Book Byte: "The Happiness Project"

"The Happiness Project" by Gretchen Rubin

I have to admit something. I adore fiction. I gobble up fiction. It relaxes me. It makes me happy. I read it and read it and read it. (At the moment I'm rereading "Mansfield Park"....yay!) But, as I was sick the past few days and the book I'd been waiting for for at least a month finally came in, I broke with tradition and read a non-fiction/memoir/creative non-fiction book. Whatever category it falls into, I really enjoyed "The Happiness Project". It was inspiring and delightful to read. It was also thought-provoking. I would recommend it - mostly. Just to cover my basis, let me say Gretchen is not a Believer and in the book she does talk about Buddhism, hypnosis, and other stuff like that. But all-in-all, I found it very interesting and enjoyable!

An Experiment in Alfredo

For the past few months I have been wishing that I could cook more. Not that I am saying I can't cook, because that wouldn't be true. But there is something about instinctively knowing how to cook. I have also wanted new recipes. I can make about four meals amazingly. However, I wish to broaden my repertoire. And so, inspired in some ways perhaps by Julie and Julia I began looking through cookbooks, thinking how much fun it would be to cook through one. But as I read my heart began to sink. In most cookbooks the recipes they have are, to put it mildly, complex, expensive, and sound disgusting. Perhaps that is my shortfall. I am probably a picky eater, although I wouldn't admit it. I just don't like seafood, tomatoes, mustard, weird fruits and vegetables, and other sundry odd and sophisticated food. In most of the recipe books, the recipes consisted of eggplant, artichoke, seafood, and everything had tomatoes in it. Yuck. So I began to despair. How on earth could I add to my recipe knowledge if everything was disgusting?

So, I began to give up. But the desire was still in the back of my mind. I would still glance at the cookbooks, hoping beyond hope to find a good one. I found an ok one at the library that I still haven't made anything out of.

I was beginning to forget the need to have new recipes and be able to really cook.

And then, a few days ago, the fever caught me. I had to do something. I had to cook something new. I had to.

And so I did what any modern housewife in my situation would do. I googled "Easy Dinners" or something like that. And I found a Web site that was connected to Betty Crocker. And as I explored I found recipes, recipes that weren't disgusting, that weren't too expensive, and that weren't too hard! Ecstatically, I wrote down the ingredients for two of the recipes and went to the store.

The one recipe that I decided to try was homemade Alfredo. Luke and I love Alfredo and have eaten it many, many times since it was served at our wedding. But never had I undertaken to make it from scratch. Reading the recipe, I thought, now I can do this. It doesn't even look that hard.

Reading the reviews added something more. Many people suggested adding garlic to the recipe. That would be something new and adventurous, I thought. It wasn't even in the original recipe. That would be so daring of me.

So finally with my supplies of cream, butter, Parmesan cheese, salt, pepper, and garlic, I began. I put my noodles on to boil (Luke and I are partial to Penne) and looked at the piece of garlic sitting before me.

Before you think that I am a complete incompetent when it comes to garlic, let me tell you something - I am very good at using a garlic press.

However, I don't have one.

How hard could it be to mince?

I pulled out a knife. I grasped the garlic in my hand and sliced. The first problem became apparent. The garlic was very hard. I tried a bigger knife. The top of the garlic finally lay on the cutting board. I pulled out one of the pieces (I know they have a real name, but I don't know what it is) and was ready to mince.

My way of mincing is simple. I chop it up one way. Then I chop it up another way. And then I look at the pieces. Generally, they are still too big, so then I just move my knife up and down really fast hoping that the thing I am mincing gets smaller.

That is what I did with the garlic. After I was done, I sighed. It looked to big to be minced. I was immediately jealous of Princess Tiana and Julia Childs. How could they mince with such skill and such quickness and have such beautiful, little bits of minced substance before them. No, I am a Prince Naveen sort of mincer.

Resigning myself to my bad mincing, I melted the butter and the cream together with my large minced garlics and watched the fattening substance. Watching a stick of butter melt on low heat is exhausting. It also takes forever. But finally it was done. Adding the salt, pepper, and Parmesan cheese was easy.

I poured the white, gooey, beautiful substance over the noodles and brought it out to my husband who was sitting in the back of the pickup truck enjoying some sunshine. Immediately doubts began to assail me. It couldn't possible be good. There was too much garlic. He wouldn't like it. It was failure. I was sure. Somehow outside of the kitchen my accomplishment seemed less like an accomplishment.

And then Luke took the first bite.

"Is it good?" I asked quickly.

I didn't need too much of a response. The look of delight on his face was enough. It was delicious.

Was there too much garlic? I asked. Not at all was the reply.

Sitting on the back of the pickup truck, Luke and I enjoyed our first bowl of homemade Alfredo and I felt accomplished again.

I had found a recipe and I had conquered it!

And it was delicious!

P.S. This post has taught me that I cannot for the life of me spell recipe.

P.P.S. For those of you who want the Web site, the address is: www.bettycrocker.com/recipes