The Bookless Club talks comfort food
Dark times call for … Ovaltine.
Old-timey malt version Ovaltine. One heaping spoonful into a mug of warm milk is good medicine. And these days, good medicine is worth every penny. If we ever needed comfort food, it’s now.
I find my palate is changing during the pandemic. Coffee is too aggressive, tea is insipid. The escalation of alcohol consumption won’t be traced back to me as I’ve lost my taste for wine. And scotch. If only to offset scurvy, I hold out some hope for margaritas.
What I’m craving now is comfort food. And if I’ve learned anything as a mother and as a wife, you don’t mess with comfort food. Alter the recipe one iota, and comfort food becomes mere food. If the original recipe called for Cheez Whiz, do not try to substitute a robust, Irish, artisanal cheddar.
My comfort food list is pretty low rent. But that’s the thing about comfort food — accessibility! Foie gras will never be a comfort food. Same goes for caviar. Mother of pearl spoons are the antithesis of comfort food.
Homemade soup leads the pack in its ability to console. But sometimes comfort food needs to be dispensed quickly, like aspirin. Top of my list is Campbell’s tomato soup made with half milk and half water. This must be served with crackers. The crackers must be Stoned Wheat Thins and they must be the salted Stoned Wheat Thins. One bowl of the soup calls for three Stoned Wheat Thins, crumbled. There’s a bugaboo about crumbling crackers into soup — oyster crackers, which are essentially crumbled crackers commercially rendered, are for some reason exempt from censure — but to satisfy me there must be crackers, crumbled. Saltines will do in a pinch.
Chicken pot pie can quell rebellions and soothe a savage beast. Homemade chicken pot pie is nice, but for my final meal prior to the gallows, it must be Costco’s chicken pot pie. They have tampered with the recipe lately, so this inclusion is a bit wobbly at the moment. I’ve just purchased a Savary Island Pie Company chicken pot pie and am awaiting a moment of despair to test its restorative qualities.
A tuna melt can reinstate order in a life gone mad. Ketchup is the pièce de résistance in this offering. A squiggle across the top elevates this broiler delight into the realm of time travel. When I eat a tuna melt, I am a preschooler, with no homework, no portfolio, no mortgage — no fears beyond what may or may not be under the bed.
Of course, mom’s home cooking is chockablock with things that will make you feel all’s right with the world. My mom made a sausage stew that I still dream about. Her baking powder biscuits can cure most any malaise. This woman can cook — I was eating Moroccan tagines in elementary school — but her grandkids love her Shake ‘n’ Bake chicken. Go figure.
My own kids ask for tuna casserole, homemade mac and cheese, biscuits with jam (historically offered following sleepovers — later in life, following hangovers). My son loves my banana bread as long as I “don’t wreck it with walnuts.”
Right now, I’m searching for the right combination of food that will somehow balance out the madness in the world. A balm eaten with a spoon, something that will make me believe that we are a well-intentioned species and can solve any problem when we set our minds to it. A slice of toast with salted butter and creamed honey — not liquid honey, please — somehow convinces me that there are better days ahead.
Jane Macdougall is a freelance writer and former National Post columnist who lives in Vancouver. Her garden is her major distraction during COVID-19. She writes on The Bookless Club every Saturday online and in The Vancouver Sun.
THIS WEEK’S QUESTION FOR READERS:
What are your comfort foods during the pandemic?
Send your answers by email text, not an attachment, in 100 words or less, along with your full name to Jane at thebooklessclub@gmail.com. We will print some next week in this space.
RESPONSES TO LAST WEEK’S QUESTION:
What’s the best, and the worst, retail purchase you’ve made in your life?
■ After reading about your sweater, my best bargain jumped to mind: My wedding dress. It was late 1989 with the wedding set for July 28, 1990, when a friend suggested a visit to a Robson Street shop that had beautiful Italian handmade lace dresses for 50 per cent off. We found the perfect dress — a peasant style with lace insets, full 3/4 skirt, peplum cinched waist, lace sleeves with pearls along the seam and around the neck. Exquisite, and $1,100 at half price. Hmmm.
I don’t spend a lot of money on clothes. Yes, this is my wedding, but still. I decided to wait until I got back from a Mexican holiday at Christmas time. If the dress was still there, it would be meant for me. Not only was it there, but it looked even more smashing with my new tan — and it was now 60 per cent off! I bought it for $880 — still the most money I ever have or likely ever will spend on a piece of clothing. But I don’t regret it one bit.
Marilyn Brulhart
■ My best purchase ever is my Philippe Starck Alessi citrus squeezer. It’s not practical. It was ridiculously expensive. It doesn’t work as well as the ordinary hand juicer I use every day. But it makes me happy. It is a piece of art. I only use it to squeeze key limes, which I find very therapeutic.
My worst purchase (and there are many!) was a robotic vacuum cleaner. I just can’t get it to dock and work properly. Instead of buying it, I could have put a down payment on one of the gold-plated Philippe Starck juicers!
Jan Mansfield
■ My favourite find was at the Porte de Vanves Sunday morning market in Paris, 2009. I passed a stall and glanced back to see a long black coat with what looked like a Nehru collar with large €10 tag attached.
It turned out to be a long, black priest’s frock, 44 buttons (some missing), lined with a blue satin finish and metal stays to hold the clerical collar. Wide, cuffed sleeves and warm as ever. It even has a name embroidered on the inside breast. Two small front pockets, apparently to hold a rosary and a couple of coins. Two long vertical rear pockets to hold a Bible and hymnal.
I wear it all fall and winter and I am often stopped on the street with queries about my coat.
The only advice I received from the vendor was, “Enjoy it in Canada. Just don’t wear it here.” Jamie Macey
My best purchase is the $2,000 ■
I spent to buy a configurable bed in the year 2000, a millennial present to myself. Immediately, my multiple body aches, which had plagued me for years, disappeared and have never returned. I don’t know if the Ultramatic Bed company is still in existence, but if they are, I suspect I would never be able to afford their beds now. Just as well that I have a “lifetime warrantee” on the one I did purchase. As far as I can tell, there is just one drawback to my bed: when I travel, I can’t sleep on normal flat beds anymore.
Betty Gray
■ Entering the Bay, my go-to place for fashionable clothes, with my daughter’s upcoming wedding in mind, I spied the perfect outfit — my colours, my style, and classy. Alas, too pricey for me. I’ll drop into the Army and Navy and, unbelievably, there “it” was, the very same outfit for less than half the price. I whooped with joy all the way home.
Bonnie Hamilton