More Home Cooking: A Writer Returns to the Kitchen

by Laurie Colwin

Overview

The food writer's award–winning second collection of Gourmet magazine columns, featuring recipes, advice & personal anecdotes from the kitchen and beyond.
Lucky readers in the 1970s and '80s discovered Laurie Colwin's urbane, witty fiction in The New Yorker, as well as her warm, engaging food writing in Gourmet magazine columns. 
More Home Cooking, the second collection of these columns, is an expression of Colwin's lifelong passion for cuisine and offers a delightful mix of recipes, advice, and personal anecdotes from the kitchen and beyond. She muses over the many charms and challenges of cooking at home in timeless essays including "Desserts That Quiver," "Real Food for Tots," and "Catering on One Dollar a Head."
As informative as it is entertaining, and filled with Colwin's trademark down-to-earth charm and wit, More Home Cooking is a rare treat for anyone who spends time in the kitchen and feels "like having a great conversation with someone that you love" (Samantha Bee).
Winer of a James Beard Hall of Fame Award
With a new foreword by Deb Perelman of Smitten Kitchen

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9780063062801
Publisher:	Harper Perennial
Publication date:	03/19/2024
Sold by:	Barnes & Noble
Format:	eBook
Pages:	235
File size:	4 MB

About the Author

Laurie Colwin is the author of five novels: Happy All the Time; Family Happiness; Goodbye Without Leaving; Shine On, Bright and Dangerous Object; and A Big Storm Knocked It Over; three collections of short stories: Passion and Affect, Another Marvelous Thing, and The Lone Pilgrim; and two collections of essays: Home Cooking and More Home Cooking. She died in 1992.

Laurie Colwin is the author of five novels: Happy All the Time; Family Happiness; Goodbye Without Leaving; Shine On, Bright and Dangerous Object; and A Big Storm Knocked It Over; three collections of short stories: Passion and Affect, Another Marvelous Thing, and The Lone Pilgrim; and two collections of essays: Home Cooking and More Home Cooking. She died in 1992.

Date of Birth:

June 14, 1944

Date of Death:

October 25, 1992

Place of Birth:

New York, New York

Place of Death:

New York, New York

Education:

B.A., Bard College; M.A., Columbia University

Read an Excerpt

Chapter One

The Lone Pilgrim

I have been the house pet to several families: friendly, cheerful, good with children, and, most important, I have an acute sensitivity to the individual rhythms of family life. I blend in perfectly, without losing myself. A good houseguest is like an entertainer: Judy Garland, Alfred Hitchcock, Noel Coward. You know what a specific public wants-in my case, groups of two, with children.

For example, Paul and Vera Martin and their children, Ben and Violet. Paul and Vera are lawyers. Paul spends rainy Sundays fishing, and although Vera is a good cook, she is not fond of cleaning fish, so Paul's grandfather's knife is entrusted to me. I do the neat job of a surgeon. Vera, who likes precision, was so impressed by my initial performance that she allowed me into her kitchen, and we have been cooking together ever since. I knew by instinct where she would keep her pots, her baking dishes, her mixing bowls, her silverware. If you are interested in people, their domestic arrangements are of interest, too. That's the sort of student of human conduct I am.

In Maine, I visit Christopher and Jean Goodison and their little son jean Luc. The Goodisons are haphazard housekeepers, but I have their routine down pat. Their baby and I get along famously. We have a few moments together: a hailstorm he observed from my lap; a lesson in crawling; an afternoon with a kitten. The best way with babies, I have come to know, is quietude. Never approach first. Be casual. Pay minimal tactile attention, and never try to make them love you. You can sit on the same sofa with a child and do nothing more than clutch its little foot fromtime to time, and before long you will have that child on your lap.

The Goodisons will leave jean Luc with me when they go shopping, although ordinarily -- with ordinary mortals, that is-they are very protective of their son. When they return, I surprise them with a Lady Baltimore cake. Alone in their house, I admire their Shaker table, the fancy-back spoons I find mixed in with their spatulas, the dried-flower arrangements in their lusterware pitchers.

And there are others: the Hartwells in Boston, who live in a Spartan apartment decorated with city-planning. charts. The rigorous Mazzinas, who take me camping. The jerricks, who dress for dinner and bring you a breakfast tray on Sunday morning: coffee, toast, and a small vase with a single flower in it. My friends admire my charm, my sagacity, my propriety, and my positive talent for fitting in with the daily life of others while holding my own.

The adhesive tape on my mailbox reads "P. Rice." Paula Rice, that is, known to all as Polly. I am the charming girl illustrator. I did the pictures for Hector the Hero, The Pig Who Said Pneu, Fish with Feathers, Snow White and Rose Red, and The I Don't Care Papers-all children's books. Five feet four, reddish hair, brown eyes, long legs. At college, I studied medieval French literature, but kept a sketchbook with me at all times. During the summers, I studied calligraphy, papermaking, and bookbinding, and worked as an apprentice at the Lafayette Press, printers of fine editions. I make a living illustrating children's books, but to please myself I do etchings and ink drawings, which I often present to friends on special occasions -- marriages, anniversaries, birthdays.

On the side, I am a perfect houseguest. I have the temperament for it. Being a designer teaches you the habit of neatness, and an appreciation for a sense of order not your own. Being a houseguest allows you to fantasize with no one crowding you. After all, you are but a guest, an adornment. Your object is to give pleasure to your hosts. Lolling around in other people's houses allows your mind to drift. Inspired by my surroundings, I indulge myself in this lazy, scene-setting kind of thought. For example: a big yellow moon; the kitchen of an old house in an academic community. On the window ledge a jar of homemade jam, a pot of chives, a cutting of grape ivy in a cracked mug. A big dog sleeps in front of the stove. If you open the window, you feel the crisp October air. An apple pie or a loaf of bread is in the oven, and the house is warm with the scent of it. You wonder if it is time to deal with the last pumpkin, or to pickle the, basket of green tomatoes. In the study, your husband is drowsing over an elevating book, a university-press book in blue wrappers. You are wearing a corduroy skirt, a chic blouse, and a sweater of your husband's is tied around your shoulders. You are a woman contemplating seasonal change.

Or you go to the Martins on a rainy night. They occupy two floors of a Victorian brownstone, and as you contemplate the polished moldings and watch the rain through the leaded windows, you feel you are in England in the spring-in a little house in Devizes, say, or Bexhill-on-Sea. Your children have just been put to bed. You have finished reading a book on the life of Joseph Wright of Derby. There is a knock on the door. You start up. Your husband is away, and it is foggy outside. At the door is an old lover, someone who broke your heart, who is in England on business and has tracked you down.

Of course, the fact of the matter is that you live in a flat in New York. Your work is done at an oak drawing table, surrounded by pots of brushes and pens. In other people's houses your perspective widens. You contemplate the Martins' old Spode platter. You know the burn on their dining-room table -- the only flaw in its walnut surface -- is from Paul's cigar, placed there the night before Ben was born. These details feed the imagination.

Oh, domesticity! The wonder of dinner plates and cream pitchers. You know your friends by their ornaments. You want everything. If Mrs. A. has her mama's old jelly mold, you want one, too, and everything that goes with it -- the family, the tradition, the years of having jelly molded in it. We domestic sensualists live in a state of longing, no, matter how comfortable our own places are.

The Lone Pilgrim. Copyright © by Laurie Colwin. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold.

Table of Contents

Foreword xv

Introduction: The Family Dinner in Real Life 1

Why I Love Cookbooks 7

After the Holidays 11

Black Beans 17

Lemons and Limes 22

The Once and Future Dinner Party 27

The Duck Dilemma 32

Boiled Beef 37

How to Make Yogurt 41

The Case of the Mysterious Flatbread 45

Coffee 49

About Biscuits 54

Down-Home Standbys 58

More About Gingerbread 65

A Harried Cook's Guide to Some Fast Food 69

The Beet Goes On 75

Catering on One Dollar a Head 79

Real Food for Tots 83

In Search of Latvian Bread 90

Butter 94

Desserts That Quiver 98

Rented-House Cookery 103

Tomatoes 107

Picnics 112

Waiting for Dessert 117

How to Cook Like an American 122

Jet Lag and How to Feed It 128

The Egg and You 131

Four Easy Pieces 135

American Corn 142

Jam Anxiety 148

Three Chocolate Cakes 153

In Praise of Pears 159

Roast Chicken 163

The Glory of Chutney 168

Halloween 173

Turkey Angst 179

All the Trimmings 183

Condiments 188

Wonderful Lentil Soup 193

How to Face the Holidays 198

Plain Food 204

Index 207

Reading Group Guide

In her two collections of essays on cooking and eating, Laurie Colwin shares not only her skills and knowledge in the kitchen, but her wisdom about how food is a reflection of our lives. With humility and humor, she confides that she was never much for traveling: "My idea of a good time abroad is to visit someone's house and hang out, poking into their cupboards if they will let me." In this age of extreme sports and adventure travel, her honesty is both refreshing and reassuring. Likewise she assures us that fancy ingredients and equipment are not required to make a splendid meal. Her encouragement and certainty that a good cook dwells inside each of us is liberating.

It is easy to imagine what Colwin's home must have been like -- filled with food, books, and people talking about food and books. She knew that reading and eating go together. Whether we are consuming brilliant, original ideas or a pan of gingerbread that brings back childhood memories, books and food evoke our most basic, and best, instincts. They are both meant to be shared.

Questions for Discussion

Colwin says, "It is not just the Great Works of mankind that make a culture. It is the daily things, like what people eat and how they serve it." Discuss how the meals you eat daily or on special occasions reflect your own culture and your own personalities.

Much of what Colwin knows about cooking she has learned from members of her family and friends. Are there any dishes that have been passed on to you which you, in turn, make a habit of passing on to others? What makes these dishes special? How does learning a recipe from a loved one, rather than from a book, enhance the experienceof cooking that dish?

Colwin encourages us all when she says that, "Cooking is like love. You don't have to be particularly beautiful or very glamorous, or even very exciting to fall in love. You just have to be interested in it. It's the same thing with food." As a group, discuss how each of you learned to cook. For those who don't cook, or feel they can't, share what you may have learned about cooking by reading Colwin's thoughts on the subject.

Make a Reading Group Cookbook

Ask each member of your reading group to choose his or her favorite family recipe and probide a short story about the person who first created the recipe or a situation that this particular dish reminds them of. Make enough copies for the group and as you all assemble your cookbook, hold a potluck where each member bring his or her dish and have a taste of history and tradition.

Old-Fashioned Gingerbread from More Home Cooking
This recipe is an all-around hit and combines many of gingerbread's virtues. It is spicy, heartwarming, and cake-like. You do not need to add one thing: no ice cream, no icing, no poached fruit on the side. It is really and truly good by itself.

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F and line the bottom of a buttered 8-inch round tin (2 inches deep) with parchment paper. (Parchment paper has come to have great importance in my kitchen, and it is my opinion that the person who invented it should get a Nobel Prize.)

Melt 1/2 cup cane syrup or black treacle with 6 tablespoons butter.

Beat 1 egg with 4 tablespoons buttermilk.
Sift together 2 cups flour, 1 teaspoon baking soda, 2 heaping teaspoons ground ginger, 1 teaspoon cinnamon, 1/3 cup firmly packed brown sugar, and a pinch of salt. Mix in 3/4 cup dried currants or raisins.

Add the egg mixture, then add the syrup mixture, and mix well.

Bake 10 minutes in the 375-degree oven, turn the heat down to 325 degrees, and bake 35 to 40 minutes more. A few crumbs stick to a tester when the cake is done.

Editorial Reviews

Colwin's writing is down-to-earth and friendly, as though she is presenting little morsels she has prepared just for you. There are no frills or tricks. Like a classic dish, her writing's magic in its simplicity.

Charlotte Observer

Filled with essays about food, family, and life...Her writing is a treat...It's a joy to read—the kind of work that makes you want to get cooking yourself.

Boston Phoenix

We all need a best friend when we are at home cooking; this is the next best thing.

Seattle Weekly

"Colwin's humor calms you down. It's a treat to read her classic cookbook-memoirs." — Wall Street Journal

“Colwin’s food writing is built on a commitment to good, simple food, cooked very well; what she describes in one of her novels as a sort of domestic sensuality.” — Vox

“Every home cook should have Laurie Colwin’s Home Cooking and More Home Cooking on hand for brief moments of culinary self-doubt or personal inertia. . . . [Colwin’s] work embodies the home cook’s generosity of spirit—making do, improvising, exhibiting grace under pressure. Naturally, there are also recipes, all of which are unfussy enough to tackle at 7 P.M. on a Tuesday and delicious enough to remind even the most experienced home cook of the beauty of simplicity.” — Jezebel

"Even as someone who doesn’t love to cook, the book was a joy for me to read." — Book Riot

“The first time I read Laurie Colwin I knew I’d found the friend I’d always wanted to join me in the kitchen. Warm, funny and unpretentious, she made me laugh and made me want to cook. Her recipes were easy and delicious. All these years later, when I’m feeling sad, or wondering what to cook, I turn to Laurie Colwin. And she never lets me down.” — Ruth Reichl, author of Delicious!

“Laurie Colwin teaches us how to cook, eat, deal with disasters, write and live. We turn to her books for a kind of comfort and sustenance that only she can provide.” — Emily Gould, author of Friendship and Perfect Tunes

“Filled with essays about food, family, and life. . . . Her writing is a treat. . . .It’s a joy to read—the kind of work that makes you want to get cooking yourself.” — Boston Phoenix

“We all need a best friend when we are at home cooking; this is the next best thing.” — Seattle Weekly

“Colwin’s writing is down-to-earth and friendly, as though she is presenting little morsels she has prepared just for you. There are no frills or tricks. Like a classic dish, her writing’s magic in its simplicity.” — Charlotte Observer

From the Publisher

Colwin’s humor calms you down. It’s a treat to read her classic cookbook-memoirs.”

Wall Street Journal

Even as someone who doesn’t love to cook, the book was a joy for me to read.”

BookRiot

[Colwin’s] work embodies the home cook’s generosity of spirit—making do, improvising, exhibiting grace under pressure…to remind even the most experienced home cook of the beauty of simplicity.”

Jezebel

Laurie Colwin teaches us how to cook, eat, deal with disasters, write and live. We turn to her books for a kind of comfort and sustenance that only she can provide.

Emily Gould

Colwin’s writing is down-to-earth and friendly, as though she is presenting little morsels she has prepared just for you. There are no frills or tricks. Like a classic dish, her writing’s magic in its simplicity.

Charlotte Observer

Colwin’s food writing is built on a commitment to good, simple food, cooked very well; what she describes in one of her novels as a sort of domestic sensuality.

Vox

The first time I read Laurie Colwin I knew I’d found the friend I’d always wanted to join me in the kitchen. Warm, funny and unpretentious, she made me laugh and made me want to cook. Her recipes were easy and delicious. All these years later, when I’m feeling sad, or wondering what to cook, I turn to Laurie Colwin. And she never lets me down.

Ruth Reichl

"Even as someone who doesn’t love to cook, the book was a joy for me to read."

Book Riot