Contributor is exactly Rebecca Kesler
2021-06-06Our first pandemic thanksgiving
2020-10-12There are two things that have marked this pandemic for me: sound and smell. He sounds of slammed doors from a very bored, angry, unsure ten-year-old boy and the smell of my late-night cooking. As a 10-year-old, he felt set adrift, when schools closed, and he couldn’t go play with his friends and they couldn’t come here. How do you explain the concept of pandemic to a kid without scaring the crap out of them? Because he was slamming the door to his room almost anytime he was spoken to, the dogs, of course, had something to say about it, because, well, they’re dogs. So, most of the day, there was slamming doors, constant barking, yelling (him), more yelling (me), crying (mostly me) and just really wanting some peace. So, I began to cook. Stock, one of the first things I learned in culinary school. Tomato sauce. Pasta. Cookies. Bread, and no, I didn’t get on the sour dough band wagon. And I would do this late at night. When it was quite and cool. Filling the house with the rich smells of food. Meals that have been frozen, stock that has been frozen or canned, cookie dough stashed away to make cookies later. I could think while I cooked. It was and is, my de-stressor. The picture is of one of my creations – “Ravioli Lasagna” – basically, using fresh ravioli (this is ricotta and spinach) as your lasagna “noodle”, layered with marinara, mozzarella and sweet Italian sausage.