Kitchen Nostalgia

Kitchen Nostalgia

Megan McArdle has posted a piece on changes in food technology over the last century or so, which has sparked a lively discussion in her comments thread. Commenters obviously hail from all points on the spectrum, from people who can remember their grandparents' ways with cooking stoves and food they raised themselves, to others who rely mostly on restaurants and microwaves and don't see what the fuss is about.

Because of my persistent flirtation with TEOTWAWKI thinking, and our hobby of fiddling around with old-fashioned food preservation techniques like canning and pickle-brining and home-raised ingredients, I find this subject endlessly fascinating. I particularly enjoy reading about people's assumptions regarding the only feasible sources of some kinds of food. It reminds me of my trip to the grocery store a few years ago. I was checking out with some strawberries and some heavy cream. The young checker, chatting me up, asked what I was going to do with the cream, and I explained that I would whip it to go with the strawberries. She was enchanted. It had never occurred to her that you could create whipping cream at home.

We've never lived in a primitive cabin, but we often used to go on brief camping trips in kayaks, where it was impossible to bring much in the way of ice or cooking gear or even potable water, so we learned some tricks of primitive cooking. If need were, we could cook quite well in a fireplace. We also like to learn ways to make things at home, against the day when we might not be able to get supplies, and just because it's fun.

It takes a lot of time, of course. You'd better enjoy doing it, or it never will be worth the trouble. What's more, there's no denying that some modern conveniences eliminate drudgery that no one wants to return to. One commenter, for instance, cracked me up by asking innocently whether anyone had ever personally waxed a floor. It's true that some years back we replaced the linoleum with a hard tile, never again to face the unappealing job of stripping and waxing a kitchen floor, but -- hey -- it hasn't been that long ago. These days, if I were building a new house and couldn't fit tile floors into the budget, I'd be installing a concrete floor sloped toward a center drain: something you could get clean with a garden hose. No more floor wax for this 21st century gal.