).  And it is indeed lovely – smooth in the hand, mysteriously impervious to sticky scraps of dough, and just naturally nice to hold and to use.  So I made a few pies and tarts which encouragingly improved as the summer wore on.  These were created without that great island and all the latest designer baking accouterments.  Just me and my pin, fresh ingredients and a open heart.

Lately, I’ve taken to doing a late night sweep of the downstairs before bed.  I check the locks and make sure the kitchen window is secured which I sometimes forget.  It’s a comforting little ritual that I enjoy.  During my short peregrination, I’ve been turning on the little chandelier over my kitchen table too – the one my new son-in-law thoughtfully bought and installed for me as a Christmas gift.  I turn the dimmer down low until the light just barely glows.  As I trundle off to bed, I know no one will see it until I awake in the morning and go back downstairs for coffee.  Still, it is reassuring to know that a little light twinkles in the dark kitchen below.

I know what drove me to cook, bake and create those weeks after 9/11.  But I’m not sure it was entirely The Lovely Rolling Pin that drove me to the kitchen this summer.  I think the reason may be the same one that makes me keep the light burning in the kitchen.

Today I made a lemon tart and brought it to a dear friend recovering from serious surgery.  I hope it was as comforting to her as it was for me to make for her.  I did use my Lovely Rolling Pin…

And now, before bed, it’s again time to set the kitchen light to glow.  It assures me that all is well.

P.S.  Thank you for your comments on my last post.  I read and I am grateful for every one!