Last night, I was just about to serve up my latest creation—mahi-mahi sautéed in garlic and ginger, with
I love memories of meals past, but not on my shirts! A splash of marinara, a little egg yolk, pomegranate polka dots (one really needs a raincoat to juice a pomegranate), a little chicken fat, a splotch of chocolate—a veritable Rosetta Stone of my culinary efforts. Must my entire wardrobe be speckled?
After venting that, from now on, I would cook naked, I came upon a more practical solution: The apron. I searched the house and found two in back of a cupboard, buried beneath cookie sheets, both unused and from gift shops—a red barbeque apron from Venice Café in Venice, California, and a frilly one with blueberries on it from Maine (which I was surprised hadn’t found its way into my lingerie drawer).
So where were all the real aprons? The cooking aprons?
My mother always wore an apron. It was part of her evening ritual. As the sun began to set, she walked into the kitchen, opened the “apron drawer,” took out an apron, and tied it around her waist. She would spend a few moments staring into the refrigerator, then spring into action. After dinner was plated and brought into the dining room, she would tear off her apron and throw it on the kitchen counter. Dinner was served.
Whenever there was leftover material from making a blouse or dress, my mother would whip up an apron on her sewing machine. All of the mothers made them, and as domestic goddesses in training, we girls learned to make them in Home Economics. These aprons were a kind of currency, exchanged between our mothers for strawberry preserves and pies, showing up as gifts at Christmas and housewarmings. Aprons were given and worn with pride.
But somewhere in the eighties aprons were expunged. The apron came to mean domestic enslavement and repression, a symbol for everything that was holding women back. Women, throw off your bra! Rip off your aprons! You are liberated!
Even my mother, the apron queen, sighed heavily when cleaning her kitchen drawers, and lamented, “What am I going to do with all of these aprons? You girls won’t want them.”
But aprons are making a comeback. Maybe women are liberated enough. Or maybe they’re simply tired of staining their clothes.
Apron websites are all over the Internet—it’s a movement. These apron aficionados call themselves apronistas, swapping photos of their handmade aprons. Forget those white butcher-style aprons. No longer symbols of domestic drudgery, these aprons are frilly and flirty, sassy and fun. Tulle, organza, and satin, decorated with buttons, ribbons, and lace.
So very Mad Housewife.
They’re sexy, too. Have you ever noticed how the apron enhances the bust and shows off your hourglass figure? You bet Joan Halloway from Mad Men would look terrific in an apron.
The domestic goddess is no longer tied to the kitchen by her apron strings. She wants to be there. She relaxes after work by watching Food Network. The kitchen is her retreat, a place to be creative, to make magic.
The new apron is a symbol of gastronomic exuberance. Of entertaining at home. A celebration of the good life—good food, good wine, good friends. Cooking for the people you love. As you leisurely prepare your next meal—your friends sipping Mad Housewife at the counter, marveling at your skill—tie on a sexy little apron that says, This is fun!
Lemon Ricotta Cream Puffs
Now that we have our aprons on, we must bake something. These light, lemony, low-sugar cream puffs are so simple to make, you won’t believe it. Serve with a glass of Mad Housewife Merlot for an elegant finish to any meal.
For lemon ricotta:
16 ounces ricotta (low-fat works fine)
1 package lemon Jell-O (no-sugar)
1-1/2 cups milk
½ cup water
Dissolve Jell-O in ½ cup boiling water. Pour milk and ricotta into a blender. Add Jell-O. Blend until smooth. Pour into bowl and let chill.
For cream puffs:
¾ cup flour
2 teaspoons sugar
1/3 cup butter
3 large eggs, beaten
pinch of salt
hot fudge topping
1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees.
2. Boil ¾ cup water and butter in a 3-quart saucepan. Once boiling, remove from heat and quickly stir in flour, sugar, and salt all at once. Beat with a wooden spoon until mixture is smooth and starts forming a ball. Add beaten eggs a little at a time, stirring furiously until the mixture is glossy.
3. Using a 1-inch scoop, coated with cooking spray (a small ice cream scoop works well), drop dough in mounds on a parchment paper-lined baking sheet.
4. Bake at 400 degrees for 15 minutes, then reduce to 350 degrees. Bake for 20 minutes more or until puffy and golden brown. Remove from oven, and turn it off. Pierce the sides of each cream puff with a skewer or knife to let out the steam. Return puffs to the oven and let sit in the unheated oven for 10 minutes. Remove from oven and let cool.
5. Slice each cream puff in half. Just before serving, fill with the lemon ricotta, and top with hot fudge topping or melted chocolate.
Note: Cream puffs will last two days in the refrigerator and a week in the freezer, and make fabulous egg sandwiches for breakfast.
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