Apologies for using a word I’m not particularly enamored of, but it best puts across the question, I think…when do you feel your most “cheffy,” or chef-like?
Is it before you ever start cooking, while planning a menu, perhaps, or meticulously shopping for just the right ingredient?
Is it when you’ve got the mise en place going, chef’s knife freshly honed on the steel and following your directions to julienne the carrots and chiffonade the basil?
Is it when you’re actively stirring and turning, wine glass in hand? Or maybe it’s when you finally sit down to enjoy the results of the whole experience, tucking into the perfectly-seared sauce-topped chop?
For me, it’s none of that. Instead, it’s when, due to whatever I’m making for the two of us, or some other circumstance, I remain in the kitchen, fix myself a plate, and have my meal there…just me and the kitchen.
Sometimes, it’s because I serve a salad as a first course, and I’m still cooking the main, so I’ll plate both our salads, then stay by the stove, tending to the next dish between bites of oil-and-vinegar-dripped greens.
It could be like tonight, where we had two different things; she wanted a certain sandwich, and I wanted to get through some fresh mozzarella, so I plated mine up (that cheese, along with crackers, salami and olive mix) and noshed on that while frying up hers.
Every now and then, though…I just like to stay in the kitchen, think about what I made, what I might do differently next time (or what I should remember to do the same), feel the still-warm stove, and just draw in all that kitchen energy.
That’s when I feel like I’m right where I belong.
How about you?
Is it before you ever start cooking, while planning a menu, perhaps, or meticulously shopping for just the right ingredient?
Is it when you’ve got the mise en place going, chef’s knife freshly honed on the steel and following your directions to julienne the carrots and chiffonade the basil?
Is it when you’re actively stirring and turning, wine glass in hand? Or maybe it’s when you finally sit down to enjoy the results of the whole experience, tucking into the perfectly-seared sauce-topped chop?
For me, it’s none of that. Instead, it’s when, due to whatever I’m making for the two of us, or some other circumstance, I remain in the kitchen, fix myself a plate, and have my meal there…just me and the kitchen.
Sometimes, it’s because I serve a salad as a first course, and I’m still cooking the main, so I’ll plate both our salads, then stay by the stove, tending to the next dish between bites of oil-and-vinegar-dripped greens.
It could be like tonight, where we had two different things; she wanted a certain sandwich, and I wanted to get through some fresh mozzarella, so I plated mine up (that cheese, along with crackers, salami and olive mix) and noshed on that while frying up hers.
Every now and then, though…I just like to stay in the kitchen, think about what I made, what I might do differently next time (or what I should remember to do the same), feel the still-warm stove, and just draw in all that kitchen energy.
That’s when I feel like I’m right where I belong.
How about you?