How Cooking Made Us Human

Some excerpts from the review of Richard Wrangham's new book, Catching Fire: How Cooking Made Us Human:

"Just over two and a half million years ago, our brains swelled. Less than a million years later, they swelled again, our posture and our gait changed, our jaws shrank, and we grew taller. These two evolutionary changes define our species, distinguishing us from our fellow primates. 1.8 million years ago, we learned to cook. Cooking... literally powered our evolution."

"Archeologists have found earth ovens more than 250,000 years old.... Cooking is the only possible explanation for the transformation that stood us on our feet, shrank our guts, gave us silly teeth and receding jawlines, and swelled our brains to their current, horrendously fuel-inefficient size."

"No one, ancient or modern, settled or nomadic, has ever survived for more than a couple of seasons on an exclusively raw diet."

Food Poem Fridays: John Engels' CRANBERRY-ORANGE RELISH

Cranberry-Orange Relish
by John Engels

A pound of ripe cranberries, for two days
macerate in a dark rum, then do not
treat them gently, but bruise,
mash, pulp, squash
with a wooden pestle
to an abundance of juices, in fact
until the juices seem on the verge

of overswelling the bowl, then drop in
two fistsful, maybe three, of fine-
chopped orange with rind, two golden
blobs of it, and crush
it in, and then add sugar, no thin
sprinkling, but a cupful dumped
and awakened with a wooden spoon

to a thick suffusion, drench of sourness, bite of color,
then for two days let conjoin
the lonely taste of cranberry,
the joyous orange, the rum, in some
warm corner of the kitchen, until
the bowl faintly becomes
audible, a scarce wash of sound, a tiny
bubbling, and then
in a glass bowl set it out
and let it be eaten last, to offset
gravied breast and thigh
of the heavy fowl, liverish
stuffing, the effete
potato, lethargy of pumpkins

gone leaden in their crusts, let it be eaten
so that our hearts may be together overrun
with comparable sweetnesses,
tart gratitudes, until finally,
dawdling and groaning, we bear them
to the various hungerings
of our beds, lightened
of their desolations.

________________________________

P.S. What do you think of poem-recipes?

Recipe by Miz SunDrop: Cornbread Dotted with Dried Cherries

We used Indian green chillies (just 2, finely sliced -- nowhere near the 1/2 cup the recipe calls for!) instead of the canned kind. Enjoy!

1 cup butter

3/4 cup sugar

4 eggs

1/2 cup diced canned green chillies (or 2 finely sliced fresh Indian or Thai green chillies)

1 1/2 cups "creamed" corn (canned)
1/2 cup shredded jack or cheddar
1 cup flour

1 cup yellow cornmeal

2 tbsp baking powder

1/2 cup dried cherries

Cream together butter, sugar and eggs. Add remaining ingredients, mix well. Spread into a greased 9"x9" pan (double recipe makes a 9"x13").

Bake at 325 degrees Fahrenheit for 45 minutes.

Yams with Mustard Greens

This dish has a great range of flavors - sweetness from the yams, kickiness from the mustard greens and red chilli powder, and an aromatic brightness from the ginger. It's also very good for you!

- 4 yams (sweet potatoes with golden flesh) (I used 8 long and skinny ones that I picked up from the Union Square Greenmarket) , peeled and cut into half-moons, 1/4" thick
- 2 small heads mustard greens, washed, dried, and sliced into 2" long ribbons (cut down the length of the rib and then slice into thin ribbons cross-wise)
- 1.5" ginger, peeled and thinly julienned
- 4 shallots (or 1/2 large red onion), finely chopped
- salt to taste (approx. 1 tsp)
- lal mirchi (red chilli powder) to taste (mine is very spicy, so I probably used no more than 1/4 tsp)
- about 2 tbsp olive oil

Heat olive oil in a large sauté pan or wok on medium high until hot. Add shallots and ginger and sauté until soft, or for about two minutes. Add yams, salt and red chilli powder, and sauté until the yams are half-cooked, or for about seven or eight minutes. Add mustard greens and continue sautéeing; the water that leaches out from the greens will help to partially steam-cook the yams. Turn off heat in about seven minutes, when the yams are cooked through but not mushy and the greens are completely wilted.

This can be served hot or eaten cold as leftovers, too.

I used purple mustard greens (like these) that I picked up at the Union Square Greenmarket.