Among the converging deadlines I mentioned in my last post was that of preparing for and executing a family vacation to Wisconsin. Part of the time was spent in a small rented cottage which, although comfortable, boasted the most comprehensive collection of broken and/or incomplete kitchen tools I have ever seen. The second portion of the trip was spent in a tent, looking at more airplanes in more varieties than I thought possible.

The planes were fine, even to an aviation non-enthusiast such as myself, and we found out that even the screaming engines and full afterburners needed for a B-1 Lancer's sixty degree climb almost directly overhead were not enough to wake Entropy Girl from her daily very-late naps. The tent was not fine and probably the less said about it the better. I did mention to Brainiac that he had hit the trifecta of things you don't want when trying to convince the wife that camping is fun: a night of cold, a night of wind and a night of electrical storms.

Now that we're home and I am caught up on the laundry, I thought I'd get back to the topic of cooking and how we're to manage it if we have or want to have, like, a life and stuff. The truth is, I don't know. That is, I know how to manage it for me but not for anyone else. I do know, though, that the only way to figure it out is to get in there and do some cooking.

I became frustrated on our trip after meeting a woman who bragged that she "never, ever cooks". I thought her comment hyperbole until questioning revealed that her kids serve themselves from bags of fruit (fine enough, I guess), bread and peanut butter (um, o.k.) and pre-packaged "complete" lunches (I'm feeling faint) stashed in the fridge. The cupboards contain a variety of commercial snacks and that's that. The kids eat when the kids are hungry out of hand or off paper plates and their mom is pretty pleased that she's found a way to feed them with no effort or engagement whatsoever. I suppose this is, in fact, one way to deal with the issue athough I do kind of feel bad for the kids. They're missing out on so much - the communion of the dinner table, learning the life skills of even basic cooking and food selection, experiencing the lessons in civility that come from standing next to adults and assisting in the preparation and serving of a meal (setting the table is an excellent contribution to the family meal and can be accomplished by kids as young as three) and even the simple enjoyment that comes from learning to appreciate a variety of foods in a variety of preparations. While it's true that their bodies are being fed, is it too cheesy to wonder if their minds, souls and hearts are, too?

But I think that family is an extreme case. Most of us fall somewhere else on the family cooking bell curve and really just need a few simple ideas to make it easier to bring young ones into the kitchen and have everyone make it out again sooner rather than later and with something really yummy to eat (and not too much mess).

For my part, I've discovered that couscous, orzo and pastina are my quick-cooking friends and that there's no way to overestimate the convenience of having pizza dough on hand (notice I did not say pizza crust - my recipe for dough follows and it's insanely easy). I'll also stir fry virtually anything and now regard the exploration of all manner of quiches - both the authentic and faux - as a spiritual path. Then, of course, there are soups and stews and pastas and more kinds of pierogie/empanada/ravili things than I can count.

In other words, fast and easy don't automatically mean junk any more than complicated means good. (As evidence I offer Insalata Capese vs. tete de veau.) Of course, there are lots of hard to make things that are wonderful, and many more dishes that require a score (or more) of ingredients and three days and could break your heart with their awesomeness but these are not what we're talking about here. What we want are some basic dishes that can be varied by season or mood and that are fast and delicious and, above all, real and without unpronounceable contents and packaging that weighs more than the "food" itself.

But how to get started? That's for another post, one full of cookbook recommendations and other suggestions. For now, here's how I make pizza dough. I try to keep at least one pizza's worth in the freezer at all times, because it thaws quickly in the fridge or in panic mode in a bowl of warm water. Like most good things, there are no hard and fast rules:

Put a packet or two teaspoons of yeast along with a pinch of white sugar in a two-cup measure, and fill to two-cups with water that is quite warm, but not hot. Allow to sit for 10-15 minutes so that the yeast comes alive and becomes foamy. In a large bowl, mix together four cups of flour (this can be unbleached white or whole wheat, or a combination of both - I've also added in a bit of chick pea flour with good results) and a teaspoon of table salt. Make a well in the center of the flour and pour in about a quarter cup of the yeast mixture. Stir with a wooden spoon, adding more yeast/water as needed until a dough forms and begins to pull away from the sides of the bowl. Turn the dough out onto a floured surface and knead until it is smooth and pliable. Now allow the dough to rest for ten minutes. Divide as desired into however much you need to make pizzas as big as you want and place into freezer bags. Press down to flatten the dough and remove air from the bags.