Gaining a Taste Of America And Learning About Ourselves

The Big Duck. That was the high point of the ride for me and my sister. It signaled the last chunk of an unbearably long drive from Manhattan to a fragile tip of Long Island in a pale green, wood-sided Pontiac station wagon.

   That huge cement duck, built in 1937 near Riverhead, still stands, a giant thing: 30 feet in length and 20 feet to the top of its white Pekin duck head.

   Inside the duck, a fellow named Martin Maurer housed his business, selling duck and duck eggs. And to this day, Maurer’s folly holds a solid place in zany American commercial architecture and is listed as one of the “seven wonders of Long Island.â€�    

    It is also featured in Molly O’Neill’s latest cookbook, “One Big Table.â€� She writes about the Big Duck, seeing this comical creature as part of our culinary story, reflecting a time when there was a duck in every pot. And then when there was not. And why.

   She looks at the food we make, the food we don’t make, and pulls together ideas about our history, our customs, our appetites, our style, our ways.

   So “One Big Table,â€� is subtitled “A Portrait of American Cooking.â€�

   Of course it’s a portrait of us, too.

   O’Neill — writer, restaurant reviewer and chef — will be signing copies of this 864-page behemoth at a cookie swap, yep, cookie swap, at Oblong Books in Millerton, Dec. 4. Details in a moment.

   But first the book.

   It weighs 5 pounds, 4 ounces, and it’s chock-full of recipes like Amy’s Kilt (for killed) Lettuce, combining greens and hot bacon fat; Sumi Salad mixing raw ramen noodles, cabbage, sugar and vinegar; a recipe for rooster stew that takes three hours to cook and requires one gallon of broth; a turkey stuffing of crackers and cornflakes; Turkey Mapo Doufu, a pale version of the fierce western Chinese classic made, usually, with pork and, always, Sichuan peppercorns; Rabbit With Brown Gravy and Onions; Hawaiian Kalua Pork; Green Tomato Pie; Thomas Jefferson’s recipe for vanilla ice cream; and the book winds up with a recipe from Scappoose, in Oregon, for chocolate-sauerkraut cupcakes.     

   The book is heavier by 2 pounds than Julia Child’s  “Mastering the Art of French Cooking.â€� Heavier than all kinds of heavy cookbooks around.

   But it’s not necessarily weightier. It’s like the Big Duck. Fascinating. Awesome. Revealing. And odd, at least as a source for recipes. But collecting recipes here does not seem to be the point. This book collects stories about people and places and food.

    All this started in the 1990s, O’Neill writes in the preface, when food pros were wringing their hands over the end of American home cooking. Urbanites were eating prepared food, takeout food, restaurant food. They were buying stainless steel stoves, and refrigerators with glass doors and following Mario Batali on the Food Network. But they were not eating home-cooked food.

   So O’Neill set out to find “true American cooking.â€�

   She located people who guided her “into corners of the nation where cooking is still something that pulls people together.â€�

   And what did she find? Traveling more than 300,000 miles, she found that Americans “can and do cook. Some cook badly, some cook well, all cook to say who they are and where they come from.â€�

   And that is what this book is about.

   O’Neill collected 10,000 recipes, tested a third of them and narrowed the collection to about 600.

   Which brings me back to those sweet summers, decades ago, the Big Duck, and eating fish we scooped thrashing from an ocean-swamped pond, fried up by a woman from Czechoslovakia, who cooked savory corn bread and added peanuts, paprika and raisins to her cole slaw, combining her cooking lives in Prague and Biloxi and East Hampton.

   Which is what happens here. We combine our pasts and our present at the table, O’Neill is telling us. We cook what we have lived.

   Oblong Books in Millerton, NY, is hosting a cookie swap with Molly O’Neill this Saturday, Dec. 4 at 4 p.m. Bring a plateful of cookies with the recipe and meet O’Neill who will be signing copies of “One Big Table: A Portrait of American Cooking.â€�

   For information, call Oblong Books at 518-789-3797.

  

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