Keepers

You've all heard, and used the expressions "this is a keeper," or "it's a keeper," or, as we objectify, not necessarily in a bad way "s/he's a keeper," right? Well, this is about "keepers," how important they are to me, and how I try to make sure the "keep" me.

The phrase, as I understand it, comes from fishermen. My grandpa was a fisherman, who drove a truck for a living, so I learned very young that "keepers" were the fish that you didn't throw back. "Yeah, Fritz, it's a keeper," one of the other men on the boat would yell when Tati brought in a fluke - his specialty - if it were big enough. It meant you could keep it, withtout breaking the law.

All of us meet, everyday, people who are not "keepers." Even if they are in our lives day in and day out, they are not people whom you would miss if you moved on. And then there are the "keepers, " those people who's absence would make your life a little less complete. And dare I say it, perhaps "KEEPERS," those people whom, when you think about it, you feel "how did I get this far without knowing......." Yeah, those are the real "KEEPERS."

We don't cook for people who are other than KEEPERS. I was thinking about all of this this past weekend, as we had our monthly dinner. Everyone who was invited has enriched our lives in some way, perhaps intangible, but I for one am enriched by knowing these men. I can remember the first meeting I had with each and every one of them. And you know, within seconds, if the person is not a keeper, or a "Keeper." It takes a little longer to know if they're going to move into the all caps category, but for me, there's usually no question. I can usually tell (although not always), who the KEEPERS are , within five minutes. I knew it with each of these guys. And I only hope that I reach the same standard for them.

So when you cook for those people who enrich your lives, what do you do? On one level, the answer is simple: your best. Do you show off for them? I'm not sure that "showing off" is the best way to say what I try to do; rather, I try to take what I know about cooking, and perhaps present a meal that maybe shows a dish to them for the first time, or a dish that they know, in a new light. On that second point, I recall a concert I went to years ago, where Leonard Slatkin was presenting that war horse "Pictures at an Exhibition." BUT. What he had done was to have reviewed the 100 plus different transcriptions of this work, and picked out his favorite parts of each and put them together. Before he played the work through, he told us what he was doing, showing us some examples of different reads of different sections, and he said, before they performed "and if you leave tonight having experienced a familiar work in a new way, then we've done our job."

Well, I don't think about entertaining as a "job," but if I can take ingredients that every one knows, and present them in a way that is entertaining, interesting, tasty, and engaging, then I guess I did my job.

This past Sunday, I tried to do that. And I also did something that I think fits into the whole idea of how a person is supposed to treat their 'KEEPERS', in my opinion.

The original first course for the meal was a whole fish, baked in a salt crust, with braised fennel and blood oranges on the side. Nothing wrong with this, absolutely nothing. It's a wonderful combination. Then.... two days before the dinner, Sandra, another KEEPER, sent me a box, a HUGE box, of artichokes from her family's farm, with the note "these don't look very nice, but they taste great."

Well, as I told Sandra, she clearly had never shopped for artichokes in NY. They looked quite fine to me. And artichokes are not easy to prepare. I've said that before. But how often do you get a chance to eat home cooked artichokes? So, maybe it was a bit of a show off thing, but maybe not. I'm not sure. I'm the worst judge of my own actions, as you are of yours, gentle reader, but I decided to put the fennel and the blood oranges into a salad, and pull out an artichoke recipe.

It was a good one, too. Years ago, at Chez Panisse, I had eaten "Paula Wolfert's artichoke confit with oranges. " I remember loving it. And there were both artichokes, and oranges in the house. Yes, it takes a while to make. In fact ,it is from a cookbook called 'The Slow Mediterranean Kitchen.' Well, to me, just about anything slow cooked is good. And "slow" is a relative term. This is a dish that takes about an hour to make. Much of it is unattended time, but the things you have to do are very tedious. This is not a dish for someone just fooling around in the kitchen, but that's not you are you?

Seriously, the people at the table that night who cook are all passionate cooks. And the ones who don't cook are appreciative eaters. Not that the cooks aren't So, this is for all you boys who were invited on Sunday. Give it a try. If you want, leave out the last step, which I don't think is necessary. But do the rest. You were there, you had it.

To start, you need two lemons, and six, really big, GOOD artichokes. Big is easy. How do you know if they're good? Squeeze them. Do they squeek? They're good. Now, here's where things get tedious. They always do with artichokes. Get a bowl of watear and squeeze half of a lemon into it. Now, start pulling the leaves off of the artichokes. Bend them back until they break, and keep on pulling them off. This is going to take a while, and you're going to hate me. If you're a KEEPER, now you know how much I love you. :) You'll wind up with the core of the artichoke, even if it looks a little unkempt. Now, cut each one in quarters, and then scrape out that choke part. You can be careful, but you won't get all the way through without damaging a few. It's ok. People you love and who love you won't say a word. If you are fortunate enough to have artichokes with long stems, cut off the very base, and peel them with a vegetable peeler, and then get them into the acidulated water. Then, squeeze enough oranges to get half a cup of orange juice. DON'T use the stuff in a box. Squeeze it yourself. And peel three or four garlic cloves, and have your GOOD olive oil at the ready. You'll need about four tablespoons, in a small pot. You're doing a braise, so you don't want it too wide. Put in the oil, add the garlic, turn the heat to medium and when it sizzles, let it cook for two minutes or so. Add your orange juice, and then squeeze in the juice of the remaining one and a half lemons. Keep your face back. It will sizzle. Add about a heavy teaspoon of salt and a few turns of fresh pepper and then the artichokes. Add 1/3 cup of water. Now here's the interesting part. Get a piece of parchment, wet it, crumble it, and put it on top of the artichokes (I think this helps keep it from burning. Who knows? It works). Then put a lid on the pot, lower the heat as far down as possible, and go read a book or something for forty five minuts (You all know what I mean by "something." It will make you hungrier. Trust me on this....)

Now, after this forty five minutes, you are done. You can serve these just like this, or perhaps sprinkle some orange juice over them, and serve them hot or at room temperature, as I did. And they'd be fine. Maybe better than the next step, which I wish I hadn't done.

Peel three oranges, and section them as best as you can. Put them in a pan with the juices of the artichokes, a touch of ground coriander, and a tablespoon of sugar. Let this cook at low heat for about five minutes, leaving it alone as much as possible. Then, add the artichokes back into the pan and cook them for another five minutes. Now, you're done.

To me, that last bit was unnecessary. I would have just taken the artichokes, dressed them with some more olive oil, and served them. And if there had been only three or four of us, I might have put this out with some bread and said "enjoy your lunch." However you serve them, find some of your KEEPERS and share this with them. Show them how precious they are to you. It's worth it. Again, trust me on this.