CHAPTER 1
Cooking Something Up Together
Women of all generations and ages have shared one very special and constantlover—food. This sweet-talking seducer lures women out of bed for many a late-nightrendezvous, causing us to bask in the unforgiving light of therefrigerator as we eagerly devour leftovers. This tempter offers itself in ever-changingand enthusiastic forms—the sensuousness of a chocolate torte, theboldness of a ripe strawberry, or the inventiveness of a white corn soufflé—and,through its metamorphosis, succeeds in keeping us faithful, our affectionsunwavering, even sometimes bordering on obsession.
My obsession began very early. My mother Jeanne-Berenice is French, and thoughshe was orphaned in World War II and never had anyone to teach her how to cook,one could say she was genetically predisposed to being a great chef. The scentof Boeuf Bourguignonne would waft through our house on a regular basis. Whenother children were bringing bologna sandwiches to school, my mother supplied mewith a Tupperware container of Coq au Vin and a slice of Quatre Quart (a Frenchpound cake, the recipe for which you will find later in the book).
I suppose the cooking gene was passed on, and in my early twenties, Itemporarily left school to pursue my interest in cooking. I went to theCalifornia Culinary Academy in San Francisco, where I had the distinct pleasureof meeting Lynette Rohrer, now the Executive Pastry Chef of Star's, in PaloAlto. Though Lynette never finished the Academy, she went on to work in the mostdistinguished restaurants in the San Francisco Bay Area: Postrio, Chez Panisse,Bisou, Masa's, and now Star's. We lived together during cooking school, and myfondest memory of Lynette displaying her skills was when she, during a fairlywild party, approached me and several friends in the hot tub to offer up a finedisplay of caramelized Spam triangles, elegantly nestled in a silver servingdish.
That is undoubtedly a charming quality in a chef: though one's skills in thekitchen may be extraordinary, there is no reason to be a food snob. In fact, oneevening she and I were dining at Masa's (her employee discount made the mealonly exorbitantly, not unconscionably, expensive), and after a meal that couldonly be described as a religious experience, dessert arrived. The chef, knowingLynette's predilection for junk food, put together a phenomenal array oftwinkies sliced on the bias, ho-ho's swimming in crème anglaise, red zingersresting on a pool of red raspberry puree, all beautifully garnished with abrunoise of red and black licorice, gracefully scattered on the plate. Sheeagerly gobbled it up.
Until all too recently women's love affair with food was considered illicit ifit dared to cross the boundary into the professional kitchen. Thanks to manydedicated wild women, our gender now openly displays and profits from thisliaison. From being head chefs in some of the finest restaurants, to hosting andproducing gourmet cooking shows, to even the tyrannical homemaking of MarthaStewart, women have dared to take what we were once expected to do at home, andturn these daily tasks of food preparation into an extraordinary and oftenlucrative art form.
Wild Women in the Kitchen looks at some of these pioneers, as well as at womenwho were trendsetters in food fads and food production, and those who werefamous gourmands. It takes you on a journey, an unpredictable exploration, offamous women and their relationships to food. Some have made a life of cooking;others (of different notoriety) simply have an unexpected favorite recipe. Whatthey all have in common is a fervent love of food.
Wild Women in the Kitchen offers recipes that can service the gourmet and thescavenger; elegant foods that require preparation and thought, and others thatcan satisfy an instant hunger. You can host a romantic dinner for two with aPassion Fruit Lobster Appetizer, Artichoke Heart Timbale, and Chocolate Fondue,or you can gather a group of friends for a night of Penne Pesto Pasta Salad andhomebrewed beer.
Lynette and I have enjoyed testing and contributing recipes for this one-of-akind cookbook and hope you will find it enjoyable too. And in the words of avery well-known wild gourmet who really liked her sherry, "Bon Appetit!"
–Nicole Alper
A Taste of Things to Come
There are strong women who can be moved to tears by the burnished purple beautyof an eggplant, the subtle upward arc of a banana, as promising as a new moon ora smile. There are plain-living women who believe that there is poetry in mashedpotatoes, yet would sooner eat their old-fashioned argyles than a forkful ofarugula. There are iron-willed women who revel in secret fantasies about thatproverbial pie in the sky, the kind that exerts no gravitational pull on thehips. There are sunny-side-up women who make tequila sunrises when life givesthem lemons. There are down-to-earth women who never forget to count theirblessings—or to ask for second helpings. Tastes vary; what is universal is theprimal pleasure we take in feeding our faces—and in the process, our souls.
For most of us, our introduction to inspirational dining was also ourintroduction to dining, period. A heady mixture of Mom—our own privateOmnipotent Goddess/Feeding Machine—and warm milk, that punchy post-natal noshsparked not only our passion for consuming, but our consuming passion for themost fascinating woman in our lives.
Eventually, of course, our interests expanded to include activities (earning aliving, for example) other than chowing down and gazing adoringly at ourparental unit. Yet according to a rather robust, apple-cheeked painter I onceknew, we hedonistic human beings actually dreamed up the adult diversions ofart, literature, and music only because we couldn't spend every waking momenteating or making love. (Between meals of one sort or another, Ms. Freud liked todabble in watercolors.)
I suspect, however, that something both more and less substantial than eitherthe mechanics of the human body (which, contrary to the impression one mightpick up from the current crop of fashion magazines, really does require theregular consumption of food) or the infantile whims of the id, thathollowlegged, bottomless pit of the psyche, drives us to eat and drink. True,the ascetic Joan of Arc, as we learn later in these pages, liked to get a littlebombed before doing battle: under duress, France's famous virgin warrior woulddunk a chunk of broth-soaked bread in a cup of wine and call it dinner. (Today,we call it French onion soup.) And even the decorous afternoon tea—that mostrestrained and ritualized of meals—was the brainchild of a lady with an appetitetoo lusty to tolerate the wait for a fashionably late dinner.
Yet as savvy take-out queens, mavens of fine cuisine, and the chef at yourneighborhood bistro all know, the contemplation and consumption of certain foodsoften transcends purely physiological ends, becoming an aesthetic experience inits own right, the gustatory equivalent of ogling a luscious Renoir, or sighingover a sonnet by Shakespeare, or slow-dancing with an old beau, in somedeliciously world-weary boîte, to a torch singer's bittersweet song.
For our favorite feminist fatales throughout history—women whose lives were asquirky and quixotic as their tastes in food—an intriguing variety of comestibleshelped induce a sublime mood. The divine dancer Josephine Baker, as you areabout to read, found that a bit of bubbly rocked her socks (at least on thoseoccasions when she was clad in something more than a G-string). Her own horsd'oeuvres turned the trick for the scandalous salon-keeper Natalie Barney,known, in the early 1900s, for making a mean cucumber sandwich, and also afamous French courtesan. Avant-garde art-lover Alice B. Toklas turned on withher psychotropic fudge; in the mind of Catherine the Great, large quantities ofcaviar were the key to successful copulation. And in twentieth-century America,a whole host of modern-day Mary Poppinses—among them Frieda Caplan, whotransformed her fondness for fruit into a multimillion dollar industry—stillfind nothing so festive as a tea party on the glass ceiling.
In life as in the kitchen, of course, there are no surefire formulas for wildsuccess (although Frida Kahlo's Chicken Escabeche looks like a winner to me).For connoisseurs of good food and great women, however, this eclectic volumeoffers a soul-satisfying smorgasbord of recipes, remembrances, and truly obscuretrivia (including, incidentally, the biologically sound reason why womenactually need their chocolate). Follow the recipes, if you will, with pleasure;consume with passion.
–Autumn Stephens, author of Wild Women and Wild Words from Wild Women
Alluring Appetizers
The Liberated Danseuse
Isadora Duncan, who revolutionized the dance world in the late 1800s with herspontaneous, flowing style that released the art form vSr from the constraintsof classical ballet—was equally free-form in her personal life. She wore loose,flowing gowns while she danced, baring her legs and breasts, shocking stuffyVictorians in Europe and the United States, and setting a trend that wouldeventually liberate women from corsets and stays. A firm disbeliever inmarriage—although she did eventually tie the knot, at age forty-one, with aRussian poet seventeen years her junior—she had two children out of wedlock andmany lovers. She also had one of the most dramatic deaths in history. In 1927,at the age of forty-nine, she was strangled to death by her own scarf when itbecame entangled in the rear wheel of a Bugatti sports car. She was not driving,she was being chauffeured by a car salesman with whom she had become illicitlyinvolved.
As might be expected in one who lived and died so flamboyantly, Isadora had anextravagant palate, often craving the most rare and expensive of foods—asparagus, strawberries, champagne, and caviar. Since she was not able to affordsuch fare, friends often prepared her favorite delicacies for her, rescuingIsadora from the fate of conventional cuisine.
Asparagus Salad
1 pound asparagus
2 tablespoons red wine vinegar
6 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 teaspoon Dijon-style mustard
1 tablespoon chopped capers
2 teaspoons minced shallots
4 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley
Salt and pepper to taste
Prepare the asparagus by snapping off the woody ends wherever they naturallybreak when you apply pressure, and place in a steamer basket. Place in a panlarge enough for the asparagus to lie flat, cover, and steam on high for 5 to 10minutes depending on thickness of spears. Asparagus is done when a sharp knifeeasily pierces the root end. Submerge the asparagus in an ice bath to stop thecooking and place on to a towel to drain. Refrigerate until cold.
Meanwhile, combine remaining ingredients in a small mixing bowl with a fork orwire whisk. Arrange cold asparagus on serving dish and drizzle the vinaigretteon top. Serves 4.
"Asparagus should be sexy and almost fluid ..."
–Diana Vreeland
That's Not Potatoes in Your Basket
The Biblical Judith was a very beautiful and stubborn widow who lived in the townof Bethulia and saved her city in the face of total destruction. Enemy troops,led by General Holofernes, rapidly approached the tranquil town and managed tocut off its water supply. The elders, wracked with fear and a sense ofhopelessness, had the audacity to give God an ultimatum: let it rain for fivedays, or they will surrender.
Judith, being the cunning woman she was, set out with a basket of rich cheesesand a jug of wine to meet the general. Already intoxicated by her beauty, anddriven to consume the wine because of the cheese, Holofernes was soon snoozinglike a new-born babe. Upon which Judith grabbed his sword from its sheath,adeptly sliced off the great leader's head, and carefully tucked it into herbasket. When his troops approached the following day, they found their leader'shead mounted on a stake outside the city gate, and ran in horror. In honor ofJudith, Jewish people incorporate cheese into the menu on the holy day ofChanukah.
Potato latkes, eaten in countless Jewish American households, are actually anadaptation of Sephardic cheese latkes. Because not many European Jews had readyaccess to cheese, they substituted something they had plenty of—potatoes. Wehave suggested a fruit compote to accompany the pancakes. It, too, is atraditional Chanukah food.
Potato Latkes with Apple and Pear Compote
(Nicole Alper)
Compote
1 tablespoon granulated sugar
1 tablespoon vanilla extract
½ cup Calvados
1 large pear (peeled, cored, and sliced)
2 large apples (peeled, cored, and sliced)
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
2 tablespoons butter
Potato Latkes
3 large potatoes
1 small onion
2 eggs
1 tablespoon flour
1 teaspoon salt
Vegetable oil for frying
Make the compote: Melt the butter in a sauté pan. Sprinkle the fruit with thecinnamon and sugar and sauté in the butter for one minute at a moderately lowheat. Deglaze with the Calvados and add the vanilla. Bring to a low simmer andcontinue cooking for 3 to 4 minutes. Remove from heat and let cool a bit whileyou make the latkes.
Peel and grate potatoes into a mixing bowl. Squeeze out remaining liquid ordrain in a colander for a few minutes. Peel and grate the onions into thepotatoes. Mix in the eggs and then the flour. Add salt and stir into a smoothbatter. Heat oil in frying pan (enough to cover the latkes). Drop a tablespoonof batter (approximately 3? wide) into the hot oil. When brown, turn and brownon other side. Be careful not to let the oil smoke. When golden on both sides,drain on paper towels.
For a healthier variation: Use the same batter, but pour it into a well-greasedmuffin pan. Bake at 350 degrees for about 45 minutes or until done and a knifeinserted into the center comes out clean. Serves 6 to 8.
Oprah's Favorite Pick-Me-Up—Then and Now
In Nellie Bly's biography of Oprah Winfrey, Bly describes the following incidentfrom the Queen of Daytime TV's heftier days. "Oprah halted taping and shouted toa crewman: 'Get me my Lay's™ potato chips! I don't care what you have to do toget them—just get them now or I won't finish the show!' The man ran out andbought five, fifteen-ounce bags. Oprah ate her fill and then continued taping,proving that you could always count on her when the chips were down."
In recent years, Oprah has cut down on such greasy goodies with the assistanceof Rosie Daley, formerly a chef for the Cal-a-Vie spa, whom Oprah calls her"diet cop." With Rosie's help, she dropped fifty-five pounds, and Rosie made theWomen's Food Hall of Fame with the bestselling low-fat cookbook, In the Kitchenwith Rosie. Here we offer some tasty tidbits to honor both the old and newincarnations of Oprah. The homemade potato chips and Tasty Tuna Dip are richtreats, so for those days when you are looking for something lighter, we includea lowfat dip and substitute raw vegetables.
Potato Chips
2 large russet potatoes
Enough vegetable oil to half fill a deep fryer
Salt to taste
Peel and slice the potatoes very thinly with a vegetable peeler, or lightpressure on a Cuisinart using the sheer blade. Soak the potato slices in coldwater for at least an hour and change the water two or three times: this is thesecret to crispy, tasty potato chips. Dry thoroughly by patting with papertowels.
Heat the oil up to 375 degrees (the oil must be extremely hot). If you are usinga deep fryer, put only enough potato slices in the basket so that they are notclumped together. Drop the basket into the oil—it will start bubbling. Shake andstir frequently so the chips don't stick together. Cook until golden brown, 1 to3 minutes. Remove onto paper towels to drain and salt. Serves 4.
(You can also make these in a wok if you have a wire mesh ladle, which in someways is better because you can toss the slices in one at a time and removeindividually when done.)
Dill Dip
1 cup nonfat sour cream
1 cup nonfat mayonnaise
2 teaspoons dried dill weed or 2 tablespoons very finely minced fresh dill weed
2 teaspoons dried parsley or 2 tablespoons very finely minced fresh parsley
Combine all ingredients in a medium bowl and stir well. Cover and refrigerate atleast one hour. Serve with chips or raw vegetables. Will keep in therefrigerator for up to a week. Serves 10.
Tasty Tuna Dip
1 6½ ounce can of tuna packed in water, drained
4 tablespoons butter, softened
1 teaspoon finely grated lemon zest (about one lemon)
2 tablespoons lemon juice
2 tablespoons olive oil
½ teaspoon dried oregano
1 clove garlic, pressed
Pepper to taste
Place all ingredients in a food processor and process until creamy. Transfer toa bowl and serve at room temperature. Serve with breadsticks or raw vegetables.Makes about 1 cup.
