The Standard (St. Catharines)

Sexual assault victim seeks reassuranc­e about raising children

- AMY DICKINSON

With our collective dependence on Google spreading like an oil spill over all life’s endeavours­and language, poetry and intention spans being whittled down to where we can put them on a sticker, there is a fear and a feeling that all books might one day disappear.

In direct contrast to this fear, however, is the fact the cookbook market has never been more booming. Literally thousands of new titles are coming out every year.

But there has been a definite shift to the actual make-up of many of these new books. A glut of ‘food porn,’ more glossy photos than substance; celebrity chef vanity projects that exist simply as salacious coffee table books because they are, by and large, impossible to cook from.

Of course, we mustn’t discredit all the new books. There are a few titles every year that are fantastic additions to our body of knowledge.

Most are very factual reference books or deeper exploratio­ns hitherto unrecorded, such as The Art of Fermentati­on, by Sandor Katz or Charcuteri­e, by Michael Ruhlman and Brian Polcyn. But even these ‘new standards’ lack a certain human depth I think needs to infect all powerful writing.

Just as food evokes memory, its true power beyond simple sustenance, cookbooks hold memories for us too.

Good memories come from good experience­s, and great cookbooks need to be well written in order to stand the test of time, with words well chosen, eloquent, factual and direct.

These great cookbooks will be well travelled, sticky and discoloure­d on the pages most frequently used or further personaliz­ed by handwritte­n notes in the margins: ‘always burns,’ ‘halve the amount of flour,’ ‘Mrs. Devitt’s favourite’ — the best writers of cookbooks bring their full humanity to bear on the subject matter.

It is no surprise to me that many on this list come from a time when words in general were more respected and considered. Elizabeth David, Jane Griggson, Nigel Slater, Marcella Hazan, Alice Waters, Julia Child to name a few.

Their books hold wisdom beyond the stoves. Their humour is encouragin­g.

I will never forget leaving home for university, years before I ever considered cooking as a career, and being handed two cookbooks from our family’s small collection: The Esquire Cookbook, published in the early 1960s, from the hands of my dad and the penultimat­e classic The Joy of Cooking, from my mom, their knowing faces telling me, ‘you will use these.’

As a working chef for the past decades, my closet of cookbooks (food porn as well as classics) teeming, I can honestly say I have visited these two books far more than any others in my collection.

When St. Louis widow Irma Rombauer cashed in her life savings in 1931 to publish The Joy of Cooking, enlisting her daughter, Marion Becker, as illustrato­r she began a legacy that has witnessed nine updates and revisions of the classic.

The New York Public Library has Joy on the list of the 150 most influentia­l books of the 20th century. Hailed by Julia Child as ‘a fundamenta­l resource for any cook,’ the depth and breadth of the book is undeniable — from fixing the perfect Squirrel Pie to no-fool Ambrosia to making a ‘decent’ cup of coffee.

There is something for everyone, but it is the humour (in one recipe she writes to ‘stand facing the stove’) that will see continued further publicatio­n.

Rombauer understand­s the need to explore why we cook as much as how to cook, pairing the conversati­onal tone of the recipes with casual discussion­s of etiquette and hosting. Do yourself a favour and put down your device and read some of these words — your inner cook will thank you. Ross Midgley moved from P.E.I. to Niagara in 1999. Since then he has held the lead position in several of the region’s top kitchens. He is passionate about his family, all things Niagara and good rock ’n’ roll. He can be reached at chefrmidgl­ey1968@gmail.com. ASK AMY

I am 38 years old. I was raped by my father when I was 18. I reported this with the help of a cousin and my aunt.

Instead of having a trial, he pled guilty, probably either to get a lighter sentence or due to the DNA evidence. He served a couple of years. My mother said that it was my fault.

Fast-forward to eight years ago, when I tried to involve him in my life, due to me having children. I wanted them to know their grandfathe­r, but I always had to quash the anger inside of me, to keep the peace. It kept building and building until one day I just snapped. I went onto Facebook, and told the world that he was a rapist. Because I did that, everyone on that side of my family has cut ties with me. One of my aunts even told me that I seduced him.

On top of that, I don’t speak to anyone on my mom’s side, either. I sometimes feel that I am being ungrateful because my parents are alive, when so many don’t have theirs. But at the same time I feel like I am right to feel as I do, because of the things that they have done to me.

Do you think I need to just swallow my emotions for my children’s sake? I don’t want to punish them by not allowing them to know their grandparen­ts. Please help.

— FEELING ALONE IN THE WORLD

You should not swallow your feelings or your anger. You have the right to your anger, and you should try to work through it so your righteous rage doesn’t rule your life.

I completely agree with your choice to cut your rapist and other disrespect­ful and unsupporti­ve family members out of your life.

You deserved so much better than what you got, but your strength in surviving your rape, reporting it and functionin­g through it is something to celebrate.

You are my hero and you will continue to be a hero to your children if you envelop them in love and provide an honest, safe and secure environmen­t in which to grow.

You will grant your children the healthy childhood they deserve to have, which is so different from the one you got. Cutting contact with your parents is not denying your children, but protecting them.

The best gift to them is that they should see a resilient and beautiful survivor when they look at you.

Many people who have survived challengin­g, dysfunctio­nal or criminal families build healthy families by surroundin­g themselves with supportive friends who can provide love and encouragem­ent.

Please get help to continue to heal from your own tragic past. The National Sexual Assault Hotline has an online chat feature; reach out to a counselor today through their website: Rainn.org or by calling (800) 656-HOPE (4673).

 ??  ??

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from Canada