Bittman-certified recipes, reported pieces about the politics of food; and rants about what’s broken in the food world (there’s a lot) and how to change things for the better. As our motto says, “Food Is Everything,” and we want to bring you every aspect of it.
Chances are, you’ll enjoy yourself more if you let it go
ERIKA HOULE
Shaved Cauliflower and Celery Slaw. All photos: Sam Muller
In the same way that weather relentlessly dominates small talk, preoccupations with temperature are inherent to my existence. During culinary school and ever since graduating, my life has felt like one big blur of ice baths, leave-in probes, and searing torch attachments; not to mention dehydrator racks, slow-simmering pots, and walk-in refrigerators with wildly effective fans. Sometimes, when tasks like monitoring the broiler or keeping carefully-constructed desserts from melting seemed more like crises, I fantasize about how nice it would be not to think about them at all.
At home, where our thermostat typically reads around 74° F—slightly above suggested room temps for sleeping babies, and not by mistake—I’ve been thinking more about food that comes together at a rate that matches the given mood or moment. In an attempt to protect a sense of peace in the kitchen—less pressure, more pleasure—what I’ve found most appealing are meals with no fuss around the degree range at which they’re consumed. Things that can be done ahead while still existing as an expression of care and attention to detail. Things that can be stored in the fridge and eventually served at your own preferred room temperature—slowly, or suddenly and all at once—for everyone to pick at as they please. Things that in some way feel fancy and special, but also read the room.
Of course, in terms of health and safety, food temperature danger zones are not places I ever want anyone I care about to be in close proximity to. What I’m focusing on instead is taking advantage of an hour-long-ish window, with room to unwind over a phone call, take a shower while listening to a juicy podcast, or greet guests without immediately rushing back to the oven to check on the status of something pressing. Think: snacking on potato chips under a favorite blanket; making a dent in a frying pan full of frittata that tastes like pizza; indulging in all the flavors of an orange creamsicle, without having to reach into your freezer. The following recipes can be adjusted, prepared, and enjoyed almost entirely in advance and as you see fit, so long as they are not too hot, and definitely not too cold.
Every now and then, my sister will send me a photo of an individual chip without saying anything, because we both know it’s our idea of “the perfect chip”—evenly and heavily coated with whatever seasoning the store-bought bag promises. It’s a shared moment of celebration even when we’re apart, and I wish there were more. This recipe is my way of encouraging you to make every chip the perfect chip (whatever that looks like to you), and then do what’s meant to be done: dunk them in dip. Both the chips and dip can be made ahead and enjoyed at room temperature when the time feels right.
Bittman-certified recipes, reported pieces about the politics of food; and rants about what’s broken in the food world (there’s a lot) and how to change things for the better. As our motto says, “Food Is Everything,” and we want to bring you every aspect of it.
