Friday, February 29, 2008

Book Passage/Life Is Meals

January 26 entry:

Jason Epstein's Kitchen

2003. A cold January day and sitting in Jason Epstein's kitchen in Sag Harbor, a smallish room barely twelve feet square, talking about food. The kitchen – its layout – is much the same as when he bought the house thirty or forty years ago. The stove is in the same place, though it is not the same stove. The dark, round table we are sitting at was there, even the rickety chairs.

This house, large and on a wide plot that runs all the way between two streets, is the house you have always wanted, deeply comfortable and civilized. Books and bookcases, wide board floors with Oriental rugs, pictures, places to sit and read or write, and a broad garden on two levels with trees and random stone pathways.

An important editor nearly all his life – one of the great Brahmins – Jason Epstein is also a remarkable cook and writer about food. He has liked to cook for as long as he can remember, perhaps resulting from the visits to his grandmother's in Maine. It was a big, unheated house where they all sat in the kitchen in the winter, the woodstove going, and Jason, a boy of six or seven sitting in the blue wood box next to the stove, would watch his grandmother carry soup and pies she had baked to the table.

In his own kitchen, there's a fireplace with a knee-high hearth, an upholstered armchair, and only about two or three feet of workspace on a butcher-block counter. The other couple of feet are taken up by an elaborate espresso machine. Doesn't he need more space than this to work? "No, the more space, the more mess you make," he says. The first rule is to clean up after yourself as you go. He's cooked dinners for as many as fifty people here without any problem.

There's a refrigerator with photographs stuck to it, an old white sink, and pots and pans hanging from an overhead rack. A long magnetic strip on the wall has twenty or thirty knives in graduated sizes on it. There are no cookbooks. These are in an adjoining room, but Jason rarely uses them. As an editor he published many, and he sometimes reads one to relax. It's a kitchen where one can read, have drinks or hors d'oeuvres before dinner, or sit and talk. The kitchen is the real heart of the house and the life.

Life Is Meals
A Food Lover's Book Of Days
by James and Kay Salter

5 comments:

  1. ...there's a fireplace with a knee-high hearth, an upholstered armchair, and only about two or three feet of workspace on a butcher-block counter. Oh, how I'd love to have a kitchen large enough for a fireplace and an armchair!

    Nice post, Nan. I enjoyed reading this passage. Thank you for sharing it.

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  2. And I just told Tom that I knew you would love it. :<) I thank you for the book!!

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  3. You drew me into this kitchen too Nan. It sounds wonderful.

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  4. Such a dreamy scene here, isn't it? Makes me yearn for such a lifestyle, such a kitchen...

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  5. Lisa and Tara, it really is a wonderful description isn't it?

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Now that I am a grandmother, it seems that I am often late in replying to your most-appreciated comments. But I read them as soon as they come in, and I will write as soon as I can. Please do come back and check. I love these blogging conversations. A little addendum - I've just spent quite a long time catching up with dear notes you left me months ago!! I do hope you can get back to read them. And I'm trying to be much more prompt now!

Also, you may comment on any post, no matter how old, and I will see it.