This struck me as epitomizing beautifully what it means to be a good cook today, just as it did when Ruskin penned it in 1866.

It’s crazy to think how we now judge the worth of food by the printed date on its container rather by the smell, or look, or feel of it. It's crazy to think that, as Jamie Oliver points out when speaking of his UK School Dinners program, there are more standards in place for dog food than children’s food. It’s crazy to think that we spend $2.99 for four tired sprigs of parsley in a bag, when a whole parsley plant, as easy to keep alive as an African violet, costs about the same. In Ruskin’s time, cooking and healing were spoken of in the same phrase; waste was a cardinal sin; housekeeping was a craft.

It’s solipsistic and useless to moan about how much better things were in the good ol’ days—after all, they had their own problems (Rachel Laudan’s article on Culinary Luddism is a good way to burst nostalgia-tinged bubbles of fallacy). Arguably, however, something’s been lost in our wholesale adoption of the modernity’s multiplicitous “conveniences,” at least when it comes to food. We’ve gotten lost. Common sense has fallen by the wayside. How many people just throw out milk or eggs when the expiry date comes along, without even trying to see whether they might still be useful? Why not pay attention to what’s in the fridge or freezer and make use of it before it goes bad? When did finding new lives for leftovers become so lame?

Man, give me a shepherd’s pie any day.

*Click here for Ruskin’s original text.