taking the heat

las chambas

Immediately after snapping a shot of the rain, an empty water taxi glided back to City Dock where sailboats are amassed for the show in what Annapolis smugly claims the ‘World’s Sailing Capital’. I suspect a few other places would challenge the for the title but there are, on any given day between May and October, hundreds upon hundreds of boats along this town’s shores. During the Sailboat show, as true for PowerBoats last weekend, a tremendous concentration of them are here, usually drawing thousands of potential buyers or at least interested parties. Probably far fewer are lingering to view the displays in today’s rain.

You will note the paucity of sunlight or even dry conditions as a steady rain continues. Leek and potato soup has been simmering for about three hours, an indication of the changing seasons.

Like most cooks, I have more kitchen implements than I probably should but return repeatedly to those ‘tried and true’. I have two Dutch Ovens, one with an enamel interior while the Lodge offers a less varnished look of refined cast iron. Usually I make bread in the first while various dishes in the second. I also have been known, in a pinch, to make soup in large sauce pan, particularly if I am in a a rush.

Growing up in Colombia, my mother had several vessels that I didn’t appreciate except for their legacy. They were cultural icons as we came and went from that country and as I moved cross country several times. These black, clay pots of various sizes just were part of our lives. I don’t even remember her using them all that often but they were always on display and available.

When I was in my late forties (long after Colombia), I saw these miraculous pots on the Williams Sonoma website when I was bored one day. I have no memory of why I was looking nor why they caught my attention but they did. I couldn’t believe it: those were what we had and here they were on a website.

They are called chambas, referring to the particular town along the Rio Magdalena which bifurcates that beautiful country as the river runs from the Andes up to the Caribbean. The soil in La Chamba, the town’s actual name, has a unique quality which allows the handmade pots to withstand incredible heat without shattering, melting, or any other terrible outcome. These relataively lightweight pots, made from the local soil, are well known throughout Colombia and, in the age of globalisation, became a draw for those who prefer not using a traditional crock pot (because it’s made in China or for some other reason). Any cook can place a chamba on an open fire, a gas stove, or an electric burner for a prolonged period. The entire pot can move swiftly into the refrigerator without much delay. Sure, if left completely unattended, one can definitely burn whatever you’re cooking but the thickness of the clay protects the ingredients for an extended simmering time. It’s a glorious pot which one can also use for baking.

In sum, it’s a superbly flexible cookware with the memories of a place and time far away for me.

I often give a chamba as a wedding gift. Chambas exemplify some of most important attributes of human interaction: the pot absorbs incredible stress, intense heat in a variety of forms and at varying levels. They can either cool easily or retain heat without showing any change on the outside. Chambas require some personal attention through soap, water, and some investment of time for maintenance, a.k.a. clearning. And yet, with their positives, chambas also are fragile like human relationships; if not treated well, they can develop cracks that gradually expand, leading to messes on the stove or on a counter. Worse, chambas can shatter as a result of a single stupid action like knocking it onto the floor.

In short, chambas are so emblematic of life. We often use them to get what we desire but don’t always appreciate the risk of taking them for granted which can be fatal to the pot and deeply disappointing for us.

I am so thankful I have one left from almost sixty years ago. Sure, I am lucky enough I probably could easily procure another if something happened to this cherished one as a shop in California specialises in them. The web, of course, helps us get virtually anything these days. But I want mine to endure so I can pass this one with all its personal history.

I am pretty confident the leek and potato soup will be tasty when ready. It’s a surprisingly non-spicy for my palette but remarkably rewarding as a meal.

Thank you for sharing my metaphor in Actions Create Consequences today. It’s been a gut-wrenching week so something more delicate and magical appealed today. Please send me any thoughts as I do read them. Please feel free to circulate any of these columns to someone you be believe would enjoy them.

Thanks especially to the paid subscribers. I appreciate your support so much!

Be well and be safe. FIN