It's good to have fun, but it's good to know what you know

and what you don't. About five years ago, I made a decision to focus what I do in the kitchen on "things mediterranean." This is an elusive concept these days, as we argue, sometimes heatedly, about what is and is not authentically mediterranean. Add in "California Mediterranean," or "New York mediterranean," for example, and you have all kinds of arguments over "what is it?" I must admit that while at the same time I am very much a proponent of sticking to the classics: if they were done this way for 500 years, why are we changing them now? I guess that's a manifestation of "if it ain't broke, don't fix it." On the other hand, I also confess that I am not immune to changes taht make my cooking easier, and in some cases, at least tastier to me.

A good example of this is the chicken with forty cloves of garlic that I wrote about previously. The classic dish shoves the forty cloves under the chicken skin. Perhaps chickens were bigger, or garlic was smaller or the cooks had more patience and more care than I do, but making that dish that way drives me nuts. So the idea from Anne Rosenzweig and her crew at Inside to do it as pieces, was too appealing to resist. And that's how I do it. Traditional? Well, sort of (I don't mess with the basic ingredients). Classic? No. But it's easier for people to enjoy, too. If I know that it's a big crowd, I will use thighs, or legs, so that it's easier to eat standing up. Who wants to face a crowd and have to cut a piece of chicken breast from a whole bird? Not me.

So this is all by introduction to another idea that pervades my kitchen: I can't do it all. I'm really competent at this style of cooking. On the other hand, my Indian cooking is laughable. So is my Chinese cooking. Let's not go near Japanese cooking. I can turn out pretty good Mexican food, but I think of the poor folks I know who spend all day making lasagna (although I AM told that proper Mexican food IS time consuming). I yearn to try to do southern cooking, but I have been told - with good reason - that my fried chicken doesn't even come close, my biscuits are heavy and dull (also a fair criticism), and that I just don't "get it." Fair enough.

These thoughts are inspired by a dinner Guy and I had last night with our friends Dave and Peter, who have made several appearances in this blog. At the risk of sounding politically incorrect, Dave and I referred to the dinner as "an evening of Jew food," because it's food he grew up with, and he does it well. OH MY does he do it well. We had matzoh ball soup in homemade chicken stock , potato pancakes with sour cream and apple sauce, slow cooked brisket, tzimmes and broccoli.

Now, going through that meal, I have some experience with some of the items. As I've said, I'm never making homemade stock again. Dave has a touch for it, and he should do it always - and make me extra. I have made matzoh balls. I'm laughing as I recall them. You could have bowled with them. Dave's are like clouds.

Potato pancakes? Hmmmm. I make good ones. Are they as good as Dave's? I won't go there. Dave's are very good. So are mine. But they're different. And I'm smiling some more because Dave kept the most cooked one for himself. I do the same thing.

Brisket. Oh, do I love brisket. And oh, do I do a TERRIBLE job with it. So did Nana. Her corned beef and brisket were really not her finest moments. So if I have someone around like Dave, who will make slow cooked brisket for me every once in a while, I'll give that one up.

Tzimmes: that wonderful mix of dried fruit and sweeter vegetables. It's a classic for vegetarians, who seem to make it with everything in every possible combination. I haven't made it for years. Oh, am I gonna go out on a limb here (but I can, cause Dave hasn't gotten to the blog yet): Dave , yours is good, but mine is better. THERE I said it. I may live to regret it. I enjoyed every bite of it and cleaned my plate. But mine is better. There are few good versions of tzimmes out there, so try to find someone who does it well, and cultivate them. Especially if you are a vegetarian.

The overriding theme here, is that there is so much good cooking out there, so many wonderful recipes, that at some point, you will find yourself gravitating to some over others. And you should stick with them. Don't be afraid to venture out of your "domain," because what fun is it for you, if you cook the same things, over and over and over again (case in point: If I EVER make a tiramisu for a party again, I will shoot myself)? But have a harbor. Have a place you can go back to, so that when you need something secure, something that people can associate you with, whether it's meatloaf, Japanese tonkatsu, brisket, southern fried chicken, brownies, or whatever, you have it. And if you share it, you WILL be known for it. And if you get to know other cooks, who have their own specialties, well, don't you see the most amazing potluck in the world coming at ya?