Living with Food Fears

Many people in modern Western society find themselves trapped by self-inflicted anxieties that hinder their ability to engage with the world around them. There’s this widespread avoidance of “expired” foods, for instance. We often turn to the CDC’s website or consult our digital meat thermometers, all in an effort to reassure our families that we’re not going to make them sick.

But really, cooking isn’t that complicated. It’s a skill that humans have practiced for tens of thousands of years, well before programmable stoves and fancy gadgets were ever a thing. The main thing keeping us from doing it is, well, unnecessary fear.

Seriously, you don’t need all that complex equipment to make bread. How do you think pioneers like Laura Ingalls managed?

And it’s not just cooking that falls victim to modern paranoia. People today are reportedly much more cautious about tasks like checking their car’s oil or pouring in antifreeze, hesitating as if they can’t do it without a professional.

Focusing on Food

My focus here is food. Since my childhood in the 1980s, when I first learned to cook, it seems like many adults in America have retreated into mental cages, paralyzed by exaggerated fears of food safety and technology.

I grew up in a different era—back when kids walked to school without any fuss and freely rode bikes around town. Nowadays, after school, parents create new traffic jams around public schools. It feels disproportionate. Just to put things into perspective, only about 1 in 10 children walks to school today. If that sounds normal to you, then you’re exactly who I’m addressing.

By the time I was eight, I could use the stove for simple meals. Fast forward to today: the average 14-year-old hasn’t even cooked a box of mac and cheese on the stovetop. Later, at 25, they find themselves complaining about food prices, thinking that services like DoorDash are the standard way to get dinner.

A Personal Experience

Back in 1991, while working the night shift at Perkins Family Restaurant in Camillus, New York, I noticed a concerning mindset among the adults. It was 2 PM, and I was barely able to stay awake through an all-hands meeting on food safety.

Phil, the district manager, shared horror stories about poultry and salmonella. But here’s the catch—we never had raw chicken in that kitchen. Everything we served was pre-cooked, and any salmonella was long gone by the time it got to the steaming station.

Phil poured a bag of perfectly cooked chicken and dumpling soup into a pot and pulled out a thermometer. “This pot isn’t hot enough. If we don’t maintain the temperature, guests are at risk for salmonella poisoning,” he insisted.

I bit back a reaction. If you didn’t already know, once chicken is cooked, all the salmonella is dead—there’s no regrowth from cooling. Sure, bacteria may thrive in certain conditions, but this guy seemed to believe that cooling off a few degrees could magically resurrect salmonella. Was he under the impression that flies could sprout from raw meat?

The Shifting Attitude Toward Cooking

As someone who enjoys cooking, I’ve noticed a culinary evolution over the last 40 years. These days, it seems fewer and fewer parents are teaching cooking skills to their children. What used to require a few sentences to explain has now inflated into long, convoluted steps. “Pour water into a clear cup, and then check to see if it reaches the ‘one cup’ mark. Be careful as you tilt it to allow the water to flow into the bowl.” Really?

I might be exaggerating slightly here. Some years ago, I foolishly searched for a chicken paprikash recipe and, oh boy, the comments! One user said something like, “I made this recipe just as you wrote, but you never mentioned there were bones in the chicken. I was horrified!” Yes, there are bones—what’d you expect?

This isn’t just someone trolling online. I’ve seen enough evidence to know that many Americans are completely unaware that meat comes with bones. It’s extraordinary how basic knowledge is fading.

Rediscovering Old Techniques

Recently, I felt inspired to start making bread again. A YouTube channel called “medieval road” caught my attention. These British guys demonstrate the simple methods of bread-making and food preservation that once relied purely on muscle memory and instinct. It’s fascinating how their techniques, historically consistent for centuries, seem to offer meals that are much healthier than what many of us currently consume.

Contrary to popular belief, the past wasn’t filled with constant food poisoning threats simply because refrigeration and food safety regulations didn’t exist. Let’s be real—those who lived before us weren’t ignorant.

I wanted to try my hand at baking sourdough using natural yeast, opting not to use scales or specialty materials. No exact measurements either.

I aim to master the art of cooking through my own senses and experiences. Really, you don’t need complicated tools for bread-making. Think about how Laura Ingalls did it—she learned to assess dough by how it felt, rather than by numbers. I believe I can, too. So can you.

Maybe my journey will encourage you to take the plunge. Here’s how I did it. Don’t expect to find precise measurements or expert tips; just dive in and learn as you go.

For Beginners

• Use stone-ground organic whole grain rye flour. It’s not a hippy thing; this flour is actually better for you and works faster than white flour.
• Water. I’m fortunate to have well water that’s clean and chlorine-free. If you’re using city water, let it sit out for a while to allow the chlorine to evaporate so it won’t inhibit the yeast growth.

Mix the flour in a bowl with water and stir it. Cover it with a towel and leave it on the counter. Each day, dump out half and replenish it with water and flour for the yeast to thrive.

After about a week, I hadn’t noticed much progress. Just as I was about to give up, I lifted the towel. Lo and behold, I discovered a bubbling concoction of live yeast and bacteria—a natural fermentation that creates flavors that you won’t find in store-bought bread. It only cost some time and a few cents.

Making the Dough

Next, I added some all-purpose organic flour to the bubbly mix along with lukewarm water and maybe half a cup of my starter. I mixed it all and kneaded it a bit, though honestly, if you wait, you won’t even need to knead it by hand; letting it sit for 24 hours at room temperature with a loose lid will yield better results, as those microbes will do the work for you.

Here’s what it looked like after 12 hours.

It had risen maybe 20-30%, but that’s typical for sourdough; it’s slower than commercial yeast, and my house is on the cooler side. If you want a faster rise, you could put it in the oven with just the light on.

I’m not exactly sure how long it takes to double—could be 24 hours or even 36. A longer fermentation leads to better digestibility and flavor, but eventually, it’ll rise enough to bake in a preheated Dutch oven at 500 degrees, yielding an incredible loaf with a crust so flaky it might shatter.

I hope you find a passion for cooking, whether it’s bread or something else like cake or roasted meat. Just cook! Put down the cookbook, stop searching for that foolproof Bolognese recipe, and quit binge-watching tutorial videos.

Experience it with your hands and your heart. Most so-called “mistakes” in cooking aren’t catastrophic. You don’t need to strictly adhere to professional guidelines; this isn’t secret knowledge reserved for culinary wizards. Even those who lived on mere pennies a day managed to create meals for their families without all the modern trappings we rely on today.

So, let’s get cooking!