Life Lessons from Small Apartments

(+ A Perfect Winter Dinner Party Menu, and more!)

(Photo by Nate Poekert)

Last night, I taught a cooking class at The Kitchen, and one of my students asked me about my kitchen. He said something to the effect of, “As a chef, do you have a big kitchen with all of the equipment?” I thought for a moment, and said that currently, I am fortunate to have a big kitchen. But I told him that that wasn’t the case for many, many years. And that having a big kitchen and lots of equipment is certainly not necessary to be a good cook.

And then, as I tend to do, I started telling stories from my days living in NYC, in a tiny apartment at the top of 6 flights of stairs with a postage-stamp sized kitchen. I got a daily workout hauling groceries up those stairs, as well as luggage whenever we traveled, or kitchen equipment when I catered parties (which I did, often). The kitchen had about 1-square-foot of counter space when we moved in, until we bought a little butcher-block-topped metro rack for extra storage, and Brandon built a makeshift counter out of an old IKEA bookcase.

Of course there was no washer or dryer in the apartment, so I hauled our clothes up and down those flights of stairs to the laundromat next door. When I tell stories from my time living in NYC, I’m filled with nostalgia and a sense of pride - remembering dinner parties with pots and pans piled in the bathtub, because the tiny sink couldn’t fit them. Of a gnocchi competition we held where 2 people could barely fit in the kitchen at a time. Or of the many photo shoots for my cookbook held within the tiny space, using borrowed props and flooring samples. The kitchen was tiny, but I probably did more cooking here than any other kitchen since!

(Photo by Nate Poekert)

After the class, as we were cleaning up, I ended up talking to one of my colleagues, Lisa, about our days living in France. She, too, had lived in Paris for many years, and we commiserated on the amazing charm and total inconvenience of living there. I told her about my slew of hilarious living arrangements in France, from a dingy basement apartment in Aix-en-Provence at the top of an enormous hill, to a chambre de bonne (maid’s attic room) in Paris, with a tiny tub/shower at the foot of my bed, and a shared toilet on the hall.

I’ll never forget cooking a pot of mussels in my tiny makeshift kitchen in Aix - there was no stove or oven, just a little hot plate plugged in the wall. The mussels took forever to de-beard, and even longer to cook, but the experience of creating this meal with friends was priceless. The apartment had no dining or living room, so we took the pot of mussels and a bottle of wine into my bedroom and used my desk as a table. Three of us sat on the bed and the other three sat in chairs on the other side of the desk. We lit some candles, brought in bowls and silverware, and voila! A dinner party!

Likewise, I’ll never forget a Thanksgiving dinner I threw for some international friends in Paris. My kitchen at this apartment also didn’t have an oven, so I ditched any thoughts of preparing turkey, and instead made steaks with Roquefort sauce and sautéed potatoes and salad. We sat in the living room around a coffee table, telling stories, drinking wine, and it’s to this day one of my most memorable Thanksgivings.

In spite of all the inconveniences, I wouldn’t trade a second of those years living up endless flights of stairs, with weird kitchens and weird neighbors and sometimes weird roommates. I look back on these years in my 20s and 30s with so much nostalgia. In exchange for convenience and comfort, I had adventure. I met lifelong friends, threw epic dinner parties, pursued dreams of cooking and writing, and learned to be resourceful. These experiences made me the resilient person I am today. And left me with so many memories.

Now that I’m in my 40s with a family and a house and 2 cars (WHAT?!), it’s easy to make comfort the goal. But that’s so missing the point. Life is not meant to be merely comfortable. We are meant to live and love fully, to give freely, and pursue our callings with abandon. Anything worth doing will be hard. And joyful! But certainly not easy. Raising kids. Starting a business. Moving cities. Trying something new that terrifies you. Starting or ending a relationship. Traveling somewhere you don’t speak the language. It’s all uncomfortable. And that’s not a bad thing - it’s actually shaping us into the people we’re meant to be.

Last night, my friend asked me if I was going to let my kids live abroad or in NYC and “struggle” the way I did. I said, “Yes! Absolutely!” Truly these experiences made me who I am today, and if anything I have to make sure I don’t lose my sense of adventure and scrappiness. It’s a constant challenge even with my kids at ages 8 and almost 6 to let them struggle with small things, instead of swooping in and doing it for them. But I’m trying to remember that letting them problem solve is such a gift. As is learning to develop a tolerance for discomfort.

Anyway, I know this is a departure from writing about recipes, but I enjoy sharing my heart with you all. Thanks for listening :) And any fellow New Yorkers or ex-pats who have lived abroad, please share your stories if you can relate to any of this! I’m all ears.

XO

Anna

The Perfect Winter Dinner Party Menu

(Photos by Signe Birck, from The Yellow Table Cookbook.)

Last night, I taught a Cozy Winter Dinner Party class at The Kitchen, and I’m convinced that it’s the perfect menu for January/February gatherings. I love the bright flavors of the Citrus Salad with Mint and Pistachios to start, followed by a comforting Sausage Ragu with Creamy Parmesan Polenta for main. (One of the students called the Ragu + Polenta “a warm hug.”) And for dessert, my alltime favorite dessert: Bittersweet Chocolate Cake with Grand Marnier Whipped Cream and Raspberries. It’s so easy, and it happens to be gluten-free, so a double win.

Click HERE for the recipes.

Prep Plan

Day before: Make sausage ragu; marinate red onions in white Balsamic vinegar, cut oranges.

Morning of: Make cake. Set table.

30 minutes before: Make polenta. Make whipped cream (keep in fridge).

Right before guests arrive: Arrange salad - on plates or on a platter. Reheat ragu on low heat on the stovetop.

Now for this week’s menu!

Weekly Meal Plan: January 28 - Feb.3

Hi! Did anyone try out any of the recipes from last week? I made the chicken pot pie and it’s always a big hit. Especially on a cold or rainy day.