thank you Yvonne Rainer thank you Rachel Roddy

 Yvonne Rainer wrote about what dancing is to her in a letter to her brother Ivan, and subsequently published it in her autobiography feelings are facts: a life. Like most writing about other things it reminded me of service and is so under my skin I thought I’d share it here.

“Dance =

1. A way out of an emotional dilemma.
2. A place where the training period is so long and arduous as to almost indefinitely postpone a coming to grips with things like purpose and aesthetic or vocational direction.
3. A place that offers some rare moments of rightness (that word again; I think it is equivalent to joy, or ‘fitness’ i.e., things fit).
4. Something that makes my throat fill up.
5. Something to do every day.
6. A way of life, where most other things in life assume a lesser importance and value.
7. Something that offers an identity: ‘I am a dancer,’ also ‘I am a hard worker, I work my ass off in class in spite of being handicapped by a crazy Rainer body.’ The virtue of hard work, salvation through sweat, is very important here. I am sure most dancers are martyrs of one variety or another.”

I’m not alone in seeing this relationship I think? A friend of mine who pursued undergraduate studies in dance while working at a restaurant was inspired by Rainer too. Her final project was choreographed through her experience as commissary baker and restaurant host. While I’m no dancer I see the choreography of the restaurant clearly. Each person with their own style, bringing themselves to the pans, the dish pit, the pass, the door as part of a loosely structured piece with many participants; what is inevitably called the service. Losing my body’s work last year hurt in ways I hadn’t anticipated. Reading Rainer’s words helps locate that pain. The loss of a coping mechanism, those moments of rightness, the full throat/full heart that comes with those moments of rightness, routine, a way of life and of how you have cared for others, and your identity, intertwined with hard work. I felt it a lot, I still feel it some weeks. But with the location of the pain points comes ways to soothe them.

One of these ways is cooking from Rachel Roddy’s weekly column “A kitchen in Rome” for the Guardian. I look forward to it every Monday. I love her writing that precedes them, always so much meat on the bone. About olive oil, salt, lemons, things that already shaped the cooking of my household. They also shape the way I approach this writing. The recipes always have just a few ingredients and steps, allowing me to feel the weight of all of my gestures. It’s so easy to dig into the nuances of the recipe, find it for my kitchen. Asking myself how I want the bacon to eat or how noticeable the onions should be. My knife work is changed, it still lacks a chef’s precision but is more harmonious with the dish, with consideration to the effect of the preparation of the dish. The more I repeat any cooking task with empathy the more my intention shifts to my intuition and the more my identity shifts from restaurant professional to home cook.

The most successful dish I have made from her column is a bean and clam soup. I had both beans and clams in my freezer at the time so it took 15 minutes. It was served with toast and salad and I think could be a good time to bring it back as it fits our emotionally confusing season nicely. We drank Chenin blanc which I thought was perfect but did start a little argument in our house about culturally appropriate pairings. I say, you’re eating clams in Chicago and all the wine is imported so you make your own culture.

Bean and clam soup (by Rachel Roddy, from A kitchen in Rome)

1 small onion

6 tbsp olive oil

500g cooked beans from your freezer or a can (drained)

1L water

300g fresh clams

1 peeled garlic clove

150ml white wine

In a deep saucepan or casserole, gently fry the onion in four tablespoons of the olive oil until soft and translucent. Add the cooked beans and a liter of water, bring to a boil and reduce to a simmer for 10 minutes.*

Meanwhile, in a frying pan, warm the whole clove of garlic in the remaining two tablespoons of oil for two minutes, add the clams, raise the heat, add the wine and cover. Once you hear the clams opening, lift the lid and remove them with a slotted spoon. When they are all open, remove from the heat and filter the clam liquor. Separate the clam flesh from the shells and set it aside, keeping just a few shells for decoration.

Blend the soup (or half-blend it, if you prefer) until smooth, taste and add enough clam liquor to season. If it seems too thick, add a little water.

Ladle into bowls, top each with some of the clam flesh, a few shells, a pinch of red chilli and a zigzag of olive oil.

*the beans I used had been cooked with coriander, charred lemon, bay, parmesan rind, dry chile, and I think marjoram. Feel free to add whatever extra aromatics inspire you here.

Another Chenin blanc from the shop that I recommend

We should have some Georgian wines from one of our favorite importers in the game Chris Terrell on Thursday, if you’re curious before they go into the shop let us know and we’ll hook you up. Email rainbowwinechi@gmail.com or DM @rainbow_wines.

-Emily