Showing posts with label Anthony Bourdain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Anthony Bourdain. Show all posts

Monday, September 03, 2007

She Who Cooks

Mrs. Incredible was bemoaning her lack of skills in the culinary department. And she complained about having to clean up. I can totally relate to that latter complaint, although not the first.

I really love to cook. Wait, let me clarify: I love it when I have the time to do it, not when I'm running back and forth from stove to clamoring children, trying to keep them from beating each other to death with the wooden blocks. Then I get distracted and things get burned and I do things like adding 8 tablespoons of cayenne to a recipe when it only called for 8 teaspoons. Whoops. Little hot. Here, have some milk.

But given the time - actually, just given the chance to focus on the task at hand, I can whip up a very nice meal.

I miss that. I don't have the chance to focus on food or cooking right now. I don't know how some people do it. I read cook books the way some people read porn - you know, drooling and moaning and saying things like "Oh god, that look sooooo goooooood. Oh, I want some of that! Oh, baby, how did he do that?" I subscribe to Cook's Illustrated. I covet a subscription to Food & Wine and/or Saveur. I watch cooking shows like Hell's Kitchen, Master Chef Goes Large and The Naked Chef whenever possible. I'm obsessed with Top Chef, envying the contestants' opportunity to cook every single day. Sure, they have to please people like Tom Colicchio, Gail Simmons, and my imaginary boyfriend, Anthony Bourdain, but still. They get to cook.

Oh, Anthony, how I do adore thee. I want to get drunk and smoke cigarettes and cook things with you.

I worship at the altar of Alton, if I had a patron saint, it would be Julia Child and my most treasured possession is my Henckels 8" Chef's knife. If I were stranded on a desert island, I'd want that knife with me. I can do just about anything with that knife and I luuuuurve it. I dawdle over kitchen goods, stroking things and cooing, the way some women do in shoe stores (ok, I do it in shoe stores, too, but whatever. You can't eat a shoe.)

I have definitive opinions on food.

  • I believe in making my own stock.
  • I believe in trying new recipes.
  • I believe that a steak cooked any more than medium rare is a travesty.
  • I believe that chocolate (in any form), red wine and coffee make the perfect dessert. A sip of coffee, a bite of chocolate, a sip of wine. Lather, rinse, repeat.
  • I believe a perfectly good meal can be made of a baguette, a great cheese and a bottle of wine.
  • I believe in diner food and fine dining.

But I don't believe in cleaning up. That falls under my new creed: She Who Cooks will have Those Who Eat clean up the kitchen. Otherwise, She Who Cooks will not cook any more for Those Who Eat and Those Who Eat shall be left to fend for themselves, subsisting on meals of Hamburger Helper and Kraft Dinner. And, lo, She Who Cooks shall find Others Who Eat who will appreciate her talents, nurture her desires to Cook Good Meals and all She Who Cooks asks for in return is gratitude and a clean kitchen.

Just don't put the Henckels in the dishwasher, else thee shall suffer the wrath of She Who Cooks and lo, it will be a bleak and expensive day.