Sometimes I wonder, with the number of people writing about food these days, if anyone just eats food anymore. You might think that trying to appreciate food by reading about it is like trying to appreciate Mozart by looking at a painting of an orchestra.

Of course, at least if you're reading about food, you get the occasional picture to help you connect with the subject. But what could you possibly get from just listening to someone talk about food on the radio?

Turns out, a lot. 'The Splendid Table' is a weekly show on public radio, but you probably could have guessed the 'public part,' since I don't think the word 'splendid' gets used very often on commercial radio. And calm down, right-wingers--I know you started salivating when you saw the words 'public radio,' but there's no scary liberal agenda here.

The host of 'The Splendid Table' is Lynne Rosetto Kasper, author of an award winning book on Northern Italian cooking called, oddly enough, 'The Splendid Table.'  Her show mixes interviews with food questions from listeners and they call it  '"radio for people who love to eat." Or, I suppose you could call it...comfort radio.

When I set up our chat, I had two fears. The first was that I would accidentally refer to  her as Lynne RISSOTTO Kasper, and then she'd get pissed, thinking I was mocking either her or the classic Italian creamy rice dish. Thankfully, that didn't happen. In fact, she was very warm and down-to-earth, with none of the stuffiness you might think of when you hear 'public radio.'

My second fear was that somehow she would know that, though I've listened to public radio for years...I've never been a 'paid member.' That's right--I've essentially been stealing great music and conversation for years!

I've been enjoying insightful political analysis AND Tibetan throat singing without paying for either! So I was afraid we might get to a really interesting part of the interview, and then someone from my local station would interrupt the phone call for twenty minutes asking me to make a pledge.

When I was still doing standup, I hated being introduced at parties as a comic, becuase there would always be someone asking me to 'be funny,' on the spot.

As a writer, it's not such a problem, since I'm rarely asked at a party to spontaneously crank out a thousand words of prose. When I asked LRK (as I like to think of her) if she constantly gets bombarded with cooking questions, she was refreshingly honest --

"I do, and quite frankly, I really don't mind it at all -- I rather like it.  I have this job..on the radio...if people weren't interested, I'd be a bit surprised. It's fun to steer the conversation in other directions...but it's very flattering that people pay attention and have some idea what you do for a living. (Yeah, that would be nice, since I'm still not sure I know what it is I do for a living.)

She was understandably diplomatic when I wanted her to name a favorite guest ("It's hard to name names--it's like being asked to name your favorite restaurant"), but she did single out quirky writer Amy Sedaris, saying "she's just a hoot."

The more interesting answer, I thought, if only for how extraordinarily carefully it was worded, came when I asked for her least favorite guest--someone, let's say, whose cooking is more interesting than they are...

"I'm gonna put it this way...I'm not gonna name names -- (Again with the not naming names? C'mon, lady, I'm trying to write a story here! I want to expose the dark side of public broadcasting!)

There are some people that...lamentably...do not...sparkle with life...and do not generate...an immense amount of enthusiasm in others...(Got it--sort of the interview equivalent of powdered mashed potatoes).

I found it encouraging that she admits to having been stumped...

"Oh, let me count the number of times! Oh my goodness, yes! Absolutely -- I'm an expert at backpedalling. If  you listen closely, a lot of what you're hearing is just logic, not 'knowledge.' If we spend time involved in something you get a tremendous amount of pleasure doing, or being challenged by, we learn enough that, when people ask us questions, we can extrapolate.

I'll have to remember, next time I'm entirely guessing at something, to tell people that I'm just 'extrapolating.' Anyway, I thought it was time to make the questions a bit less ordinary, so I asked her -- if a New York deli wanted to name a sandwich after her, what would you need to make a Lynne Rosetto Kasper (or as I call it, the LRK)?

 "First of all, it would be made with a really, really chewy ciabatta bread. It would be -- oh god, I haven't had this in ages -- really, really, REALLY good New York deli liverwurst, with thin-sliced onion that has been marinated in a little...vinegar to get rid of the heat of the onion...

Those onions are shaved, they're piled on the sandwich, there's mayo on the bread, and mustard --now this is not a traditional liverwurst sandwich -- this is MY liverwurst sandwich. This is the sandwich I ate growing up.

And you have this really chewy, fabulous bread -- or, if  you're on the east coast, you have a hard roll, which, unfortunately, nobody here knows what that is...it's cultural (I hear ya -- nobody can make decent egg salad in Minnesota either).

The thing you have to have with that sandwich, and this is where deli traditionalists will raise their eyebrows and say 'She's a heathen,' is a great sweet gerkhin -- NOT a kosher pickle-- I know, 'she's a barbarian'...

Wow, you're right -- that is crazy talk. So while she was on a roll (no doubt an east coast hard roll), I asked her to deal with this hypothetical dilemma: I have to make a romantic dinner for my girlfriend, but I'm broke AND I don't want to work too hard -- now..extrapolate!

"First thing you're gonna do is buy a potato...you're gonna buy an onion...and a carrot (and just hand them to her?) and we're gonna get one can of tomatoes...and I'm gonna assume you have some herbs in the cupboard (What if I'm so broke I don't have a cupboard? Huh? Didn't think of that, did you, radio lady? Okay, fine, I've got some herb. I mean herbs.)

Then she asked if I had some wine around the house (of course --that's how I cope with being hypothetically broke), and whether I had any stale bread (what is this, 'Let's Make A Deal'?)... some garlic, and some oil or butter...

"You are gonna make her the best peasant soup in the whole world, and it's gonna warm her right to her toes.

"You're gonna take a nice pot, put some butter in that pot..you're gonna slice up a lot of onion, and some of the carrots and put it in that pot, over medium to medium-low heat, and cover --

"Let it cook until the onions are soft, uncover it and let it brown...stir occasionally, a little salt and pepper, if you have some allspice (or) dried basil that goes in...

"Dice the potato and put it in, add some canned tomato to that, add some wine and enough water to cover just about everything...you're gonna let that simmer, and when everything's nice and soft, you can season it more...

"Now what you're gonna do is a really classy Euro touch...(not sure I wanted to go 'Euro' for this meal -- next I'll be cooking in a black turtleneck -- but go on...).

"You're gonna take your stale bread, heat (it) over a burner until it gets toasty...you're gonna rub it with a little butter, and a half a clove of garlic. Break up pieces of that in the bottom of two soup bowls, and ladle that hot soup over it --that is a big bowl of love!

Fine, I thought I could throw her a curve, and she nailed it. But the questions only get more challenging....See, she does this show from Minnesota, but she's also known for Tuscan cooking, so let's see if she can come up with a fusion of Northern Italy and Minnesota -- what might be called...Tuscanavian cuisine. I suggested she use walleye:

"First of all, it's a fresh-water fish, so it's really, really simple. In most of Italy, fish is done SO simply. It might be done with a few sage leaves, in a pan, with olive oil or butter --in Minnesota, you'd probably use butter  (sure, and then we'd deep-fry it)-- anyway, you do a slow sauté of it, and literally just salt, pepper and maybe some slivers of garlic...You'd slow-cook it so you can be really careful of not overcooking, and you'd serve that with a few wedges of lemon and THAT IS IT."

Alright, she got that one, too. But if my questions didn't faze her, I figured there had to be a side of her that the listening audience never hears -- and I think deep down, we all want to imagine a cursing, angry Lynne Rosetto Kasper...

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...there's a very colorful vocabulary that lurks just beneath the surface. There are things that aggravate me...for instance that lovely pot of braising, slow-cooking loveliness? And you go to pull out the (oven) rack when the rack wasn't seated properly to begin with?

"I love doing stock. I do it every three or four months -- make a big quantity, and stick it in the freezer. I've got this down to an art. I leave it to sit overnight on the stove, very slow bubble...It's utterly delicious, it's like money in the bank, it's very easy to do...

"Right now, I have a bad knee, so I'm in pain when I'm moving around the kitchen. So, I got this together, it was done, the pot was really heavy... it was  too big to fit in the fridge, and I wanted it cooled down really fast, and it was very cold outside, so I thought I'd put it on the back porch.

"I was trying to get the screen door open, and I slipped with this pot, and the grease was still hot from the stove...and this stuff sloshed over the threshold, onto the cement steps...now it's freezing fat on the porch, you are ice-skating on this fat...it's midnight and I'm chiseling the porch --you have NO idea..."

While I tried to get the image of this lovely woman 'ice-skating on chicken fat' out of my head, I learned some random things about LRK as a chef:

1. She generally doesn't listen to music when she's cooking, it's "just me and my food."
2. If she could only use one spice or herb for the rest of her life? "The thing I turn to most often...it's a tossup between basil and some member of the chili family, leaning toward basil because it's a 'blending herb.' And about 'umami' ingredients like soy sauce and fish sauce that 'lift' other flavors, she says, "You keep those babies around the house and a little bit goes a long way to make food taste good."
3. She wouldn't say she hates any particular foods, but did say, 'Okra has yet to engage me." Oh, and she also mentioned that she no longer eats grains, and as much as she loves raw seafood, she avoids it, "because of problems I'm aware of -- it's very disturbing that I have to, with what's happening to our food supply -- don't get me started -- I know too much." (Yikes! All of a sudden my little fluffy interview has turned into a Robert Ludlam novel!)

For a bonus question, I like to ask chefs where and when in history they would like time-travel, and LRK  gave me this:

"I would like to be in the early 1500s, in the palace of the Dukes of Ferrara, in the Emilia-Romagna region of Northern Italy, during the height of their power...Lucretia Borgia had married into the family, and it was one of the great ruling houses of the Renaissance...

"To be the fly on the wall , to be both at those secret tables and observe what was going on in those kitchens...you would also be a first-hand observer of how poisons are prepared, all of the intrigue...(Cooking for tyrants AND making a basic poison, on the next 'Top Chef: Middle Ages').

And of course, to understand someone who cooks, you need to know what their favorite utensil is...

"It is my flat-bottomed wooden spatula, slightly curved at the bottom. Every time I see someone try to stir with a wooden spoon (wait -- are you watching us while we're cooking?) where it's like trying to move around food in a pot with the edge of a dime, and with my spatula you can sweep across the bottom of your pan quickly when something's threatening to burn...

"I keep four or five of these at all times. When they look like they're gonna crack I get another one, because they're like...four bucks. There are three things that, without changing anything else you do, automatically make you a better cook. The second one is an oven thermometer -- every oven in the world is off. When you think you have failed -- 'I can't roast!' -- it's because your oven is messed up, not you!

"And the other thing is, you get an instant-reading thermometer...that's gonna tell you (for example), if  your steak is really medium-rare, it's 130 degrees before you pull it off the heat to give it a rest...and you're always in control.

Even though I've never really understood the idea of calling a cooking hotline for my cooking emergencies (opting instead to usually throw out what I've ruined and microwave a pizza), I figured our nurturing host had dealt with the occasional 'stressed-out' caller in a culinary crisis...

"Early on when doing 'Turkey Confidential' (her special Thanksgiving advice show), we had a young woman call in whose husband --they were newly married -- the husband announced to his family that she was going to do Thanksgiving dinner all by herself, that she didn't need any help.

"He was inviting his whole family over, and she had never cooked. My first thought was, ditch the guy. This poor woman called close to tears! I really was thinking, I wish there were some way I could send this woman the name of a divorce lawyer.

So are there ever people who call the show, and it's clear from their questions they shouldn't even be in a kitchen, that they should probably resign themselves to a life of ordering delivery?

"Well, we kid a lot, but my favorite line is 'Nowhere is it written that everybody is supposed to cook.' I can roast something and know, pretty much by instinct, whether it's done, but can I figure out my computer? Not my skill set!

When I shared with Lynne Rosetto Kasper my tentative steps as a novice cook, and how I started cooking to deal with my anxiety she offered some insight:

"When we're preoccupied with stress, or exhausted from work, to do something that occupies you physically -- cooking involves all your senses, and if you can give yourself up to the pleasure of cooking...the goal doesn't have to be 'Did I get it right?' or 'Does it taste fabulous?'

"That's very nice, but the real delight in this is that, for whatever amount of time you have,  you can give yourself up to the taste, and the smell, and the touch...to trust in your senses, and trust in your common sense. It's allowing yourself to become totally engaged in something that is tactile."

And that might be the best two-paragraph description I've ever heard of what cooking really means. Of course, she had me at 'big bowl of love,' and 'slow-cooking loveliness.' And if you're curious, when I hung up the phone I made a donation to public radio. Not huge, but enough for someone to buy an onion, a carrot and a potato. And now I can enjoy my Tibetan throat singing guilt-free.

You can buy LRK's books at Amazon.com, and catch 'The Splendid Table' every weekend on your local public radio station.