On a perfectly crisp day during winter break, I was at a fancy craft fair in a backyard in Angelino Heights, a block away from Carroll Avenue (one of those amazing secret treasures of Los Angeles that you really ought to see), with my friends Rachel and Jodi. Rachel turned to us and said one of those things that, in normal circles, would be totally weird, but among us is perfectly normal. Par for the course, actually. All excited, she said, "You guys! We should start a club where we cure things! Like, make sausages, and gravlax, and stuff like that! Wouldn't that be awesome?!" And supportive friends that we are, we totally agreed. Of course it would be awesome.
Jam It, Pickle It, Cure It, the three of us took a few slow-foodish hours, and in the end, were on our way to having created something that felt really substantial. Using recipes in the book, we made two varieties of gravlax: one classic, packed with lots of fresh dill, and the other, with fresh fennel and orange zest.
women who crowd into kitchens together, and have had a good share of girly dinner parties with my own friends, too. There's an efficient, perfect rhythm to women cooking together. The three of us worked so well with each other: sharing tasks, cleaning as we went along. We shared the same space gracefully, all the while gabbing, catching up, laughing a lot.
|oh, hello, Murray|