Confrontations aren’t my thing. In fact, I strive for peace and good will, which makes this incident all the more surprising.
I was in a hurry and I threw her down, flat on her back. The shocked face stared up at me. “Sorry, really,” I winced. “I didn’t mean to do that.”
As apologies go, it was lame. But she just looked up at me with a fixed plastic smile and fake, highlighted, blond, airbrushed hair as I reached to help her up. I dusted off Martha’s face, while I quickly shuffled her to the back of the shelf.
“Sorry, again,” I mumbled, but I was holding my new favorite cookbook, “Sips and Apps,” by the Pacific Northwest’s own (naturally blond) Kathy Casey, with purpose. Martha has been replaced.
My cookbook collection started when I was young. My mom and I spent hours poring over new recipes to make at family gatherings for every season. She was willing to try new foods or techniques, no matter the outcome. Reminiscing, I realize that not every kid ate kidneys over rice. If I served that to my children, they’d be calling CPS.
My parents both loved cooking and my dad’s gigantic garden plot in North Seattle grew everything from gargantuan zucchinis to rhubarb. Even to this day, it irritates me to buy produce when I recall truly fresh quality, all free for the taking.
The Federal Way Saturday Farmer’s Market at The Commons mall is well worth the visit every Saturday. That’s the best way to buy real homegrown ingredients. It’s a good thing.
Every August growing up, my parents hosted their annual Lefrancois Soiree showcasing the bounty from their garden. My childhood friend, Kathy Casey, has mentioned that watching my French dad make hundreds of handmade tortellini — while my mom created galantine on a lark for this party — inspired her too.
The cookbooks I’ve hoarded from yesteryear are sometimes vague, with missing instructions. This era we’re living in allows us to Google the name of a food, and instantly, hundreds of recipes pop up on your screen — if you have access to a computer, that is. At the risk of sounding archaic, that isn’t my style of selecting a recipe. It’s plain overwhelming. I much prefer to touch the glossy pages while admiring a color photo.
Let me count the ways I honestly love “Sips and Apps.” The handy, five-by-seven-inch hardcover is easier to hold than Martha’s behemoth tabletop volumes. When I was taking care of my sister, I tucked this book into my purse and carried it around with me. One libation in particular had me wanting to mix it up on the spot. I know Sandy would have loved it. Sadly, it was only 10 a.m., plus my sister didn’t have the ingredients for the Berry Orange Creamsicle Martini. But I seriously contemplated running to the store.
I haven’t been this excited about a cookbook since the Junior League of Seattle came out with “Simply Classic.” Thick pages boast beautiful food and drink photography. It is well-organized, with color coding between sections. There’s even a page-saving ribbon. Kathy provides tons of practical tips for making substitutions, with advice on exactly how to achieve success with each recipe. Martha doesn’t do that. She expects us mere mortals to just know! This little cookbook will erase the fear of trying something new, and it will motivate you to start your own snazzy annual event. That’s what summer is to me: Relaxing with friends, sipping cool drinks, and munching on something that doesn’t resemble a potato chip. Even Martha would appreciate this one.
