Food

I'm kind of a fan of cooking shows.
(This is saying something because I despise television)
But not just any cooking shows.  Watching a cooking show must be like watching Barcelona or Udinese play futbal: easy, rhythmic, exciting but not in that I've-had-12-espressos-on-an-empty-stomach kind of exciting.  I don't want to have to pop a nitro tab afterward.
I want to relax and enjoy the experience, to forget that it takes huge amounts of talent to perform the feats I see displayed on the screen before me.  I want to be made to believe that I, too, can weave through all of Real Madrid's defenders, past Casillas, and score.  

Once I tried playing soccer.  It looked like I was having a seizure.  Its pretty similar when I'm in the kitchen.  But I'm okay with being horrible at soccer because its not, after all, necessary for life (so we tell ourselves as the end of the season approaches) but being inept in the kitchen is most unfortunate.

Oh, sure I know how to grow food and I certainly know how to go to the grocery store and buy it, but to put all of the raw ingredients together in the form of something tasty, savory, even something half-way edible, alas, no.

By way of consolation some of my friends have offered such comments as "Don't worry, you have other talents". Thanks everyone but last time I looked at Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs, food was right there after oxygen so I'm not sure just how I'm compensating with anything at all relevant.  (One suspects empty platitudes)

Fortunately for me and my family, Mihai can cook and does so with great skill.
Unfortunately, Mihai has a day job which often renders him otherwise occupied.
When we are in Santa Cruz this is not a problem since there is this place called Tacos Moreno.
Unfortunately there is no Tacos Moreno in Obedin.  Or even in Craiova.  And I'm guessing I can pretty much rule out all of Romania as well.  Restaurants in Romania are largely just places you go to when you are on the road and you run out of the food you brought with you but you've got 6 hours left to drive.
Here its home cooking or bust.

Fortunately my mother-in-law can cook and is not often otherwise occupied.
Her food is nothing short of fantastic and I'm not just saying that to flatter her so that she will continue to cook for me because after all, she doesn't read English and she has no idea this blog even exists or that I might be telling you all about her.  (And, knowing Pia, she would not care one way or the other).
No, its genuinely delicious and I find that this is the case most every where I go: Marius' mother=delicious, Simona=delicious, our friends in Brasov=delicious.
I don't mean the kind of delicious you say to someone when you are at their table and you simply want to be polite. I mean the kind of delicious where you wish you were a cow so you could have six stomachs to fill.

Its not that there aren't fantastic home cooks in the States.  Sure there are, I know a good many of them; I've lived with some (I'm talking to you, Alma).

But what is so particularly awe-inspiring is that the meals here are prepared under some of the most inconvenient if not adverse circumstances.  (No, not like that crazy show where the guy is dropped in the middle of the frozen tundra and has to prepare a banquet for the heads of GE).

I mean here they cook what they do with nothing more than two dented pots, a wooden spoon and knives that haven't been sharpened since 1963.  No blenders, juicers, mixers, reamers or rasps, no recipe books, no measuring cups or spoons, no Good Grips potato peeler or garlic press.  And still they turn out meals that blow your mind.  Its true that Pia now has a kitchen that is bigger than my bedroom back in the States but it wasn't always so.  She used to cook in this:

and did I mention that she now does this one-handed?  (post chemo nerve damage has rendered her left arm largely useless).

In the case of Marius' mother, she cooked a four-course meal for over 20 people out of her broom-closet sized kitchen with a prep space that measures about a meter square.  As I recall, the temperature neared 100 degrees that day and after the meal was over every bowl and plate had been licked clean.

In the case of Simona, she manages with nothing more than a partially functioning stove and an outside sink at the house at Vaideeni.  Still by some miracle she produces some of the best food I have ever eaten.  In fact, much of the food pictured in this blog thus far was produced in the Vaideeni kitchen.

Romania has no clearly defined nor internationally renowned cuisine like French or Chinese.  It's mostly just taking whatever ingredients are on hand and making the best of them.
There are certain staples such as eggs, bread, cabbage, bell peppers.  Fresh from the garden in summer, pickled and brought up from the root cellar during the winter.

Probably the most specific dish is Ciorbă.  A kind of soup with a thin, sour broth, made with whatever is on hand including nettles in the spring.  Yes, nettles.  It's fantastic.

Its with regret that I inform you that we have no food stylist here.  I find that my photography skills are just not up to the task of making a bowl of soup look exciting or, frankly, even the least bit appetizing.  But it is, I promise you. I just can't get it to translate for the camera.

There is a drink made from the flowers of the elderberry tree.  Here its called soc.  While the flowers are drying they smell alarmingly similar to the sweaty armpits of a 12-year-old boy which I have been smelling a lot of these days since the weather is becoming increasingly warm.  Not to fear, however, because in an unexpected but pleasant turn of events, when these flowers are added to simple syrup, the combination produces the most lovely juice; it is delightfully fragrant and refreshing over sparkling water.  Ah, the miracle of chemistry!

Similiarly, rose petals are turned into syrup (petale de trandafir) which makes for an interesting drink when combined with sparkling water.  Its not my personal favorite but many Romanians living in the States get very nostalgic for this smell and taste.  The rose petals look so lovely in the bowl that I couldn't resist a photo.

I am in awe of these women.  True, I am in awe of someone who fixes Kraft Mac n' Cheese on the stovetop instead of the microwave but I think you can agree that cooking here involves something extra special.
It carries a lot of what Michael Pollen espouses, a lot of what the locally sourced, locally grown movement is all about.  Cooking with what is seasonal and on hand.  Dare I say cooking with what is natural?  No, let's not go there.