the whole experience has been overwhelming. as i wrote down previously, if only i had an automated keyboard that would capture my thoughts and blast it all down on twitter.
certainly it has laid to rest any doubts about wanting to be a chef. i am too small, too weak and too old to put up with the blasted heat, hauling heavy things and the daily injuries you get like nicks, scrapes and burns.
i've seen for myself my previous theory about why most of the chefs are men. because frankly, girly girls have no place prissing about in a kitchen - specially not one which aspires to the kind of standard that pearl does.
while i love food and cooking - i want to do it in my kitchen, at my pace, in my somewhat meditative state, at leisure. and i want to serve food to my friends and family who love me so much they always marvel and tell me how good a cook i am, even if i have oversalted or oversugared or overcooked a few things. that is how i equate food with love.
don't get me wrong - the food at pearl is also done with love, albeit a different kind. it is the kind of love that is about artisanal craftmanship. the same way back on the olden days when people planned and took the time to carve, to sculpt, paint.
working in the kitchen, is like working with a bunch of artists. there is nothing glamorous i think about a sculptor facing a block of marble and there is nothing gentle about a hammer and chisel picking away pieces of stone. but you are left in wonder after the sculptor is done with his finished statue. he will stand there covered in dust, his hands will be red and raw, callused and before him will stand david. it is the same will all the chefs in the kitchen.
their hands and arms are seemingly to me permanently red and raw. or swollen from being constantly in touch with water and heat. their arms all bear burns in varying states of healing, healed and new. they have this constant sheen of sweat on their brow. they stand at the pass calling out orders at the same time, while juggling all the different items coming out like veg and fish and meat and micro herbs and sauce. plating each item, carefully laying them on the plate one by one painstakingly - creating edible artwork. and every day they do it.
i swear, if anyone tries to be a smart ass food critic about the food at pearl - i will hurt them. no one is allowed to say bad things about pearl's food in front of me. they don't know what it took richard, leo, ben, mickey, sebastian, dane, andy, ben, sarah, shelley, simon, suren and chef to get that kind of food out. those who critique food who can't cook aren't allowed to be a critic.
i an very grateful to be allowed this kind of experience. it put me back in touch with that side of me which is in love with doing things that mean much to me.
in the midst of that whirling dervish of a kitchen it also allowed me to collect my thoughts and re-think what i wanted out of my life.
a kilo of grapes to peel and de-seed takes some time, delicate handling and much patience. while doing it i would drift away into my thoughts. one time, i thought about someone who i thought i wanted...until someone else came into my life with whom i could not explain this connection to that i felt. it is true you know - you will know what you want when you find it.
slicing two and a half kilos of jerusalem artichokes on the mandolin. i thought, working with my hands helped calm my mind and centered me better than two years worth of therapy did. it occurred to me, this is why people in the olden days never needed shrinks, they could sort out their thoughts while working with their hands. these days, we've stopped working with our hands because machines are now available for everything. so i've resolved, i will take the time out to doing something with my hands - food is my craft of choice and writing. what's yours?
cracking walnuts. andy needed them in perfect quarter slices. i realized, in order to get perfect quarter slices, you need to get the walnut out whole. which is hard to do if you have to crack them open with a hammer. you can't pound the heck out of the shell because that would result in crushed walnuts. so i learned to gently pound the shell to get many, many little fissures which i would then gently peel away and voila - perfect walnuts. i never got perfectly shelled, whole walnuts all the time. i did learn though as i went along that walnuts have this natural four lines that if you cracked the top and ends, the walnut panels would fall away easily. it occurred to me, things in our lives are like walnuts. nature has them perfect wrapped like every single walnut has their four paneled shells. but not every walnut can be cracked perfectly. this is why when you do get one perfectly cracked - it becomes worth every walnut imperfectly cracked.
sebastian also asked me to dice some ox tongue for him. i was caught up in other tasks so when i was ready, i went to him and asked him 'sebastian where's your tongue that you wanted diced?'. i wanted to laugh my head off after i said that but blessedly he's french. and he was overly, overly swamped with too many things to think of he didn't get the joke.
leo - the gentle giant of the kitchen. the one time i had to help him out was to help him make labels. please, he asked, can you write down for me on these labels four rows of the letter P in 5 columns. then G, then JG, then Q and so on and so forth. to make the job quicker, i challenged myself to think of words beginning with the letters i was writing down. P, P, P, P...penguin, pare, pear, paranoid, psychotic...then i started to think perhaps my word choices mean something psychoanalytically? G, G, G, G - gaga, lady gaga, gaga pa rin, gaga ulit...gaga ka...tumigil ka na mukha kang tanga tumatawa mag-isa....F - F, F, F, foker face..F,F,F, foker face....
i haven't cooked a single thing by the way since i started apprenticing at pearl.....
Friday 23 October 2009
Monday 19 October 2009
Kitchen Thoughts
(this is the obligatory food shot to give credence that this blog is not just about my rants but also about food. it has nothing to do with the thoughts written down in this post. i also had nothing to do with the food in the picture. this is Chef and head chef in action, and this is only a partially plated food shot. these people are AMAZING.)1. brunoise 3 shallots. this means ultra, ultra, fine dice. micro cubes. by hand. it took me an hour and the shallot dice was ten times larger than they should have been. and i sliced my thumb. ben brunoises the shallots in two minutes - ultra, ultra, ultra fine dice i.e. miniscule micro cubes.
2. clean cauliflower. this means separate the florets into equal sized portions the size of my thumb nail. and trim the stems. i try to do the damn thing and before i knew it, i had pulverized the two whole cauliflower heads and i had only three perfect florets to show for it. plus i stabbed my middle finger in the process. they never made me clean cauliflower again.
3. pick herbs. tarragon, mint, coriander and basil. basically the job is to pick the prettiest looking leaves and put them into tiny bowls. i was really, really, really good at this at the first try. this is why they make me do this everyday now. on my third day dane allowed me to finely chop the parsley. it usually takes him 2 minutes to turn the parlsey leaves into almost powder. it took me twenty minutes.
4. pick samphire. this is a weed which grows wild in the salt marshes which used to be poor people's food as anyone can forage for it for free. however, as the chefs have grown crazy about them, they have been elevated to designer swamp weed food status. it has a mildly, mildly, mildly salty taste. it looks like micro asparagus. basically i pick the nice looking ones and put them into bowls again. it's like being asked to go through this bunch of bermuda grass leaves and picking out the most perfect looking ones, of the same length and separating them from the ugly ones. again i am very good at this so everyday i do this.
5. peel and de-seed grapes. one kilo everyday. they must retain their shape and you have to keep as much of the white flesh on. they're muscat grapes and they taste amazing. i peel them one by fucking one. grape juice drips down my hands and knife handle and as they are amazingly sweet, turn my hands into one big sticky mess. to make the job quicker, i eat the really small ones and only peel the large ones of roughly the same size. and when i have only five left, i eat them all and declare the job finished.
6. segment oranges. i am really good at this. you peel away all the pith and peel and then go through the sections one by one to separate them. you must handle them gently lest they fall apart. this task will help you discover all the little stab wounds and flesh wounds you have sort of forgotten about. ditto when asked to squeeze lemons and limes.
7. make apple balls. first peel 12 apples. take a melon baller and turn out perfect apple balls. out of one apple, you will only get 8 balls. what do you do with the apples then that are left with all the holes? you eat them or throw them out. i eat one and then chuck the rest into the bin while praying 'please God forgive me for throwing away this food for they made me do it'.
(sarah the pastry chef plating the dessert. the apple balls are cooked in caramel)9. make ginger confit. slice the ginger into equal lengths. peel them and then again slice super thin with a mandolin. after that, slice by hand into perfect little strips half the size of a match stick. then blanch into boiling sugar syrup. then plunge into ice water. repeat process 7 times. then place ginger strips into container and cover with syrup. label properly. what do they do with the ginger? they place three of these strips onto the ice cream for one of the desserts. honestly i feel for ben and sarah - the pastry chefs.
10. wash off the salt and spice cure on the venison. with cold (i.e. freezing water) as the hot water will cook the surface of the meat which you don't want to do. doing this after peeling grapes will make your hands ache with arthritic pain. after thoroughly washing off the salt cure which takes about 5 minutes per surface of the meat, you have to pat the meat dry with paper towels. it takes about 10 feet of those damned industrial strength towels to dry them.
11. toast the bread. or flash it in the oven as they say. and rush the bread bin to the pass. i was alright at it and i have the oven burns on the back of my hands to prove it.
my feet feel like lead. my hands are covered with cuts, nicks and burns. and i still went back for the third day to face my first dinner service.....
i refuse to post photos of my kitchen wounds......
Sunday 18 October 2009
The Empress in the Kitchen
finally my fingers have stopped hurting enough for me to be able to sustainably type.
if you have been living under a rock the past few weeks, let me remind you that four days ago, i started work as an apprentice at Pearl - a french restaurant run by jun tanaka. i've been working there for four straight days and i've lost a pound since. the first thing you need to know about those chefs is that NO ONE eats or takes a break when they are working.
(this is shelley, shelling langoustines. she was also an apprentice like me but she's finished with her apprenticeship)
they work their ten, twelve or worse, 7am to 12 midnight shifts, on their feet, with only the occasional toilet break. they takes bites out of whatever it is they are cooking, slicing, dicing or pinches what the other chefs are preparing. if they are slicing carrots, they eat a few slices of the trimmings. from 630 or 7am, they are already slicing, dicing, sauteeing, grating, pureeing, braising, trimming, cleaning, sifting, baking and they end their twelve hour days day slicing, dicing, sauteeing....all they ever do is COOK and CLEAN. everyone cleans up after themselves - there are no people to hand you anything or clean up after you. you WILL get yelled at and WILL be told to eff off if you don't clean up after you.
my first day, first realization: dammit i am TOO OLD for this shit.
(this is sebastian, the french sous chef. Chef is in the background with Suren the chef de partie)
i had no expectations on my first day other than i would NOT be given a chance to cook anything or handle any of the expensive ingredients. i was fully expecting to be errand girl - like count apples, peel onions and garlic. and errand girl i was and continue to be and i am EVER so glad because i would either die of a heart attack or end up killing someone if i had to be put under the kind of pressure the chefs are under to deliver that kind of food.
one dish alone, easily has 20-30 different components. take the sea bass dish. it has fennel puree which is a separate recipe, cooked fennel which is flashed in the pan but must be trimmed and sliced properly, baby fennel which is again prepared and trimmed and cooked sous vide with herb oil (again a recipe), with a sauce which again is a separate recipe, foam which is another recipe, orange segments which are prepared by peeling and separating the orange segments PERFECTLY, crushed hazelnuts plus not to mention the sea bass which is gutted, cleaned and filleted into the perfect portions since the fish comes into the kitchen whole. and this is just one dish - the less complicated one at that in the different items on the menu. you don't want to hear about the partridge dish and what goes into it.
First day, second realization: I CANNOT COOK. You CANNOT cook. These people COOK.
all of these individual dish components must be prepped and done before lunch and dinner service because what happens during service is that the fish/meat get cooked and the vegetables done within two to four minutes by 2 sous chefs (one is assigned to fish, one cooks the meats, another the garnishes) to be plated by Chef (jun tanaka) and head chef (richard). the sous chefs hand the separate components of each dish to Chef and head chef at the pass, all in their correct portions, all perfectly cooked to be assembled or plated as they call it. the sous chefs HAVE to get it right EACH time because if Chef is not happy with how they are cooked, he will send them back to be re-done. this means, you will lose time and will back up the other orders AND you will lose one portion count which means if you run out of stuff while service is still on going, the whole team runs into trouble.
for every dish, it takes 8-10 people working separately on separate recipes for sauces, garnishes, marinades and prepping all the meat, fish and vegetables. and they do it ALL by themselves. all the meats and fish come as carcasses - the ducks come killed and plucked with their heads still on, the scallops are all in their shells which need to be cleaned, the potatoes still are dirty with their skins on. they do all the work themselves including Chef. they grab their own pans, haul stuff from the larder, run around like headless chickens, list down the items they are running out of to be ordered from the suppliers, cook, make their prep lists for the next day.
(this is Chef and head chef Richard plating at the pass)
First day third realization: I am TOO OLD, TOO SMALL, TOO SHORT, TOO WEAK for this gig.
on my first day, i was praying i would just get through the day without making myself look like a fool - don't slice any fingers off, don't drop any pans, don't burn yourself and make yourself useful.
within the first two hours, i sliced my thumb chopping shallots, stabbed my middle finger trimming cauliflower and burnt my fingers on the bag sealing machine. i also dropped the metal tray on the floor and in trying to save the bowl of stuff that the tray took down with it, screamed like the girl that i am. tray clangs to the floor in unison to the screams of the apprentice. nice.
First day fourth realization: Please God no more humiliation.
and then the second day came along.....
if you have been living under a rock the past few weeks, let me remind you that four days ago, i started work as an apprentice at Pearl - a french restaurant run by jun tanaka. i've been working there for four straight days and i've lost a pound since. the first thing you need to know about those chefs is that NO ONE eats or takes a break when they are working.
(this is shelley, shelling langoustines. she was also an apprentice like me but she's finished with her apprenticeship)they work their ten, twelve or worse, 7am to 12 midnight shifts, on their feet, with only the occasional toilet break. they takes bites out of whatever it is they are cooking, slicing, dicing or pinches what the other chefs are preparing. if they are slicing carrots, they eat a few slices of the trimmings. from 630 or 7am, they are already slicing, dicing, sauteeing, grating, pureeing, braising, trimming, cleaning, sifting, baking and they end their twelve hour days day slicing, dicing, sauteeing....all they ever do is COOK and CLEAN. everyone cleans up after themselves - there are no people to hand you anything or clean up after you. you WILL get yelled at and WILL be told to eff off if you don't clean up after you.
my first day, first realization: dammit i am TOO OLD for this shit.
(this is sebastian, the french sous chef. Chef is in the background with Suren the chef de partie)i had no expectations on my first day other than i would NOT be given a chance to cook anything or handle any of the expensive ingredients. i was fully expecting to be errand girl - like count apples, peel onions and garlic. and errand girl i was and continue to be and i am EVER so glad because i would either die of a heart attack or end up killing someone if i had to be put under the kind of pressure the chefs are under to deliver that kind of food.
one dish alone, easily has 20-30 different components. take the sea bass dish. it has fennel puree which is a separate recipe, cooked fennel which is flashed in the pan but must be trimmed and sliced properly, baby fennel which is again prepared and trimmed and cooked sous vide with herb oil (again a recipe), with a sauce which again is a separate recipe, foam which is another recipe, orange segments which are prepared by peeling and separating the orange segments PERFECTLY, crushed hazelnuts plus not to mention the sea bass which is gutted, cleaned and filleted into the perfect portions since the fish comes into the kitchen whole. and this is just one dish - the less complicated one at that in the different items on the menu. you don't want to hear about the partridge dish and what goes into it.
First day, second realization: I CANNOT COOK. You CANNOT cook. These people COOK.
all of these individual dish components must be prepped and done before lunch and dinner service because what happens during service is that the fish/meat get cooked and the vegetables done within two to four minutes by 2 sous chefs (one is assigned to fish, one cooks the meats, another the garnishes) to be plated by Chef (jun tanaka) and head chef (richard). the sous chefs hand the separate components of each dish to Chef and head chef at the pass, all in their correct portions, all perfectly cooked to be assembled or plated as they call it. the sous chefs HAVE to get it right EACH time because if Chef is not happy with how they are cooked, he will send them back to be re-done. this means, you will lose time and will back up the other orders AND you will lose one portion count which means if you run out of stuff while service is still on going, the whole team runs into trouble.
for every dish, it takes 8-10 people working separately on separate recipes for sauces, garnishes, marinades and prepping all the meat, fish and vegetables. and they do it ALL by themselves. all the meats and fish come as carcasses - the ducks come killed and plucked with their heads still on, the scallops are all in their shells which need to be cleaned, the potatoes still are dirty with their skins on. they do all the work themselves including Chef. they grab their own pans, haul stuff from the larder, run around like headless chickens, list down the items they are running out of to be ordered from the suppliers, cook, make their prep lists for the next day.
(this is Chef and head chef Richard plating at the pass)First day third realization: I am TOO OLD, TOO SMALL, TOO SHORT, TOO WEAK for this gig.
on my first day, i was praying i would just get through the day without making myself look like a fool - don't slice any fingers off, don't drop any pans, don't burn yourself and make yourself useful.
within the first two hours, i sliced my thumb chopping shallots, stabbed my middle finger trimming cauliflower and burnt my fingers on the bag sealing machine. i also dropped the metal tray on the floor and in trying to save the bowl of stuff that the tray took down with it, screamed like the girl that i am. tray clangs to the floor in unison to the screams of the apprentice. nice.
First day fourth realization: Please God no more humiliation.
and then the second day came along.....
Sunday 4 October 2009
Even the Delusional Get the Blues
so here it is, autumn. colder days, rain, earlier nightfall and with all those again come my blues.
don't ask me why i get it. its also a puzzle to me. don't worry - i'm not about to slit my wrists, bash my head in or jump into the river thames which is across the street. all three forms of suicide result in horrifyingly ugly cadavers and i'd rather live than have people's last memories of me when they view my body 'goddamn...she probably didn't take the three hours she usually takes in the morning before she decided to kill herself because man.....she's ugly'.
i want to die when i am 70 years old, having exhausted my plastic surgery fund, my vital organs deciding to stop on their own after i celebrate my 70th birthday having drunk more than my fair share of pink champagne, eaten foie gras and hunks of apple crumble and madagascan vanilla clotted cream ice cream. i'm going to be 70 and i will look as fantastic as that woman called tina turner who is really 80 but looks like she's 40 and has a boyfriend who's 20. dang......THAT is a woman. madonna - have you heard of her?
when i get the blues, i don't know what the hell to do other than crawl under the covers in my bed, lie there waiting til the cows come home, looking like a drowned rat and giving in to the crying spells that come. i used to castigate myself when i would get the blues - because i was demanding to know why they were happening. now, i just let it happen. there is a song that pink wrote. i love pink. her song goes 'nobody knows, nobody knows but me that i sometimes cry...'it occurs to me that sometimes, your body and your brain is telling you it needs to crawl under the sheets, lie in bed for two days and let the tears fall freely without burdening yourself with why this is happening.
i feel a little better now. so this week i ended up cooking a storm. i made apple crumble because apples are now in season. i can make this in my sleep.
APPLE CRUMBLE - pick the kind of apple you like. it can be granny smith if you like tart ones but i prefer red delicious or pink galas because they are sweet. whatever you do, do NOT pick the british bramley apples because they turn to mush when they are cooked. bramley apples are fantastic for apple sauce. apple crumble however needs chunks of cooked apple. core, peel, deseed and slice the apples to the size you prefer. i like them in biggish chunks. and you need to focus and work quick when you do this or the apples will turn brown if you leave them alone unpeeled for too long. you can sprinkle them with a bit of lemon juice but this makes them tart and i like my apple crumble sweet. then sprinkle over the apples some cinnammon, ground cloves, grate a bit of nutmeg over it, muscovado sugar, a bit of flour, half a scraped vanilla bean, a pinch of salt then toss, toss, toss and pour into your baking tin! then mix some fine ground digestive biscuits, rough chopped almonds or walnuts, oats and brown sugar. work in some melted butter until the mixture kind of looks like peas. sprinkle this over the apples. you want to have a decent amount of this covering the apples. bake for 45 minutes to 1 hour in your oven.
i don't have measurements. i just learned this by reading a recipe and experimenting. now i have my own version which i can churn out in my sleep because i've done it a few hundred times. if you love cooking like i do, you can experiment so you can eventually come out with your own. that's how i perfected my adobo. i make the BEST adobo. lilit reyes, my former creative director, who is utterly a brilliant writer and lyricist, who utterly hates my guts for his own personal reasons actually told me when he came over to my house in bangkok for lunch that i actually beat his mother's adobo. and she's from batangas. THAT is high praise. if someone who utterly hates your guts can say you trump their mother's adobo. i'll take it lilit. peace.
if anyone is interested in an apple crumble or adobo tutorial, let me know.
this week i also did my version of potatoes dauphinoise. or simply, potatoes sliced thin, baked in cream with garlic, seasoned with salt and pepper. i do the whole thing but i also use some fine mince onion with the garlic, lashings of salt and pepper then seriously strong, mature grated cheddar cheese. my version will horrify the true blue frenchman but my brothers, my nephew and my niece, when they eat it with roast beef or roast chicken, their eyes roll in their heads like the child possessed in the exorcist but in a good way. so even if i horrify frenchmen with my americana take on dauphinoise, my family loves it and that's all that matters. je suis plebeian d'accord?
i went to the supermarket today to do our regular shopping. i had nothing to do and i was tired of sleeping and i was feeling better too.
so i prepared the ground beef for meatballs for spaghetti with meatballs what else? you simply mix ground beef with salt, pepper, eggs, breadcrumbs, minced onion, garlic, oregano, parmesan cheese and fine chopped rosemary. roll into balls on a baking sheet and when frozen dump them in a bag. when it's time to cook, saute some garlic and anchovies in olive oil, dump in some canned tomatoes then add your frozen meatballs. simmer over slow heat for an hour. stir occassionally to make sure it doesn't catch the pan bottom. then serve over spaghetti.
that's the quick way to make it. i however, make my own tomato sauce from scratch. and i tell no one how to do it. i make my tomato sauce at three in the morning - bobby caught me once when he walked into the flat, drunk and happy at 3am and there i was cooking on the stove. he literally screamed at me 'WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING COOKING AT 3 IN THE MORNING?!!!'
that's what i do. that's what some delusional people do. specially the ones who every now and then get the blues.
don't ask me why i get it. its also a puzzle to me. don't worry - i'm not about to slit my wrists, bash my head in or jump into the river thames which is across the street. all three forms of suicide result in horrifyingly ugly cadavers and i'd rather live than have people's last memories of me when they view my body 'goddamn...she probably didn't take the three hours she usually takes in the morning before she decided to kill herself because man.....she's ugly'.
i want to die when i am 70 years old, having exhausted my plastic surgery fund, my vital organs deciding to stop on their own after i celebrate my 70th birthday having drunk more than my fair share of pink champagne, eaten foie gras and hunks of apple crumble and madagascan vanilla clotted cream ice cream. i'm going to be 70 and i will look as fantastic as that woman called tina turner who is really 80 but looks like she's 40 and has a boyfriend who's 20. dang......THAT is a woman. madonna - have you heard of her?
when i get the blues, i don't know what the hell to do other than crawl under the covers in my bed, lie there waiting til the cows come home, looking like a drowned rat and giving in to the crying spells that come. i used to castigate myself when i would get the blues - because i was demanding to know why they were happening. now, i just let it happen. there is a song that pink wrote. i love pink. her song goes 'nobody knows, nobody knows but me that i sometimes cry...'it occurs to me that sometimes, your body and your brain is telling you it needs to crawl under the sheets, lie in bed for two days and let the tears fall freely without burdening yourself with why this is happening.
i feel a little better now. so this week i ended up cooking a storm. i made apple crumble because apples are now in season. i can make this in my sleep.
APPLE CRUMBLE - pick the kind of apple you like. it can be granny smith if you like tart ones but i prefer red delicious or pink galas because they are sweet. whatever you do, do NOT pick the british bramley apples because they turn to mush when they are cooked. bramley apples are fantastic for apple sauce. apple crumble however needs chunks of cooked apple. core, peel, deseed and slice the apples to the size you prefer. i like them in biggish chunks. and you need to focus and work quick when you do this or the apples will turn brown if you leave them alone unpeeled for too long. you can sprinkle them with a bit of lemon juice but this makes them tart and i like my apple crumble sweet. then sprinkle over the apples some cinnammon, ground cloves, grate a bit of nutmeg over it, muscovado sugar, a bit of flour, half a scraped vanilla bean, a pinch of salt then toss, toss, toss and pour into your baking tin! then mix some fine ground digestive biscuits, rough chopped almonds or walnuts, oats and brown sugar. work in some melted butter until the mixture kind of looks like peas. sprinkle this over the apples. you want to have a decent amount of this covering the apples. bake for 45 minutes to 1 hour in your oven.
i don't have measurements. i just learned this by reading a recipe and experimenting. now i have my own version which i can churn out in my sleep because i've done it a few hundred times. if you love cooking like i do, you can experiment so you can eventually come out with your own. that's how i perfected my adobo. i make the BEST adobo. lilit reyes, my former creative director, who is utterly a brilliant writer and lyricist, who utterly hates my guts for his own personal reasons actually told me when he came over to my house in bangkok for lunch that i actually beat his mother's adobo. and she's from batangas. THAT is high praise. if someone who utterly hates your guts can say you trump their mother's adobo. i'll take it lilit. peace.
if anyone is interested in an apple crumble or adobo tutorial, let me know.
this week i also did my version of potatoes dauphinoise. or simply, potatoes sliced thin, baked in cream with garlic, seasoned with salt and pepper. i do the whole thing but i also use some fine mince onion with the garlic, lashings of salt and pepper then seriously strong, mature grated cheddar cheese. my version will horrify the true blue frenchman but my brothers, my nephew and my niece, when they eat it with roast beef or roast chicken, their eyes roll in their heads like the child possessed in the exorcist but in a good way. so even if i horrify frenchmen with my americana take on dauphinoise, my family loves it and that's all that matters. je suis plebeian d'accord?
i went to the supermarket today to do our regular shopping. i had nothing to do and i was tired of sleeping and i was feeling better too.
so i prepared the ground beef for meatballs for spaghetti with meatballs what else? you simply mix ground beef with salt, pepper, eggs, breadcrumbs, minced onion, garlic, oregano, parmesan cheese and fine chopped rosemary. roll into balls on a baking sheet and when frozen dump them in a bag. when it's time to cook, saute some garlic and anchovies in olive oil, dump in some canned tomatoes then add your frozen meatballs. simmer over slow heat for an hour. stir occassionally to make sure it doesn't catch the pan bottom. then serve over spaghetti.
that's the quick way to make it. i however, make my own tomato sauce from scratch. and i tell no one how to do it. i make my tomato sauce at three in the morning - bobby caught me once when he walked into the flat, drunk and happy at 3am and there i was cooking on the stove. he literally screamed at me 'WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING COOKING AT 3 IN THE MORNING?!!!'
that's what i do. that's what some delusional people do. specially the ones who every now and then get the blues.
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