MY Chicken

I recently came across a book of “celebrity” chefs each of whom was asked a single question:

“What would you eat for your last meal?”

I was somehow overlooked.

Had the author bothered, I would assure him my choices change with time; my tastes are continually in flux. But, for the moment my all-time list might include:

Mylla’s roast, Karen’s potatoes, Paula Deen’s green beans with new potatoes, a field green salad with Jeannie’s dressing, ending with Ina Garten’s Frozen Key Lime Pie.

Sure, we have all eaten roast, but it is Mylla’s roast that I crave. People may be loathe to admit in public that they covet a good roast, but we all search for a way back to some special time or place in our lives through food; I think it is called "comfort food."

But, seriously, Mylla isn’t a classically trained chef; for that matter, neither is Paula Deen or Ina Garten. Mylla learned the secret to her roast; it didn’t appear to her in a vision. I would also venture a guess that Paula and Ina have recipes which originated on bits of worn paper discovered in neglected recipe boxes from long-forgotten kitchens. Moreover, these savvy women have gone on to sell books filled with the purloined recipes from those dusty boxes to people like me; if only I were so smart.

So, how is it that all of these people have come to hold proprietary claim over certain recipes? And, how many different recipes can possibly exist for pot roast? In my mind, there can only be so many ways to, “skin the proverbial cat.” Yet, bookstore shelves overflow with an ever expanding collection of newly minted instructional cookbooks.

Googling “pot roast," I was confronted with a staggering “1,150,000” posts. Adjectives describing the recipes include: Best, Classic, Simple, Slow-cooking, Oven, and Stove-top – to name a few.

The Food Network – today – lists a mind-numbing 541 recipes, most all of them with generic tag lines of: Meat, Mushroom, and Beef.

If I was new to a pot or even a roast, the choices would be all too confusing. I would need help. I might think to call Marilyn.

If ever in the vicinity of Lecanto, Florida – and desperately in need of resource material for a recipe or future cookbook – as well as a purient desire for a wee glimpse of “the crazies” – one need make a single stop (once past security) to see my good friend, Marilyn B. (That's her: she doesn't believe in makeup but never fails to have a blob of icing on her face.)

Some people collect stamps. Others save newspaper clippings. Some even horde – or have difficulty parting with – garbage. Marilyn has only one vice: Cookbooks. I will do my level best to locate incriminating pictures of her collection; suffice it to write that the shelves of her bookcases moaned and strained under the sheer weight of the collection when she moved to the Black Diamond Ranch community – and lost. The aggregate number totals some 800 or so books; she gave away a "couple hundred of them" before making the move. She has every cookbook known to man.

I guess one could write that I am a one-woman man; I very seldom stray from Ina Garten. (There are occasional dalliances with the likes of Paula Deen, and Tyler Florence – please, don’t go there.) So, when compared to Marilyn’s library, my eight or nine books might seem anemic. Well, to my way of thinking, the collection while small is also mighty.

What has Ina done for me? She has brought great food to the table for my family and friends. As a result, she has also made me a very popular guy. People think I can cook -- and when others come to believe you do it well? Forgetaboutit.

How is that? Look at the picture -- I cooked those beauties!

Ina’s ridiculously simple and fantastic roast chicken is now “MY” roast chicken. I made no claim; I let the recipe, my ability to follow instructions -- as well as the results -- do the talking. I should note that I may-have-also-kind-of-sorta (silently) laid claim to her homemade gravy – as well as her frozen key lime pie. It is an innocent sin of omission; I never declared ownership. By way of full disclosure, I should probably add that I pretty-much cook almost everything Ina offers up; I may very well be guilty of a multitude of similar sins.

I don’t imagine I will ever have the opportunity to meet her -- unless a lawsuit is filed for failing to declare that the food I cook, “is the intellectual property of Ina Garten.” Absent litigation, I certainly wouldn’t forfeit an opportunity to meet Ina -- if only to thank her and to relay how her recipes have greatly expanded our collective compendium of “comfort food.” And, I hope she would actually find comfort in knowing that some of her recipes, those which have now become MY crowd-pleasing favorites, will live on in the hearts and minds of my family and friends. She has my unflogging loyalty as well as some of my money; maybe she could spare a little of the credit?

And, if Ina really pressed, I would even consider asking Mylla, Karen, and Jeannie if I could share their recipes with her. (I doubt they would charge.)

Rest assured, Ina. I have no interest in writing a cookbook – y(our) recipes are safe.

I wouldn’t trust Marilyn, however.