Cooking Single-Handed: Adventures in the Kitchen

With the depressing demise of Gourmet, there's been a great deal of chatter about the plebes vs. the patricians among the cooking classes. 

I happen to be a lot of both.

There are plenty of take-out curry nights around our house, but there are also nights to be remembered: chicken cacciatore (my husband's favorite), onion frittata, lamb chops, pesto, ratatouille with spring vegetables, skirt steak, pork chops, baby potatoes roasted until they taste like candy...I could go on but there's plenty of food porn out there already.

Still, I've been thinking. As the food lovers'  world continues to shift, maybe there's an opening for me to fulfill my longtime dream of having a one-handed cooking show.

I was born with one hand and wore a prosthesis until I was 35. The thing was amazing in the kitchen. It had a hook on the end and I could use it for all sorts of cooking-related activities: plunge it in pasta water and stir; shake the roasting pan around pot-holder-free; grab hot potatoes and toss them on the counter; flip a chop on the barbecue with built-in tongs.

I do miss it sometimes, but I took it off one day and have been adapting my kitchen practices quite enthusiastically ever since. There are a lot of advantages to having one hand in the kitchen. You don't have to do the knuckle thing when you chop (what more could go wrong?!); a totally accessible elbow is perfect for pounding and rolling dough; pizza tossing is a breeze; sweeping cutting surfaces couldn't be easier.  I've never met a chicken I couldn't carve, a cake I couldn't frost (actually, that's debatable) or a lattice pie crust I couldn't thread.

It's not about the challenge. It's truly about the joy (of cooking). I'd like to share the wealth. Next up: Hawaiian Lady Chocolate Cake. The Uglier the Betty-er.