As I've mentioned on past blogs I do not own a home or have an area in which to BBQ, but I love to cook. I would not say I'm a great cook, but I can hold my own. I tend to like things heavily seasoned and sometimes I go a little overboard. I've watched friends make burgers and see them take the ground beef, make a patty and place onto the grill or into a pan. I cringe, I cry inside, I want to grab them and strangle them. When I make a burger, I dice onions and garlic and add it to the meat. I add a nice splash of Worcestershire sauce, usually a little Sriracha, and then salt, pepper and some cumin. Sometimes I add oregano or a combo of Italian seasonings for some aromatics. I place my burger in a hot pan, sear both sides and either finish in the pan if thin or stick it under the broiler for maybe a minute. I like mine rare/medium-rare so the process goes quickly. I take the burger and place it on a plate and let it sit for at least five minutes to let the juices redistribute themselves. I usually place on a bun and top with either blue cheese dressing or crumbled Gorgonzola (other cheeses will do in a pinch) and tiny dollop of ketchup. I think I make pretty damn good burgers, but when it comes to grilling, I know the rules, I'm just not that familiar with doing it.
I recently went away with a bunch of buddies and every year one person takes charge of the cooking. He's very good at it, but we always have a little argument about steaks and it usually results in a battle of wills, which others find much hilarity in. Whenever we have burgers, I like to be the guinea pig and take the first one. Based on mine, he knows how much more to cook them, if at all. This year, mine was perfect. Charred outside, crisp outer layer with a center that still showed the bright pinkness of almost raw meat, but warmed slightly. I was a happy camper. Later that night, he cooked a steak. We had a big group of all-day drinkers, so a top notch steak wasn't that important. We usually buy a few steaks, which supermarkets love to call London Broil, even though LB isn't an actual cut. It's merely a thick flank steak. As the steak was coming off I begged him to let it rest. Another of our group looked in bewilderment and ask "why, he doesn't normally?" I explained he usually takes it off, cuts it immediately (incorrectly at times) and the steak is dry, with a grey ring and very tough. Another friend, who gets a kick out of this bothering me so much, kept laughing. For some unexplained reason, he actually listened this year and let it sit a good 8-10 minutes. Another guy cut it and it was hands down the best "LB" he's made in 10-11 years. Everyone raved about it. The next evening, everyone was a little more ravenous. Two giant flanks sizzled on the hot grill. Zucchini and squash bore the lovely grill marks too. Our chef, lifted the steaks up and quickly transferred them to a plate and ran off into the kitchen. I literally screamed "don't fucking cut them yet, let them rest." I peered through the window and could see him feverishly slicing the steaks. Perfectly cooked (had he let them rest), he sliced them into thick slabs, any which way. I was so upset. Everyone was bellowing with laughter and one person, with a red face, looked up and said "this kills you, doesn't it? I've never seen anyone get so mad at this and it happens every year!" It does. I hate wasting food and that is a waste. It tasted dry, it was unbearably chewy and a lot was thrown out. Now I know what people will say. They will ask why I don't take the reigns. The answer is simple. Most people don't like good food. They brag about grandma's tomato sauce or their father's grilling expertise, but the reality is, it's crap. I've had more bad meals that started with the line "my (fill in member of family)'s is the best you'll ever taste." You then spend the rest of the meal trying not to make eye contact with the cook. Kinda like the lines from Rapper's Delight.
It seems to me, the best amateur cooks are the ones who don't have a clue. The other night, with no real plan, I made my grandmother Tilapia Francese. Now I know normally this would call for a nicer fish, like cod or filet of sole, but I didn't want to spend the money and I knew if I screwed it up, it wasn't costly. I got lucky. The fish was perfect. A light crust, flaky, but juicy inside, on top of a bed of mashed potatoes with butter. The sauce (which I admittedly made the mistake of forgetting to return the fish to) was a little lemony for most, but worked perfectly with the mashed potatoes. My grandmother hooted and hollered about how perfectly the fish was cooked. I was pleased as well. I've made a lot of good things and I've incurred a few failures in my time. The one thing I've never done is let anything hit the pan unseasoned and I never under appreciate the ingredients. When alone, I will make sandwiches of nothing more than onions, tomatoes, avocado and lettuce, trying to make sure the slices are done so that one ingredient doesn't overpower the others. I know how they should be cooked and what is the desired result. Sadly, we live in a world of instant gratification and the masses are too impatient to wait for greatness, when mediocrity, or worse is at their fingertips.
I don't want people to get the wrong idea. After 10 hours of drinking, I appreciate anyone who is willing to man the grill. Chances are I'd forget it was hot after three minutes and the smell of burning flesh would end everyones hunger. It's not a matter of not knowing that bothers me, it's the rush. When I go out to dinner, I want to sit for an hour, maybe two if it's a fancier place. I don't care if I walk in at 7:00 and don't get my food until 8:00, it's not a problem. I'm out to enjoy myself. Food for me isn't only about sustenance, it's about enjoyment. An animal died for your meal, a plant was picked and someone took the time to combine the ingredients and cook them, so you don't have to. It's meat should be respected, appreciated and prepared in a way that makes it's demise, somewhat more noble. Fast food has killed this ideology, because the end result tastes so little like the actual animal, it's hard to correlate relation between what it is and what it tastes like. That's why eating wild game is so enjoyable. You taste not only the meat, but what that animal ate and maybe where they're from. The gaminess adds to the pleasure in my opinion.
Many of my friends tell me that they can't understand my love of lamb. I tell them it's because they've never had it done properly. A perfectly cooked lamb chop, is to me, the perfect dessert. A crisp skin, the sweet crunch of the fat, then into the meat, which is a lovely light pink (even better if it's more like fuscia). The juices reminiscent of the best candy you've ever had. I realize they don't understand, so how can I explain mutton to them?
I come off as conceited and snobbish, but the reality is, I enjoy a Whopper now and then just like anyone else. I love canned corned beef hash, swimming in my egg yolk with buttery, greasy home fries resting next to them. I like steakums with melted provolone and grilled onions, with the heartburn for hours after being well worth it. I like cold pizza with its congealed cheese sticking to the rubbery crust. I sometimes add hot sauce and blue cheese dressing to a pepperoni slice. Disgusting and delicious at the same time. I also love escargot in butter and garlic with a toasted baguette to soak up the juices. I like burger and dogless BBQ's which feature clams (last year me and two friends polished off 170 baked, steamed and raw clams) and ended with pulled pork sandwiches that cooked for ten hours, topped with cole slaw. I like bacon wrapped anything or a seared tuna steak with a bright purple middle with a little wasabi and soy sauce. I enjoy food in different ways than most. I take my time. I savor every bite. When it comes to good food, I'm never in a rush. Food to me is like sex and only those who don't appreciate it, who don't take it in with all their senses, rush to get finished.
I recently went away with a bunch of buddies and every year one person takes charge of the cooking. He's very good at it, but we always have a little argument about steaks and it usually results in a battle of wills, which others find much hilarity in. Whenever we have burgers, I like to be the guinea pig and take the first one. Based on mine, he knows how much more to cook them, if at all. This year, mine was perfect. Charred outside, crisp outer layer with a center that still showed the bright pinkness of almost raw meat, but warmed slightly. I was a happy camper. Later that night, he cooked a steak. We had a big group of all-day drinkers, so a top notch steak wasn't that important. We usually buy a few steaks, which supermarkets love to call London Broil, even though LB isn't an actual cut. It's merely a thick flank steak. As the steak was coming off I begged him to let it rest. Another of our group looked in bewilderment and ask "why, he doesn't normally?" I explained he usually takes it off, cuts it immediately (incorrectly at times) and the steak is dry, with a grey ring and very tough. Another friend, who gets a kick out of this bothering me so much, kept laughing. For some unexplained reason, he actually listened this year and let it sit a good 8-10 minutes. Another guy cut it and it was hands down the best "LB" he's made in 10-11 years. Everyone raved about it. The next evening, everyone was a little more ravenous. Two giant flanks sizzled on the hot grill. Zucchini and squash bore the lovely grill marks too. Our chef, lifted the steaks up and quickly transferred them to a plate and ran off into the kitchen. I literally screamed "don't fucking cut them yet, let them rest." I peered through the window and could see him feverishly slicing the steaks. Perfectly cooked (had he let them rest), he sliced them into thick slabs, any which way. I was so upset. Everyone was bellowing with laughter and one person, with a red face, looked up and said "this kills you, doesn't it? I've never seen anyone get so mad at this and it happens every year!" It does. I hate wasting food and that is a waste. It tasted dry, it was unbearably chewy and a lot was thrown out. Now I know what people will say. They will ask why I don't take the reigns. The answer is simple. Most people don't like good food. They brag about grandma's tomato sauce or their father's grilling expertise, but the reality is, it's crap. I've had more bad meals that started with the line "my (fill in member of family)'s is the best you'll ever taste." You then spend the rest of the meal trying not to make eye contact with the cook. Kinda like the lines from Rapper's Delight.
It seems to me, the best amateur cooks are the ones who don't have a clue. The other night, with no real plan, I made my grandmother Tilapia Francese. Now I know normally this would call for a nicer fish, like cod or filet of sole, but I didn't want to spend the money and I knew if I screwed it up, it wasn't costly. I got lucky. The fish was perfect. A light crust, flaky, but juicy inside, on top of a bed of mashed potatoes with butter. The sauce (which I admittedly made the mistake of forgetting to return the fish to) was a little lemony for most, but worked perfectly with the mashed potatoes. My grandmother hooted and hollered about how perfectly the fish was cooked. I was pleased as well. I've made a lot of good things and I've incurred a few failures in my time. The one thing I've never done is let anything hit the pan unseasoned and I never under appreciate the ingredients. When alone, I will make sandwiches of nothing more than onions, tomatoes, avocado and lettuce, trying to make sure the slices are done so that one ingredient doesn't overpower the others. I know how they should be cooked and what is the desired result. Sadly, we live in a world of instant gratification and the masses are too impatient to wait for greatness, when mediocrity, or worse is at their fingertips.
I don't want people to get the wrong idea. After 10 hours of drinking, I appreciate anyone who is willing to man the grill. Chances are I'd forget it was hot after three minutes and the smell of burning flesh would end everyones hunger. It's not a matter of not knowing that bothers me, it's the rush. When I go out to dinner, I want to sit for an hour, maybe two if it's a fancier place. I don't care if I walk in at 7:00 and don't get my food until 8:00, it's not a problem. I'm out to enjoy myself. Food for me isn't only about sustenance, it's about enjoyment. An animal died for your meal, a plant was picked and someone took the time to combine the ingredients and cook them, so you don't have to. It's meat should be respected, appreciated and prepared in a way that makes it's demise, somewhat more noble. Fast food has killed this ideology, because the end result tastes so little like the actual animal, it's hard to correlate relation between what it is and what it tastes like. That's why eating wild game is so enjoyable. You taste not only the meat, but what that animal ate and maybe where they're from. The gaminess adds to the pleasure in my opinion.
Many of my friends tell me that they can't understand my love of lamb. I tell them it's because they've never had it done properly. A perfectly cooked lamb chop, is to me, the perfect dessert. A crisp skin, the sweet crunch of the fat, then into the meat, which is a lovely light pink (even better if it's more like fuscia). The juices reminiscent of the best candy you've ever had. I realize they don't understand, so how can I explain mutton to them?
I come off as conceited and snobbish, but the reality is, I enjoy a Whopper now and then just like anyone else. I love canned corned beef hash, swimming in my egg yolk with buttery, greasy home fries resting next to them. I like steakums with melted provolone and grilled onions, with the heartburn for hours after being well worth it. I like cold pizza with its congealed cheese sticking to the rubbery crust. I sometimes add hot sauce and blue cheese dressing to a pepperoni slice. Disgusting and delicious at the same time. I also love escargot in butter and garlic with a toasted baguette to soak up the juices. I like burger and dogless BBQ's which feature clams (last year me and two friends polished off 170 baked, steamed and raw clams) and ended with pulled pork sandwiches that cooked for ten hours, topped with cole slaw. I like bacon wrapped anything or a seared tuna steak with a bright purple middle with a little wasabi and soy sauce. I enjoy food in different ways than most. I take my time. I savor every bite. When it comes to good food, I'm never in a rush. Food to me is like sex and only those who don't appreciate it, who don't take it in with all their senses, rush to get finished.
Comments
Post a Comment