Why You'd Want One
It's time for a confession. I'm a bit of a pervert. Where your summer cooking kick might come from barbecue, picnic lunches, or campfires, for me summer is the season of pressure-cooking, ice-cream, and pies. I grew up on the prairies, where cold winters pay off with hot-hot summers and longs days. When it's 40ยบ C outside and no-one you know has air-conditioning, how the hell do you put a meal on the table without roasting inside?
I know other people eat a lot of sandwiches, but since I tend to make my own bread, it's not really a heat saver. And barbecuing is great if you have the yard, but if you're in tight quarters or are carless (easily transportable forms of fuel having a big environmental and wallet impact up here where it's hard to recycle mini-propane cans); it's not always an option.
And well—soup in the summer is heaven. I know for a lot of people it's a winter thing, but for me it's a practical way to go through all the produce I pick up. At the farmers market last wednesday we bought pounds of tomatoes, fennel, onions, potatoes, garlic, spinach, broccolini, peppers, carrots—the list goes on. Lunch today? Fennel-lentil soup, ice-cold water, salad with tahini-garlic dressing, and cherry ice-cream at the end. I feel like an infomercial here— but the soup took 11 minutes to cook, and maybe 10 more to prepare.
Normally, that hot pot would be on the stove for about an hour. I'd have to stir frequently, watch the pot, and put up with all the insane heat the burner would release into my apartment. Now, pressure cookers are about more than just soup, but I think it's a pretty great example about their heat efficiency.
I've been in love with pressure cooking since childhood, when my Mom would lug this mythic beast out of the cupboard with an air of trepidation to cook up a tough cut of meat, or to make stew when errands had taken too long (I'm vegan now, but still admire my parents for buying the whole cow direct and using all of it). For a kid something a little magical, and seemingly dangerous, definitely equates with something cool. When I became a self-righteous ecologically minded hippie-wannabe, my love affair got a little bit deeper. I remember checking out "Recipes for an Ecological Kitchen," by Lorna Sass, circa 1992, and being blown away by the preface, where she talked about the philosophy of a kitchen with just a pressure cooker and a frying pan. I'm far far far from that vision, but when I'm living on the road, those two items are always the first two buys for the kitchen, so her book must have had a deep impact on me.