I grew up in a bit of an odd house. While most of my friends were diving into a pepperoni slice in their 8-10 year old years my family had a different tradition. Escargot. Every week my father would bring home 18 deliciously prepared (and then frozen) snails. We had the special dishes and utensils for plucking the juicy mollusks from their protective shell. For every six shells we cleaned and returned, we received a free snail. So every two weeks, we'd have 24 of these delectable creatures. I loved them. Friends of mine could not believe I could eat this.
Like everything you can't continue having the same thing every week for your entire life. The escargot soon lost it's luster and we moved on to sushi and sashimi. Each week my father would buy an assortment of sushi and a nice slab of sashimi grade tuna. I used to get excited as my mother or father would unwrap the paper to reveal the bright pinkish/purple meat. They'd delicately slice it into bite size pieces, perfect for dipping in a wasabi filled soy sauce bowl. This stayed a tradition for many years. Upon arriving in Westchester, things changes, and we switched Asian cultures and Chinese food became the norm.
My mother was also an incredible cook. On any given night we could expect paella, moussaka, sauerbraten, jambalaya, lobster or crab (which my father was allergic too, hmmm?). I had lamb more in a month than most people ate in a year. Growing up I had duck, squab, pheasant, quail, rabbit, haggis, mutton, and a few other not so every day items. I drank wine at dinner from the age of seven. I even had a special cup, which years later we found altered the taste dramatically. We always had gourmet cheeses in the house. Brie, Camembert, Saint Andre, Roquefort, Stilton, Port Salut, many varieties of chevre, well you get the idea. Sure we had breaded chicken cutlets or steak or pasta for dinner, but these don't hold much memory for me. To me pasta, while sometimes good, has always been quite boring.
So the groundwork was laid. I had become a food snob. Another factor was I lived in Brooklyn and my father worked in the city when it was affordable to go out to eat quite a bit. We went to fine restaurants and ate things that were delectable and it too opened my eyes to food. Moving to Westchester curtailed that enthusiasm quite a bit, because honestly, there aren't many really good restaurants, let alone great restaurants around. Those that are are so expensive, that I can't bare to imagine spending that much on a few spoonfuls of risotto. Even pizza in Westchester, for the most part is terrible. What most people think is good pizza, wouldn't be served to the pizzeria owner's dog in the city.
S0 in coming to terms with this food snobbery, I have definitely offended some. Obviously, I would never eat at someones house and complain, but I have noticed that traditional meals have gotten dumbed down, even the easy ones. Listen, I am by no means a chef. To be honest, I'm not even a good cook. I like to cook, I usually get flustered and screw up some step, but for the most part, I make above average food. Here's what I mean about insulting people. I live in Eastchester, which until the market changed was basically like living in little Italy. So why, can anyone tell me, have I made sausage and peppers a handful of times in my life and the very first time I tried, it was better than any person's house, any restaurant, or any deli's I've ever had? I'm not saying it always comes out perfect, but this was amazing. Why is it that my crappy meat sauce is better than any Italian grandmother's and the single best onc I tasted was made by an Irish guy. Although, technically a ragu. I just think somewhere along the way, people stopped caring about taste. Seems like quantity is deemed more important these days, even in restaurants. It's a shame, because with the same products used, a meal can be decadent or disgusting.
Now I admit, I'm not that educated in all fine foods. I've never had foie gras, or sweet breads, or tripe, or other various innards considered a delicacy. I do know what's good and then I have problems with some foods that are staples in our family upbringing and that gets me to the real snobbery.
Pot roast. For years I've heard the wonders of pot roast. My boss tells me weekly during debates that I have no credibility, because I dislike pot roast. My argument is that cooking a crappy piece of meat doesn't make it good, it makes it tender. Tender doesn't equal good. I also don't like stews for the same reason. Sure the broth, sauce, whatever you choose to call it has a nice flavor, but generally the meat is bland and chewy. Not something I desire. I also hate prime rib. I never understood this at a wedding. Why the heck would you serve roast beef at a wedding? That's what it taste like. Ironically I love cold roast beef sandwiches, but hate warm roast beef. Another food I hate that people adore are cherries. I despise cherries. I can't say why, but I gag thinking about them. Beets! Please just explain to me why they are good and you win a teddy bear. I'm sure there are plenty of other foods I despise, but many are because of bad preparation, not necessarily the food itself being bad.
I also think my food snobbery has allowed me to retry things and gain new respect as my palette has become more refined. There's a long list of things I adore now that I hated as a child - spinach, broccoli, mushrooms, brussel sprouts, pork and almost all fish (still not a salmon fan). I've only gotten into pork recently and it quickly became my nemesis in the kitchen. I could not cook it properly. Then I bought some beautiful bone-in pork chops, got the pan really hot, threw them in for two minutes, then flipped and put in for one minute, then turned the heat off and let them sit for about six minutes. The result was the most flavorful pork chop I've ever tasted. Perfectly cooked (medium, and yes that means a slightly pinkish hue). I had conquered pork chops, shared my technique, which I stole from someone, with my father and he agreed it worked. the key is patience. It's difficult to let something just sit in a pan when you are ingrained with the idea that it must come out once the heat is turned off.
Being a food snob, in my opinion isn't a bad thing. You can hold your burger cravings, your pizza selection, or your favorite cup of coffee to a higher standard. For example, I don't get burgers anywhere really but Piper's Kilt, because I don't think anyone holds a candle to them. I once had one at Donovan's in Queens, which year in and year out it's rated #2 (behind Peter Luger's) as best burger in NYC. I thought it was crap. Only burger that is as good and maybe better that I have tasted since moving to Westchester was the steak burger at Jake's in Riverdale. About twice as expensive as Piper's but delicious.
I could go on talking about food forever. It excites me, it gets me heated, it gets me mad, it make emotions come out that have been suppressed, waiting to be unleashed either with a grand appetite or an explanation of why or why not I like this or don't. I can't always afford the finer things in life, but I've experienced a plethora of fine foods. I realize everyone's tastes are different, but before you judge me, remember while you munched on a pepperoni pizza, sipping Sunkist from the bottle, laughing at those silly Muppets. I was dunking my baguette into the garlicky drippings left in the dish from my escargot, sipping a Beaujolais, listening to Vivaldi.
Like everything you can't continue having the same thing every week for your entire life. The escargot soon lost it's luster and we moved on to sushi and sashimi. Each week my father would buy an assortment of sushi and a nice slab of sashimi grade tuna. I used to get excited as my mother or father would unwrap the paper to reveal the bright pinkish/purple meat. They'd delicately slice it into bite size pieces, perfect for dipping in a wasabi filled soy sauce bowl. This stayed a tradition for many years. Upon arriving in Westchester, things changes, and we switched Asian cultures and Chinese food became the norm.
My mother was also an incredible cook. On any given night we could expect paella, moussaka, sauerbraten, jambalaya, lobster or crab (which my father was allergic too, hmmm?). I had lamb more in a month than most people ate in a year. Growing up I had duck, squab, pheasant, quail, rabbit, haggis, mutton, and a few other not so every day items. I drank wine at dinner from the age of seven. I even had a special cup, which years later we found altered the taste dramatically. We always had gourmet cheeses in the house. Brie, Camembert, Saint Andre, Roquefort, Stilton, Port Salut, many varieties of chevre, well you get the idea. Sure we had breaded chicken cutlets or steak or pasta for dinner, but these don't hold much memory for me. To me pasta, while sometimes good, has always been quite boring.
So the groundwork was laid. I had become a food snob. Another factor was I lived in Brooklyn and my father worked in the city when it was affordable to go out to eat quite a bit. We went to fine restaurants and ate things that were delectable and it too opened my eyes to food. Moving to Westchester curtailed that enthusiasm quite a bit, because honestly, there aren't many really good restaurants, let alone great restaurants around. Those that are are so expensive, that I can't bare to imagine spending that much on a few spoonfuls of risotto. Even pizza in Westchester, for the most part is terrible. What most people think is good pizza, wouldn't be served to the pizzeria owner's dog in the city.
S0 in coming to terms with this food snobbery, I have definitely offended some. Obviously, I would never eat at someones house and complain, but I have noticed that traditional meals have gotten dumbed down, even the easy ones. Listen, I am by no means a chef. To be honest, I'm not even a good cook. I like to cook, I usually get flustered and screw up some step, but for the most part, I make above average food. Here's what I mean about insulting people. I live in Eastchester, which until the market changed was basically like living in little Italy. So why, can anyone tell me, have I made sausage and peppers a handful of times in my life and the very first time I tried, it was better than any person's house, any restaurant, or any deli's I've ever had? I'm not saying it always comes out perfect, but this was amazing. Why is it that my crappy meat sauce is better than any Italian grandmother's and the single best onc I tasted was made by an Irish guy. Although, technically a ragu. I just think somewhere along the way, people stopped caring about taste. Seems like quantity is deemed more important these days, even in restaurants. It's a shame, because with the same products used, a meal can be decadent or disgusting.
Now I admit, I'm not that educated in all fine foods. I've never had foie gras, or sweet breads, or tripe, or other various innards considered a delicacy. I do know what's good and then I have problems with some foods that are staples in our family upbringing and that gets me to the real snobbery.
Pot roast. For years I've heard the wonders of pot roast. My boss tells me weekly during debates that I have no credibility, because I dislike pot roast. My argument is that cooking a crappy piece of meat doesn't make it good, it makes it tender. Tender doesn't equal good. I also don't like stews for the same reason. Sure the broth, sauce, whatever you choose to call it has a nice flavor, but generally the meat is bland and chewy. Not something I desire. I also hate prime rib. I never understood this at a wedding. Why the heck would you serve roast beef at a wedding? That's what it taste like. Ironically I love cold roast beef sandwiches, but hate warm roast beef. Another food I hate that people adore are cherries. I despise cherries. I can't say why, but I gag thinking about them. Beets! Please just explain to me why they are good and you win a teddy bear. I'm sure there are plenty of other foods I despise, but many are because of bad preparation, not necessarily the food itself being bad.
I also think my food snobbery has allowed me to retry things and gain new respect as my palette has become more refined. There's a long list of things I adore now that I hated as a child - spinach, broccoli, mushrooms, brussel sprouts, pork and almost all fish (still not a salmon fan). I've only gotten into pork recently and it quickly became my nemesis in the kitchen. I could not cook it properly. Then I bought some beautiful bone-in pork chops, got the pan really hot, threw them in for two minutes, then flipped and put in for one minute, then turned the heat off and let them sit for about six minutes. The result was the most flavorful pork chop I've ever tasted. Perfectly cooked (medium, and yes that means a slightly pinkish hue). I had conquered pork chops, shared my technique, which I stole from someone, with my father and he agreed it worked. the key is patience. It's difficult to let something just sit in a pan when you are ingrained with the idea that it must come out once the heat is turned off.
Being a food snob, in my opinion isn't a bad thing. You can hold your burger cravings, your pizza selection, or your favorite cup of coffee to a higher standard. For example, I don't get burgers anywhere really but Piper's Kilt, because I don't think anyone holds a candle to them. I once had one at Donovan's in Queens, which year in and year out it's rated #2 (behind Peter Luger's) as best burger in NYC. I thought it was crap. Only burger that is as good and maybe better that I have tasted since moving to Westchester was the steak burger at Jake's in Riverdale. About twice as expensive as Piper's but delicious.
I could go on talking about food forever. It excites me, it gets me heated, it gets me mad, it make emotions come out that have been suppressed, waiting to be unleashed either with a grand appetite or an explanation of why or why not I like this or don't. I can't always afford the finer things in life, but I've experienced a plethora of fine foods. I realize everyone's tastes are different, but before you judge me, remember while you munched on a pepperoni pizza, sipping Sunkist from the bottle, laughing at those silly Muppets. I was dunking my baguette into the garlicky drippings left in the dish from my escargot, sipping a Beaujolais, listening to Vivaldi.
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