In Defence of it All

I happened to be wandering about the blogosphere the other day and stumbled upon the tumbler blog of a friend of mine. Well. By friend I mean friend of a friend. That sort of person. We've met. He's nice. I like him. Very intelligent well spoken individual. Which is why what I read surprised the hell out of me.

LONG story short...due to some experiences he had he said, "I have already declared that none of my children will be allowed to work in the restaurant industry when that time of their life comes around."

I'm Hoping that he was saying this with his tongue firmly in cheek.

I'm Hoping that he was being more than a little sarcastic. As he's prone to be. And I'm willing to give him the benefit of the doubt here...because this statement was so out of character for him. On so many levels.

But I'm going to approach it on why it upset me.

If someone, namely my parents had said to me, you're Forbidden to work in the restaurant industry I would have missed out on a huge part of my self. And because of this world I worked in I learned skills that I was able to carry over into every other job I have had since.

Waitress: The organization needed to maintain 12 tables of hungry people, all at different stages of their meals. You learn to move quickly. You learn efficiency. You learn customer service or you don't pay your rent.

Line Chef: Again. Organization. Time management. Taking your day and breaking it down by tasks. And you'd better have your mis en place right or you are fucked for the night. Just like any other job. If you don't have your shit together for that meeting? Yah. And working as a team. Huge with this one. Learning how to take my 'stuff', leave it at the door and get the job done. Which was interesting, because generally, by the time the job was done...my 'stuff' had worked itself out. We didn't need umpteen different meetings and write-ups about it to discuss it.

Catering Chef: This can possibly be summed up with the title of my forth coming book "101 Uses for a Latex Glove". From Tourniquet to piping bag, I've seen and done pretty much everything with these handy buggers. But the underlying lesson? Creativity. Being able to look at an object and see dozens of uses for it. Who doesn't need to know how to McGyver their way through life?

The biggest lesson I carried away from my years in The Industry? Customer Service. Dealing with the public. Not just, 'Meh, customer service...'. Doing it well. Getting the details right. Understanding that when you fake it people can tell. And understanding that when you are on that side of the desk, or the kitchen, you have the ability to make, or ruin, someone's day. Yes. People suck sometimes. Hungry people with screaming kids in a foreign land with jet lag? Good times. But a genuine smile, followed by laughter and a box of crayons will get you quite far in this world.

Now, don't get me wrong. There is quite a bit wrong with The Industry. It is one of the most abusive, sexist, drug and alcohol infested work environments that I know of. I saw, heard, and experienced more shit then I care to remember.

But.

It is also one of the most diverse, accepting, hard-working and creatively inspiring professions I've ever been involved in.

So, please, my friend. If you were possibly even remotely at all serious about barring your children from this avenue of profession. Reconsider. I managed to make it through 13 years without being scarred for life. We aren't all degenerate psychos.

And Yes. My knife skills come in handy...but they seemed to be frowned upon at the offices I worked in...

Of Basil and Tomatoes

I was thinking today. Beside the fact that I'm still rather pissed that I can't figure out a way to grow mozzarella on a vine in my garden...

Summer is probably the season that I most look forward to Eating in.

The fresh fruits. Cherries in particular. Little nuggets of amazingness. I could literally eat my weight in them.

Fresh greens, from mustard to sweet spinach. Just walk out your door, mow your lawn and you have salad!

I love raw vegetables, or just slightly cooked...sauted, or steamed. And this time of year is when things are just starting to come alive. I so look forward to fresh peas, bush beans, and corn...oh the sweet corn. Raw on the cob! Or steamed with just the right amount of butter and salt. Lord help the person that tells me I have high blood pressure...

But the thing I look forward to the most...the thing that I covet...The One Dish I will NOT sacrifice, no matter how broke, homeless, or infested with zombies this world may get?

Caprese Salad. So simple. Six ingredients. That's it. But each ingredient is equally important. There is such a balance...that only the freshest will do. I will not eat this dish in the winter. As it will be crap. Tomatoes aren't in season in the winter. But Summer. There are dozens if not hundreds of varieties to play with.

So very hungry...

Personally, I love Brandywine. There's something remarkably fruity, yet very rich about this heirloom breed of tomato. And you have to get local mozzarella. Which, in Maine, is simple. Fresh fresh fresh. I try to pull my Basil right before I use it...so it's still warm from the garden. People don't seem to understand that when they keep herbs, like basil in the fridge they lose their potency. I have both black and Italian basil this year. But to be honest, I much prefer the Italian for Caprese.

Plating is very important for this type of salad. Traditionally Caprese salad is sliced tomato with sliced mozzarella, and chiffonade of basil. Layered. Visually it's stunning. But it also serves a purpose. You get every flavor in every mouthful. And if the chef has done her job and sliced things properly...the tomato and mozz to the proper thickness...nothing will overwhelm. Simple. Yet not so much.

Salt must be kosher. It has to stand up to the juiciness of the tomatoes, as well as the blandness of the mozz. Pepper will always be fresh ground. Olive Oil is personal preference. Myself, I go for the peppery ones. Something with a little backbone. And Vinegar. If you put vinegar on this salad. I would fire you. Gone. What do you need vinegar for? There's acid in the tomatoes. The salt will bring it out, the oil will blend, the basil will mellow and you have the perfect vinaigrette! Perfection!

Six ingredients. Probably one of the healthiest meals out there. Those Italians...they know how to eat.

Seriously. Why can't I grow mozzarella on some vine in my garden?

So...what seasonal dish are you willing to fight zombie infestation for?

V - Vino

Ah. Wine. The nectar of the gods.

I was going to write a post about what wines go with what foods...but that's really all a matter of taste. And far too pretentious. Bah.

Then I thought...I really want to write about my first experience with wine. Boring! Class in Culinary school. Yawn. It was really just "This is a red wine" *taste* "This is a white wine" *taste*. "Don't screw them up."

I think most people get their education about wine through just simply experiencing it. And there is simply no rule book that accounts for taste. You can enjoy a $2 bottle just as much as you can a $120 bottle.  In fact. When I had just graduated culinary school Bon Appetite did an article about Wine and wine tasting. They got 10 of the most renowned sommeliers in the country to do a blind taste test of something like 20 wines ranging from $5 to $150 a bottle. The results were kind of earth shattering. First off, some were having a hard time telling the difference between red and white. And then, across the board there was a bottle of 15$ Cote de Rhone that everyone absolutely LOVED. Above all else. Just goes to show. You never can judge by price.

I love stemless wineglasses even though they're kinda not 'right'

I love wine. The only thing I get snobby about is that it's not Merlot. Or White Zin. I've yet to have a good Merlot. White Zin is a candy wine only good to have with popcorn. (I'm not even kidding a little...try it...)  Other then that. I'll try anything once.

Corks Vs. Screw Caps? Meh. Screw Caps are gonna happen folks. They actually preserve the wine better then the cork used to. You get less 'corked' wine. So if you see the screw caps, it doesn't mean cheap wine anymore! Though I do miss using a corkscrew...something very satisfying about that whole ritual.

So just try wine. Don't be afraid. It's true what they say that wine can enhance the flavors of food. It's kind of amazing what happens when you find the right pairing. A great Zinfandel with just the right steak. A beautiful Viognier with an amazing bouillabaisse.

And hey, if you don't like it to drink it...you can always cook with it! Poach pears! Jellies and Jams! Pasta Sauce! The options are endless!

 Everyone should drink more wine...there would be less war.

**BTW...I have the first 400 of my WIP being critted over at Unicorn Bell today! Hop on over and check it out!**

K - King, Stephen

Or, possibly a better title would be “How I Totally Ruined My Writing Career Before it Even Got Started.”

Some things you should know before I start this post. I worked in the UMaine catering system for the entire time I was a student there, so I had the unique opportunity to meet several famous people in my four year stint. Stephen King is a huge supporter of the UMaine system, and every year they do several catered events with him. But one in particular is in his particular honor. This is the one I’m talking about. Other things you should know, I am not a big fan of S.K’s writing style. Or rather, to be fair, his early writing style as I’ve not read any of his recent stuff.  Also, I am a big dork. But this will come out on its own. On to my Story. All events are true. Really. I am this much of a dork. Also, sorry for the length, but hopefully it will be amusing...

So there I was, Senior in College. Minding my own business, working hard at the Stephen King function. Chopping Veggies for a crudite tray and thinking about the crazy assignment that we had due in our Modern English Lit class. I mean really, who studies Jack Kerouac and Stephen King in one semester. Gag. Hurl. The kitchen was fairly low key. All the food had made it upstairs, and now we were just doing a few back-up trays and trying to get a bit ahead on tomorrow's functions. When in walks this guy. Now, this isn’t a big deal. People walk in and out of this kitchen all the time. And this guy was no exception. Jeans, plaid kinda wrinkly shirt. But what was odd was he just stopped by my prep table and started chatting with me. Ummm. Weirdo.

    I was fairly sure he wasn’t from the function upstairs as it was a black tie. And nope, no suit. Definitely not a black tie type guy. And I swear to god if he keeps eating my prep work he’s going to lose a finger.
    “So.” He says, all casual like. “What are you going to school for?”  Which, if anyone has ever gone to college is THE most annoying question on the face of the planet.
    “English lit, creative writing. Fourth year.” I answered. Probably more abruptly than I meant to. But I was busy, I had shit to do! And he was eating my prep!
    “Really? That’s what I went here for. Which writers are you studying?”
    “Jack Kerouac and Stephen King. It’s been interesting.”
    “Interesting how? What don’t you like about Jack?”
    “Personally I think it’s a bit of ‘emperors new clothes’ syndrome going on with his writing. No one really understands it, but no one wants to admit it.”
    To which he laughs. And then asks.
    “Well, what don’t you like about King?”
    At this point my Boss came around the corner, heard the question and started making slashing motions across his throat and crazy eyes at me. I totally ignored him.
    “King? I don’t like him because all his characters are the same from book to book. Plot? Same. Every book I could tell you basically how it's going to start and end. There’s no real drive for me to give a shit about anything that goes on.”
    During this heartfelt rant this man’s eyebrows were getting higher and higher into his hairline and then when I was done he kinda coughs and says,
    “Well. I’ll keep that in mind the next time I write a book. Thanks.”

Oh yes.

He looks Nothing like his pictures.