“There are shortcuts to happiness, and dancing is one of them.” — Vicki Baum
Full disclosure: I can’t dance. I don’t know my left from my right, and I have the coordination of a squirrel experiencing an aneurysm. I’m an Irish girl with a stubborn streak, and I refuse to be led around and told where to go and what to do. I failed at the waltz, the fox trot, and whatever Elaine was trying to do on Seinfeld. This quote, though? It validated my feelings that sometimes, shortcuts are OK.
I firmly believe there are a few harmless shortcuts to happiness: A perfectly browned hot dog on a grilled buttery bun? That is happiness, and it’s not hard to accomplish. Kelly’s, on Revere Beach—15 minutes up the road, and happiness awaits. Oh, what’s that you say? It’s quicker on my stove? No, it’s not. As anyone who knows me will attest, I am a culinary disaster looking for a place to happen. Trust me; I can get to Kelly’s and back way faster than I can manage a stove fire and a visit to a burn unit.
When I started asking around about taking shortcuts in the kitchen, oh, the humanity! No, no, no! If you want to do something right, there are no shortcuts. The path to everything is a long road, full of work, strife, and nearly endless amounts of time.
Wanna bet?
Let’s refer back to cooking since feeding ourselves is something we all have to do (unlike dancing). I have several good friends who can cook well. They have an innate sense of flavors that go together. They understand how to use spices, which pan works best for which recipe, and how to make stuff without even having a recipe.
One friend in particular is absolutely all about making things from scratch. There are no shortcuts in her kitchen. It’s a wonder she speaks to me at all since when she takes the time to explain to me how to chop garlic so thin it liquifies in the pan and infuses the extra virgin olive oil with the essence of pure garlic root, I look at her and mimic opening a fresh jar of ready-made “jarlic” that’s already chopped, and makes a satisfying pop when you turn the lid. It’s the same thing with pesto. She’s at her counter, grinding her nuts and bashing the basil while I’m reaching into my cabinet for a container of “jesto,” and before you can smack your lips and make the popping sound, I’ve dumped it on my boxed pasta and called it done.
Is it wrong to take these culinary shortcuts? Does it make me some kind of slacker because I assemble rather than cook? I’ve said it before, but I’m the person who boiled a chicken carcass and vegetables for stock, and then, when straining out the bones and cooked veggies, I poured the stock down the drain, like used pasta water. That is exactly how stupid I am in the kitchen. Is it any wonder I buy chicken broth that is already made?
I set parchment paper on fire because I placed a cookie sheet of baked chocolate chippers on top of a still-hot glass stove. Can you blame me for buying microwavable slices and bakes? How easy is it to boil water? It’s super easy; however, if you add spaghetti to that water, it can catch on fire, at least if I’m cooking it. Yes, I have set fire to noodles in boiling water; I have the pics to prove it. Doing everything from scratch can be problematic for me. Shortcuts, at least in my kitchen, can save lives.
I will always admire my friends who can make homemade salsa like it’s no big deal and season potato salad just the right way. I remain in bewildered awe of people who understand why squeezing an actual lemon is better than a fake plastic lemon. I treasure the time I’ve spent in the kitchens of friends having a “cook night” or those who let me be their sous chef, fetching and carrying the spices, pans, and tools of the trade.
Do I take shortcuts compared to my friends, who do everything from scratch? Yes, I do; however, having people like that as friends, who cook for me, who host me for holidays and parties is a gift beyond measure, so I will continue to take my shortcuts while enjoying the respite I have when friends cook. It’s the best of everything, and I’m beyond grateful for all of it. Oh, and for the record? I often dance in my kitchen because kitchen dancing is fun, even if I don’t know my left from my right.
Brenda Kelley Kim has lived in Marblehead for 50 years, and is an author, freelance writer, and mother of three. Her column appears weekly.
