Frequent readers of the blog already know about my obsession with Tamar Adler and her book. An Everlasting Meal is not a cookbook exactly; it’s more a string of philosophies about how to treat food. Now take whatever you’re imagining and make it not pretentious or insufferable, and you’ll pretty much have it. Anyway, I was so in the thrall of this book that I decided to try to be Tamar for a few days (we’re on a first name basis, obviously), focusing mostly on her chapter on vegetables, “How to Stride Ahead.” Here are the results:

Attempt 1: The Agony and the Ecstasy of Vegetable Retrieval
Tamar is a big proponent of buying a ton of vegetables on one day of the week and cooking them all at once. That way, you’re already a step ahead for the rest of the week’s cooking. This sounded lovely and elegant, and since we had a big ol’ shipment of CSA vegetables coming one Saturday, I thought I had this locked down.

Our winter CSA is a little different than the regular season. Instead of picking it up every week, you get a gigantic box of stored vegetables and fruit once a month. It’s great, except that Jason and I have somehow messed it up every single time: we’re out of town or we’re busy, and we have to impose upon friends and neighbors and bribe them with vegetables to make it happen. This time, though, we were ready. We went to visit some friends and their new baby, not too far from our place, with plans to pick up the box on the way home. But then the baby was supernaturally cute, and we were running late. And then, even though we’ve both lived in NYC for too long, we managed to get lost on the walk to the subway. And then the next train was delayed. And then Jason ran up the stairs to get in a cab and rescue the vegetables, but since I wasn’t sure if he would be successful, I stayed on the train and sprinted a dozen blocks in snow boots to try to get them, too. But there he was, vegetables saved in the nick of time.

I was so exhausted after this debacle that I decided not to cook the vegetables that day, and instead got drunk and ate nachos at 11 p.m. Jason says we should get a high score for effort, but I know the truth.
Tamar Score: 2 out of a possible 10

Attempt 2: No Sandwich is a Bad Sandwich
Since I hadn’t actually cooked any vegetables like I was supposed to and I was at a dance class until late the next evening, I decided to pitch myself a fat slow ball and make sandwiches for dinner. Tamar writes about a sandwich she had in Italy: basically just greens cooked with lots of garlic and olive oil and some cheese. So I sautéed up some of the spinach from the CSA, and threw it on a baguette with some soft cheese, and added some chopped olives and pickled fava beans because I’m creative like that and toasted the whole thing in the oven.

The results were delicious. Jason actually said, “I’m feeling sad because I’m almost at the end of this sandwich.” But really, wasn’t I playing to my strengths here? It was only a few weeks ago that one of my coworkers called me a sandwich magician (hands-down one of the best compliments I’ve ever received). I wasn’t being Tamar, just Shannon, and for that I had to dock myself a couple points.
Tamar Score: 8

Don’t worry, though; I had ambitious plans yet to execute, and you can read all about them later this week in Part II.