Crocker Cookbooks
Tips for cooking a great meal by Robert Dolheguy
When it comes to eating healthier and saving money on food, we’ve established time and time again that few strategies are more effective than cooking at home. Making meals in Your Own kitchen gives you total control over nutrition, flavor, ingredient quality, and expenditures, among other things. Plus, making a mess with flour is fun.
Still, for many, home cooking is nigh inconceivable. Maybe you work 80 hours a week, and can’t find 20 minutes to make a sandwich. Maybe you live in New York’s East Village, where your apartment galley doubles as your bathroom and your bedroom. Maybe you never learned to cook, and are afraid of blowing $10 on a chicken, then charring it beyond recognition.
Fortunately, First, we isolated a handful factors that most affect peoples’ ability to fire up their own stoves. They are: time, space (in the capacity sense, not the extraterrestrial sense), inexperience, fear of failure, and The Damn Dishes. More than anything else, these five elements drive the average folk to takeout, restaurants, and pilfering fruit from sweet old ladies.
Then, drawing from extensive research and our own experiences, we brainstormed tips and tricks to combat these hindrances. Without further ado, here’s everything.
TIME
The problem, defined: Since it’s a thrice-daily activity, cooking can be a total time suck. And if you have children, a demanding job, or stuff to do, it’s difficult blocking an hour or two per day for food prep. Consider this: in the 1950s, Americans (read: women) spent about 20 hours a week in the kitchen. Today, it’s less than six.
The solution, explained: Prioritizing cooking isn’t a full-throttle, 0-to-60 overnight deal. It’s a habit developed gradually, and you have to give yourself some leeway. So, start small. Eat breakfast at home everyday for a week, or take 20 minutes to make a basic, from-scratch meal. Try bringing lunch to work. Force yourself to sit down, at your table, and drink a full cup of coffee. Eat in Your Kitchen instead of in front of your television. Find three or four Easy Recipes, and cook all your food for the week on a Sunday. Enlist help from the kids/husband/erstwhile in-laws. Again: take baby steps, and don’t forget to give yourself a break. With a few months and constant reinforcement, that hour-a-day will start to come naturally.
SPACE
The problem, defined: Your place has exactly enough room for you, your roommate from Albania, and the dust bunnies you’re raising together as common law spouses. There’s no Room for a box of cereal, never mind a 12-piece set of Calphalon.
explained: You’re already starting small, so that advice is out the window (if, in fact, you have a window). Instead, think big. Where else can you put food, besides your refrigerator and/or cabinet(s)? Is there room under your bed? On top of the microwave? Under the table? Can you install shelving over doorways? Are there Lazy Susans or mini-shelving you can cram under your sink? Check Apartment Therapy’s Smallest Coolest contest for creative ideas, and always remember: IKEA is your friend. INEXPERIENCE
The problem, defined: When it comes to cooking, there are fetuses with more wherewithal. At least they know what to do with leftovers.
The solution, explained: Remember: everybody has to start somewhere. If you don’t know a scallop from a shallot, that’s fine. No one’s evaluating you. Don’t be afraid to experiment and play, and know that you’ll foul up on occasion, sometimes monumentally. Picking up a simple cookbook always helps (suggestions: any Betty Crocker tome, How to Cook Everything by Mark Bittman, How to Boil Water by Food Network), as do basic recipe sites (AllRecipes, Food Blog Search, etc.), beginners’ TV shows (Everyday Italian, etc.) and fun magazines (Everyday Food, etc.). If you know a good cook, take some time to watch them work. Because if he/she can do it, so can you.
FEAR OF FAILURE
The problem, defined: You buy the finest ingredients. You have all the cooking equipment you possibly need. You’ve watched hour after hour of Julia Child spatchcocking
