An Everlasting Meal

Tamar Adler's game changing book on how to cook & how to eat

It’s hard to write about things you really love, especially books or other pieces of written art. I often find myself falling into the tone of whatever it is I’m describing, doing neither the author nor myself justice. That being said, I hope you’ll trust when I say that Tamar Adler’s book An Everlasting Meal changed my life. Not in a dramatic “decided to move to Bali and become a yoga teacher” way (blessedly, I was spared that phase on my yogic journey), but it changed the way I cook and approach food. It changed how I shop, how I store my produce, and what I do with leftover scraps. It truly was a game-changer.

Tamar Adler continues in the tradition of writers such a M. F. K. Fisher, whose seminal work “How to Cook a Wolf” was published in the middle of WWII in 1942. Cooking that’s almost sparse, makes use of everything, is very vegetable-forward, and celebrates the simple. An Everlasting Meal’s tagline, “cooking with economy and grace” is so fitting, and I remember watching a video of Adler back in 2012 where she walks the viewer through her version of food prep. Spending a few hours on a Sunday washing greens, roasting beets, picking parsley. It looked so wholesome, so inviting, looking out for your future self. An activity that one could happily do alone, as well as invite someone to join. I first read her book during an extremely difficult time in my life, and it was the perfect cozy little, steam-filled world to escape into. Perhaps it was around that time that I realized that all those hours I spent thinking about food, preparing food, were a thing. It was worthwhile. I didn’t have to start a food blog or teach myself how to handle a Canon point & shoot; I could simply spend a dark winter afternoon separating pomegranate seeds from their husk, and that could be that, and it would be worth my time.

A few things I started doing after I’d read AEM: after I’ve strip kale leaves from their stems and pick parsley, I’ll make a green jam or pesto-like condiment by throwing all my greens (carrot and radish tops also make a great addition here, thoroughly washed) into a pot with a healthy glug of olive oil, a few cloves of garlic, salt, and lemon juice. Once it seems done, anywhere from 20 minutes to an hour, it’s blitzed with an immersion blender and ready to be spread on bread, used as a dip, or to fry eggs in.

If I have nothing in the fridge except for some vegetables, I’ll roast those in the oven and pile them on top of sourdough that’s been fried in olive oil. Finish it with an egg and call it dinner. In fact, add an egg (boiled or fried) to pretty much anything and call it a meal. Fried potatoes, spaghetti, steamed greens, etc … you get the picture.

I started making my own mayonnaise because of Adler. This recipe from Serious Eats, which uses an immersion blender, has been my go-to for years. I have never once successfully whipped mayonnaise by hand, but this recipe works perfectly every single time. I love to eat the wobbly spread with a bunch of steamed and boiled vegetables (think potatoes, fennel, carrots) and pair them alongside fresh guys (tomatoes, cucumbers), then finish with a side of either anchovies or sardines as well as a few jammy eggs. It’s basically a simple, at-home version of Grand Aioli. A Spanish tortilla also goes great with homemade mayo, although I really need to get myself a tortilla pan so that mine stands a chance of becoming a little more photogenic (hence, no picture of my wonky, broken tortilla from last week).

Adler taught me to “meal prep”, not in the fitness YouTuber sense of the word, as in: preparing five chia seed puddings and chicken breasts with brown rice and broccoli for the week. I do, however, like to set myself up for success and soothe my anxious brain. In order to do that, I often make a medley of things on the weekend. I will always cook down a bunch of greens with olive oil, garlic, and lemon juice, as well as poach two chicken thighs and two wings in salted water. Once poached, I remove the meat and toss the bones, wobbly bits, cartilage, and skin back into the pot to make a stock. I drink the stock throughout the week (with a squeeze of lemon) and use it to cook rice or greens. Recently, I braised two heads of fennel with a ladle of chicken broth, added a splash of vinegar and fresh parsley & dill at the end, and ate it with a slice of toasted sourdough, which I rubbed raw garlic onto. Fennel lusciously melts into the braising liquid, and at the end, you’re left with a very rich-tasting pile of thoroughly cooked vegetables, my absolute favorite. I’ll make a batch of rice, which is supplemented with cubed carrots, mushrooms (shiitake are my favorite because a little goes a long way), and seaweed flakes. I’ll eat the rice with some of the chicken meat, the rest I save for rice bowls during the week, or make a quick chicken salad to put on top of pumpernickel bread (I’m having a deep pumpernickel renaissance, it feels very 90s). Sometimes I’ll use the rice to make a rice bowl with a sardine salad (tinned sardines mixed with yoghurt or skyr, dill, mustard, salt, and lemon juice), but often I’ll reheat it for breakfast, topped with a pat of butter, jammy boiled eggs, and soy sauce. The combination of soy sauce, butter, and hot rice is heavenly.

A few summers ago, I started brewing herbal teas and making big batches to keep in the fridge. When it’s warm, I particularly love iced lemon verbena with lemon balm. I’ve kept up the habit, even though in winter I don’t store the tea in the fridge. Last week, I made a batch of oat straw, nettle, hibiscus, and rose hip tea. This week, it was chamomile, raspberry leaf, and fennel anise seed. Drinking cold or room-temperature herbal tea feels deeply more hydrating than plain old water. Plus, I have to believe that all those herbs are doing a great job at adding minerals and nutrients to my system. And I do love the color of hibiscus.

More Bites

Listen, I’m the last person to start yapping about vegan-substitue-anything. However, when it comes to ice cream, I trust my friend Kavita blindly and when she suggested we go to soi & co. for a post lunch (Backfisch at trio, perfect as per usual) sweet treat, I had zero reason to say no. soi & co. is a small, plant-based café that serves vegan pastries, ice cream, and specialty coffee. They make a lot of their offering with, you guessed it, soy. We had the plain ice cream which is served with a dash of mimi ferments soy sauce and my gosh, what a combination. Salty, tangy, creamy, fermented, it’s everything I want on my plate. They also make fresh tofu, which I’m excited to try next time.