The sad phenomenon of the January supermarket tomato says it all about the blandness of the month . More akin to a damp ball of pink socks than a vegetable , this is a tomato for the desperate , for those driven so mad by memories of tender , tart August ones sprinkled with fresh basil and peppery olive oil that they ’ re deluded enough to purchase it . Nothing but disappointment lies down that path , unless your hobby is gnawing on tough objects with zero flavor . Winter is a good time for hobbies – during one cold January , I knitted a sweater large enough for a Mini Cooper – but do find a more satisfying one .
As for what to look forward to , food-wise , every food magazine and TV show is telling us we need to lose weight .
Sure , let ’ s make the depths of winter feel even more rotten by depriving ourselves of every possible indulgence while wearing enough layers to make us look like quilted penguins no matter what the scale says .
I understand the concept of “ new year – new you ,” and it ’ s a nice idea , but winter is the worst time to diet , for many reasons .
Winter is already a world of sensory deprivation . The sky and trees are similar shades of gray and nothing ’ s blooming . The blazing glitter of the holidays has been packed away , the last rich morsel of Christmas ham is gone and the gingerbread-cookie air freshener has petered out .
Culinarily , the farmer market ’ s summer kaleidoscope of fruits and vegetables , which lure me to be nearly vegetarian while they ’ re around , forming feasts from peppers , zucchini , eggplant and whatever else tempts me , is gone . Now , if the market is even open , I see cords of firewood , stacks of collards and bins of nuts . Collards are a hard sell with my husband , and they ’ re definitely not something I ’ m going to get excited about .
Try to go on a diet now . That ’ ll be fun .
Most people feel the way a colleague put it : “ Come January and February , I just want to stay inside and cook something with aromas filling the house and wrapping me in a warm blanket .”
Smell , taste and sight – food that stimulates the senses . That usually means fat and carbs .
Every chef will tell you that fat is flavor , and that it carries and amplifies the other flavors in dishes . The idea is related to what in my house is called “ thud food .” My husband first used the term one frigid day while explaining his deep need for meatloaf for dinner . It fills up the mouth as you chew and settles comfortably into each corner of the stomach , as if nestling into an old recliner . It has rich flavors – in my meatloaf ’ s case , tomato , chili pepper , garlic and onion , along with the fat of the ground beef . Generally , “ thud food ” doesn ’ t come in liquid form , although vegetable barley soup , fortified with leftover Christmas rib roast pulled from the freezer , is acceptable .
Gumbo also qualifies , since it ’ s packed with andouille sausage and served over rice , which brings us to the carb component of the battle against cabin fever .
Most of us experienced about two years of cabin fever , thanks to Covid , and evidence shows that we were baking our brains out the whole time . There were flour shortages . People posted updates to my neighborhood ’ s Facebook page about which supermarkets had yeast . My husband took three baking classes via Zoom , where he learned to make challah , bialys and deep-dish pizza , and worked diligently , through many tries , to perfect them . I sampled and offered feedback , being the supportive wife I am .
But cabin-fever baking didn ’ t start with the pandemic .
In late January 2020 , my area was hit with one of those 100-year storms , which dumped 20 inches of life-immobilizing snow on my ill-prepared urban area . Among my Facebook friends , the main question wasn ’ t “ Are you OK ?” but “ What are you baking ?” My feed filled with photos of cakes , breads , buns and cookies , and I would ’ ve seen more , but I was busy making multiple loaves of cranberry-orange tea bread .
The scent of yeasty bread or sugar and spices browning in the oven is that warm blanket for the trials of winter that my colleague was looking for . and yeast is a living thing which , as it transforms a mere handful of other ingredients into something far more than its parts , is a reminder that life does go on – deliciously .
Debbie Moose is the author of cookbooks , including “ Deviled Eggs : 50 Recipes from Simple to Sassy ,” “ Buttermilk : A Savor the South Cookbook ,” “ Southern Holidays : A Savor the South Cookbook ,” and “ Carolina Catch : Cooking North Carolina Fish and Shellfish from Mountains to Coast .” She can be reached at debbiemoose . com .
Courtesy photo
JANUARY-FEBRUARY ’ 23 � SOUTH � 23