Whats in the fridge?

   If you are like me at all, your refrigerator is in danger of bursting forth at any minute,  Gone are the days of a few beer bottles, half of a bottle of hot sauce and some leftover Moo Goo Gai Pan. Today I counted 28 condiments, 4 bottles of water, 2 beers, and 4 yogurts in the doors alone.  Twenty-eight condiments and not one bottle of hot sauce.  Nine different bottles of salad dressings, three that were homemade.  There are three different types of mustard, ketchup, mayonnaise, two jars of pickles, (one homemade), banana peppers, relish, soy sauce, kimchee, coconut milk, horseradish, and a jar containing two maraschino cherries.  Lastly, I located blueberry, strawberry and grape jelly, along with a mostly empty bottle of cocktail sauce.  Why?  Really, why the cocktail sauce?  I found ketchup and horseradish, and we always have lemons.  I could have made it.  Should have made it. Laziness, I guess, or possibly I didn't buy it, I really can't recall.    Also, nine salad dressings, really, why does anyone, not running a restaurant, need so many different salad dressings?  Why three types of mustard?   Finally, why the empty jars?   Who thinks to put an empty jar back in the fridge a good idea?  If you have kids you already know the answer to the last question. What's my point?

  Appetites, tastes, needs and wants and a lack of plan all contribute to the state of the fridge.  Some of these things can seem non-negotiable.  I must confess there are usually two jars of mayonnaise.  One Hellmans, my wife's favorite, and one Dukes, my favorite.  It's a Carolina thing.  The kids like yellow mustard, I prefer whole grain, or Dijon, depending on what I am eating.  My wife is forever searching for a new salad dressing but would prefer I make it.  The girls like ranch dressing, now and then, and for whatever reason, probably again laziness, I  also can't resist buying the newest flavor of a dressing, which always seems to disappoint, never gets used, and I won't throw away.  

   This excess of riches extends to the shelves and crisper drawers.  We have three types of milk, fresh squeezed orange juice, and V-8.   There are strawberries, blueberries, blackberries, and raspberries.  I often joke that if my wife quits eating berries, the berry companies everywhere will start complaining about their decline in sales, and we'll get a call.  You will also find that mixed lettuces, collards, spinach, arugula, grape tomatoes, lemons, limes, oranges, bell peppers, jalapeno peppers, zucchini, carrots, parsnips, broccoli, cauliflower and Brussel sprouts all have a place in the fridge.  We have chicken, ground beef, bacon and turkey bacon in the meat drawer.  Let us not forget about the assorted cheeses of feta, mozzarella, cheddar and bleu in the bottom drawer with the butter, salted and unsalted, one pack of lavash bread and corn tortillas.  Neither the lavash or tortillas should be in the bottom drawer, but they don't get used much, and there they are.

    You may ask yourself about the point of the fridge searching expedition.  Is it a confession of my disorganization, or maybe some guilt because of what seems to be an excessive amount of food and embarrassment of riches.  If so I never even got to the ice cream, frozen berries or pizza in the freezer.  I hadn't yet mentioned the apples, bananas, avocados, tomatoes present on the counter and the potatoes, onions, garlic and hanging sage and thyme I keep in a food closet, nor all the canned goods, cereals, flour, sugar, numerous oils, different kinds of vinegar or dried herbs and spices stashed all around the kitchen.

   No this is more of a demonstration and something for others to think about and even use for comparison.  Our family may be an extreme case, but I would bet most homes aren't that different.  I only shop for the four of us, but I swear there are many times I would rather be back at the restaurant, placing daily produce orders and doing a dreaded weekly inventory in places that we fed upwards of a thousand a week.  Why is that?  It's because when  I was running a restaurant I had a system in place.  I promise you I feel like I find more surprises and mystery food in my two door Whirpool refrigerator than I ever did in my 100 sq foot walk in.

    Let me ask you, when is the last time you cleaned out your fridge or pantry?  Do you really know what's in there?  I thought I did.  Then I found those nine bottles of dressing along with a year old bottle of homemade salsa that was a Christmas gift along with four different jellies and jams of unknown varieties, more Christmas gifts.

   So I have vowed to start treating the kitchen at home more like the restaurant.  I'm going to do an inventory of the fridge, the pantry and any food storage we have. I am going to create a budget based on a forecasted weekly menu.  Then I'm going to take a harder look at the dry goods and find a way to integrate all my older boxes of pasta, rice, grains, and canned goods into those menus to help me achieve that budget by using some of the creativity my wife likes to brag about.  When I have begun to whittle the inventory down I will begin practicing FIFO, (first in, first out) and make smaller purchases more often keeping just enough stock to get through a few days.   If done right these efforts should not only create more efficiency by lessening the clutter but should result in saving a few dollars along the way.   This is being the end of January,  I figured I might as well get started as we only have eleven more months til Christmas.  What's in your fridge?

Tonight I started my kitchen cleaning journey.   I used what we had available to come up with tonight's feature.  Confession, I did buy the shrimp, wife's request. 

 Shrimp and chicken fajitas w/ black beans, tomato, and cilantro pico and guacamole.
 Fajita vegetables-julienne two green and one each red and yellow pepper, and two medium onions slice 8oz. of mushrooms, and 3T chopped garlic clove, 1/4 bunch cilantro, chopped then set the vegetables aside- Lightly cover bottom of large skillet or saute pan with coconut oil, heat then add vegetables, garlic, cilantro and season with salt and pepper to taste  Cook vegetables through until onion is just turning translucent. Might be necessary to do half at a time and keep warm
Black beans- 2 cans drained, ends of peppers and 1 small onion diced, 1T chopped garlic, 1/4 bunch cilantro chopped, 1T cumin, 1/2t cayenne salt to taste-  saute garlic, onion, pepper, and cumin, add beans with 1/3 can water, stir well, cook for one half hour then add cilantro, cayenne and salt to taste stir well cook two more minutes and serve
Tomato and cilantro pico- one container of grape tomatoes sliced, 1/4 bunch of cilantro chopped, juice of two limes, 2T rice wine vinegar, 2t salt-  toss all together well and chill or set aside for 30 minutes to 1 hour
Guacamole- 3 to 4 avocados just ripe, 1/2 cup sliced grape tomatoes, juice of two limes, 1/4 bunch of chopped cilantro, 1Tcumin, 1/2t cayenne, juice of 2 limes, 1t salt or to taste.  combine all in a plastic container, glass bowl or crock.  Use a spoon to lightly cut up or mash avocado and combine

Shrimp are peeled lightly salted and pepper (used adobo seasoning) and cooked in a skillet.  Chicken sliced and lightly pounded seasoned with adobo and cooked in skillet whole then sliced to serve

The fajitas are plated with vegetables next to beans and chicken or shrimp.  The chicken and shrimp are topped with a little of the cilantro pico and guacamole and can be served with corn or flour tortillas if preferred.  Chopped cilantro and a squeeze of lime are a great way to finish the dish.

  

  



 

Honest Menus

   Restaurant menus.  What are we really looking at when they have been presented to us.  Some are straight forward while others are thick as bibles.  I tend to find most menus that I read a bit misleading.  The authors have taken quite a few liberties with artistic license in an effort to impress the public and show off food which may not be worthy of the descriptors.   Farm to table, artisanal cheese, locally sourced, confit, gastrique, aioli, coulis, gorgonzola cheese, free-range chicken, Faro island salmon, Hudson Valley foie gras, Olympic Peninsula steelhead trout, Benton's bacon, Grainger County tomatoes, dry aged steak,  she crab soup, crab cakes, fresh fish are just a few of menu claims I have been suspicious of, doubted or know for a fact were false.

  My wife calls me the jaded chef.  This probably describes many an old cook or chef.  If you have spent any time working in a restaurant, you understand a bit about smoke and mirrors and bait and switch that can go on.  You also understand the multitude of tasks that need to be accomplished to run a decent restaurant.   Therefore, because of my lengthy experience toiling in both the back and front of the house, I think I might have a more discerning eye than most.  I see things most don't.  I call it restaurant vision.  It is almost like a super power. One that my wife probably wishes I didn't possess.   It can turn what should be a perfectly lovely evening into an exercise in criticism and sarcasm.  I just can't seem to help myself.

  It starts from the moment I walk in the joint.  Are we welcomed with a smile?  Were we seated quickly, and shown to a clean table?   Or, are we waiting around while the hostess is polishing her nails, updating her Instagram and flirting with the bartender?  Is the waiter dressed in some kind of clean, well-kept uniform even t-shirt, so I know he/she is a waiter?  Or do they look like they just got out of bed in their wrinkled hipster garb, skinny jeans, and messy man bun?  Do they greet us right away with a drink order, and inform us about tonight's features?  Or are we scanning the scene, trying to decide which non-uniformed, hipster to ask for a menu and ice tea?   Do they use a pen and pad while taking the order or believe they can remember the varied requests of a six top?   Are the silverware and menu clean, are their napkins on the table?  Did the condiments get refilled, and the crust cleaned off ketchup bottles?  Are they using generic or branded sugars and sweeteners?  Is their background music playing? (one of my pet peeves)  Or is the place funeral home quiet?  Worse yet, is their network news or Dr. Phil blaring from some unseen television.?

   I take notice of all of these things and more before I have even looked at a menu.  Most are accomplished with some degree of effectiveness in successful venues.  It is easy to spot a struggling restaurant by the lack of attention to details that matter.   I have learned to forgive many front of the house transgressions if the food is good enough and the staff courteous.  The exceptions to that forgiveness, are the aforementioned ambiance and a lazy, presumptuous, ill-designed and lying menu.

  What I mean by a lazy menu is a lack of thought or research.  It's a copy cat of what has worked in another popular place.  It is an unoriginal, uninspired work of plagiarism from the Shrimp Vera Cruz and farm to table catfish to the .99 included in all the pricing.

  What I mean by presumptuous is two-fold.  The first part of it is that the restaurant owner fails to recognize their demographic and presumes that potential customers will be happy with high standards that don't allow tomatoes being served unless they are in season.  They don't recognize the risk they take of losing an embarrassed and pissed off customer who felt chided by the server because they asked for a slice of tomato to go on their sandwich.  The server, not only seemed to scorn them for ignorance but also because of the thought that they would actually eat a tomato in December.  The second part of the presumption is when they use words like confit or the trendy sous vide in dish descriptions, but never educate the staff on what that term really means, or how the chef may have tweaked the classic method possibly ignoring it altogether in their execution of said dish.  It may only be on the menu because it sounds good!

   Ill-designed menu flaws can range from organization and placement to spelling errors or just an overabundance of food choices.   It is really hard to produce an extensive and varied menu and do it well.  Recently I was scanning a four-page menu for what seemed like 15 minutes.  I was already getting irritated by the potato(e) au gratin, tomato(e) salad, and could not find soup anywhere on the menu so I ordered their classic Caesar which was spelled Ceasar.  Then a few minutes later imagine my surprise when I see the gentlemen in the booth across from me enjoying a bowl of what looked like delicious clam chowder.  To make it worse, I had asked the waiter about soup, but pretty much received a blank stare and shoulder shrug.  I guess sometimes yelp reviews can be useful.

  Now some of this may sound like nitpicking and I am actually pretty patient and forgiving having been there myself, but where I draw the line and start the sarcasm is the blatantly false claims made on menus.  I know if I were to walk in the back of most any kitchen claiming to serve San Marzano tomatoes, I would find ordinary plums.  If Gorgonzola is the description for the bleu cheese on the salad, it almost assuredly came crumbled in a 5lb bag with the purveyor's name and not from Northern Italy.  The Apalachicola oyster appetizer may have come from Florida, or North Carolina, or Georgia.  The menu might go as far to describe any Atlantic salmon it offers as Chilean, Scottish or even Faro Island salmon and is most often farm-raised and not wild. Did the crab cake taste overly sweet like it could be cut with surimi (fake crab)?  I have even seen a menu entry of Krab cake, which meant no real crab may be present in the recipe.  A b.l.t featuring the revered Grainger County tomato and Benton's bacon might actually be using neither. She-crab soup most likely uses tomato instead of roe (which can be impossible to come by) and I have seen countless remoulades that have no resemblance with the classic or each other.   These misrepresentations are just the tip of the iceberg and I'm not talking about the lettuce. 

   Does any of this really make a difference?  Well to some it obviously doesn't.  Many places are banking on the public not knowing how to tell apart, $4 a pound farm raised tilapia and $18 a pound fresh grouper.  I mean they are both white and flaky, and a restaurant may even purchase fish that verified as grouper, but not a type of grouper you and I would be familiar with.   They are hoping you have never eaten a properly dry aged steak.  If not how could you possibly tell whether your ribeye of choice, is a select or choice grade, much less the prime advertised? If you ever questioned that your steak was really center or hand cut, you were probably right to do so.  It also might be hard to believe that so many different ingredients on the menu can come from so many places.  Most often they may not.  When ingredients play a small part in a dish, then a chef might decide to embellish a bit, like referring to a poblano pepper as a Calabrian pepper when describing it.  Often, the way a dish is described and presented has a lot to do with how much you might enjoy it.  It's all kind of, mind over matter.  If you don't mind, it don't matter.

  The truth is, it might not matter.  As long as you have enjoyed the food and had a good dining experience, the restaurant and even, you the customer, may think, what's the harm?  Plus you might have gotten a kick, oohing an awing, over the glorious sounding descriptions of selections presented.  To me, though, I want my restaurant to be honest with me.  I look for truth in my menu.   If you look long enough,  you will find more than a few that are truly great at that.

   We have a local Italian restaurant we enjoy. They make their own pasta, craft their own sauces, butcher their own meats, partner with local farms when they can and stand by their ingredients.  It is a fairly simple menu, straightforward in its approach and consistent on its delivery. The chef will text me if he has lamb, visits the table when we dine and has at different times, invited me to tour the kitchen and see what he's preparing.  He is proud of what he does, and it shows with the food he produces.  We eat there almost weekly and I am making my way through the menu.  I have a few favorites like the Shrimp with polenta, Pork Saltimbocca and Lamb ravioli, which was run as a feature.  Like all the menu items they are presented beautifully and are delicious without being overwhelming.  The thing that I like best about our local pastaria, the chef, his features and the menu are the same reasons we keep going back.  It's that they are honest.

Cioppino, soup for the soul

 

Soup is food for the soul. Soup might be my favorite food.  I can eat it at any time of the day.  Pad Thai for breakfast, tomato bisque at lunch and beef stew for dinner. Soup can be as simple and straightforward as a cup chicken broth or as complex as a duck consommé.  Soup can be creamy, brothy, or noodly if those are words. It might be meat-based or vegetarian.  It can be served hot or cold.  Soup may call for spices from cumin and coriander to nutmeg or turmeric.  It can make use of herbs like cilantro, basil, and oregano.  Soups vary as much as the cultures they stem from and can be the most versatile dish in a chef's repertoire, highlighting their skills and testing their palates.

  I have yet to meet a soup I didn't want to try and recreate.   I think my two biggest strengths in the kitchen, are my skills as a saucier, and the ability to make a good soup out of just about any ingredients given.  However, the soups I like best of all have seafood.  My favorites include she-crab bisque, crawfish gumbo, and Ocracoke style clam chowder, but my wife's favorite is the one I am making today, cioppino.

   Cioppino is said to be the creation of Italian fishermen in the San Francisco area.  The word either comes from a Genovese fish stew called ciuppin or possibly an Italian-Americanization of chip-in,  Either way like many dishes it seems to be born out of necessity and using what was available.  It is pretty simple to make, tastes delicious,  and can be easily adapted.  I have seen quite a few recipes and the base is the same.  Garlic, onions, celery, canned tomatoes, broth, herbs with the addition of seafood, (mussels, shrimps and/or scallops, calamari, white fish, and/or Dungeness crab).  My personal thoughts on the way to make this dish really special are by making your own fish stock.  Then I like to add fennel and carrots, and abundance of oregano and thyme to finally finish with fresh basil, right after plating and just before serving.  When done right the flavors dance of your tongue and the aromas have you fighting off unwanted lid lifts. 

   The seafood may be the star of this fish stew but the stock is the key.  Good stock serves to enhance whatever dish it is involved in.  I suggest making your own when you have the time. You can even freeze it for later use. Sometimes I'll buy a whole fish when available, a small red snapper, or grouper. I will filet it out then use the head and bones for stock  I will most often buy lb of med shell 36-40 shell on shrimp for the dish,  peel them and use the shells for the stock.   This is done by sautéing the shells in butter with, 1ea cup of rough cut onions and celery (it's okay to use the stems and the ends).  Deglaze the pot with 1/2 cup white wine reduce by half, add 3 quarts of water, a tablespoon of tomato paste, 1T salt, 1t peppercorns, a bay leaf or two and bring to a light boil then reduce to simmer for about 1 hour reducing by 1/3, remove, strain and store.

    If I was out on the island I could call cousin Charles or Farris for fresh fish or run by the fish house where there are plenty of daily choices for my wife the pescatarian.   Living in Tennessee, fresh seafood can be a challenge.  I've had some luck at Whole Foods and Publix which both have pretty good seafood programs.  They will even order the fish for you, though it can be pricey. The good thing about this dish is the seafood can be easily changed, left out or substituted.  My wife and daughter love mussels but I prefer clams and sometimes use both.  Many of the other ingredients like shrimp, scallops, and crab are much more readily available nowadays.  I rarely add crab.  Most recipes call for or mention Dungeness crab, not readily available in my area. I prefer the sweeter blue crab, which can be found in cans at most grocery stores, but for the price, it doesn't usually make its way to our cioppino pot. For the fish, you can use snapper, grouper, mahi, even tilapia.  I stick to using white fish and try to avoid tuna, mackerel, and salmon as the dish should be more subtle and those fish flavors can overwhelm the stew. I like to use fish in the cioppino whenever possible.  It is, after all, a fish stew, but if the fish is hard to come by and doesn't fit the budget, I will leave it out altogether.  The dish is sure to still please.

   Tonight, for example, I made a small batch cioppino for two. I bought l lb mussels, 6 scallops, 8 shrimp and 3 oz calamari.  A little more seafood and it could have easily fed the family, and notice no fish,  but the girls wanted beef stew.  Long story, another blog.  The stew or base was made in a 1-gallon stock pot by sautéing 1 diced onion, 2T chopped garlic and a small bulb of fennel, diced, in olive oil.  I then added 1 cup of sauvignon blanc, reduced by half, threw in 1 24 oz. can of diced tomatoes, 2T dried oregano, 1T dried thyme and 2 quarts of ready-made stock and brought to a simmer then cook for 30-45 minutes. Lid and set aside. ( large T -tablespoon, small t-teaspoon)

   At this point depending on the size of the scallops and shrimp and portion to serve, you could place seafood in the stew at a simmer and cook for 3-5 minutes turn off, then ladle in bowls, garnish with fresh herbs and serve.  But, because of different cooking times and for a little more flavor, I start by searing the scallops in a large saute  pan or skillet, turning then adding  a little-melted butter, 1Tof  garlic, clams, mussels, cut up fish, shrimp, and calamari in that order, a splash of white wine, toss then ladle 2 cups stew from large pot over and cook for a few minutes, add fresh herbs.  Tonight I added a  chiffonade of basil and fennel leaves, tossed and placed in a bowl and presented to my lovely wife.  Although she is eating less bread, I would prefer to serve with a warm, crunchy baguette. The bread always helps me get every last bit of goodness out of the bowl.

    Everything turned out great. The wife was raving about the cioppino until bedtime and the kids were happy with their beef stew.  Like I said, different blog.  But because I didn't need both quarts, it left me with a base that I will serve later in the week, and if I want, can turn into a whole different dish or buy whatever fresh seafood is available on that day, and introduce to the base to serve it again.  A couple of days in the refrigerator will only serve to enhance the flavor of the base.

   One of the things I really love about making this dish or any soup is how it can be left up to your interpretation, and changed by season or mood.   With the seafood base I have, I could just add all clams, chopped and whole, add some potatoes and maybe even bacon and turn it into a Manhattan clam chowder. I could make a dark roux, then cook up some andouille sausage, shrimp and okra, with a little cayenne and have a decent gumbo.  If I  wanted to make my daughter ecstatic, I might puree the stew, thicken with a roux then add cream, a little lump crab, and a touch of sherry for bisque.  I could even use the base for a dish I just started making called shrimp jalfrezi. I would adjust by adding bell peppers, jalapenos, cumin, coriander, and cinnamon, then serve over rice.

      These aren't exact recipes.  They do have classics in mind and they show how versatile one recipe with some consideration can become. They make the thought of cooking something new, less daunting if you are just a little familiar with the basics. They are great starting points and good reference material that will yield some really tasty food.  There is science in cooking, but cooking is not science or brain surgery for that matter. I had an old chef tell me that time and time again. He would say, "It's just food and beverage, don't make it complicated."  Good food and cooking is more art and feel, and many times, trial and error.  There is no reason not try cooking something new.  Then with a little knowledge, you can have faith in the outcome.  So find some inspiration, try something new, in the kitchen at home, experience something beautiful, something you can use to impress or share.  If you do give in to this course of action, remember cioppino. It's warm, it's delicious, it's fairly easy, a good place to start, and it's soup for the soul.

                                           

F*** Gordon Ramsay

   Cooking shows.  Do you watch them?   A friend asked today.  Not so much I replied, as I felt my blood begin to boil.  He said, "I like Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives."  I felt my pulse slow.  Yeah, I replied, "I've seen it."  It's one I actually enjoy. You get a glimpse into the back of the house.  It has a feel of authenticity.  I can actually believe they are producing the food and Guy Fieri doesn't seem to take himself so seriously.  Also, he used to wait tables at a buddy's restaurant out in California, so it's like a six degrees of separation thing.  There are a few others I turn on from time to time. Guy's Grocery Games, because it's pretty inventive and funny.  Good Eats with Alton Brown because I always feel like I might learn something from it.  Bizarre Foods with Andrew Zimmerman, and Parts Unknown with Anthony Bourdain, both make me want to renew my passport.  Then my friend asks, "What about Gordon Ramsey?"  My reply simply is, "F*** Gordon Ramsay!!"

  Look it's probably not rational.  I hate Gordon Ramsey for a lot of the same reasons I hate Tom Brady. They are both good looking dudes, who are great at what they do, make a lot more money than I ever will, all while making it seem so easy. Plus, Ramsey actually reminds me of how I used to act in the kitchen.  He's a prima donna.  He gets in peoples faces,  yells a lot and act like he knows better.  He probably does.  I just recognize that kind of crazy and there wouldn't be enough room in the kitchen for the both of us, and I'm pretty sure I'm the one that would be 86ed.

  Still, there is something more. If it is real, on his show, he is the guy who gets to save the day. And it's the way they go about it that drives me insane.  He and his crew come into these struggling, and sometimes, going out of business restaurants and highlight the worst possible scenarios, then humiliate the owners and staff.  Granted, the masochistic proprietors have offered themselves up in what seems like a last ditch effort to save their livelihoods.  They have humbled themselves before the great Ramsey and have promised in return for his input, wisdom and let's be honest, money, they will change their ways and run their establishment in a way he would approve.

   What I question most about this transaction is, at what cost does this forgiveness come, and what part of the story are they not telling?  Like, how exactly did they get here?  How did things get so bad?  Some of it may be Hollywood, but I feel like there is something I know that others don't.  I have been in that kitchen.  I have walked that line.  I have witnessed that drama, it's real and I know where it's headed.  I have never experienced a panic attack, but sometimes watching these shows I feel like one is coming on.

   Anyone who has ever dared to open a restaurant will tell you that it was never part of their dream to have a rat run over Ramsey's foot on network tv in their kitchen.  They would have been mortified if they'd know Gordon would be turning up his nose at their grandma's secret sauce, or if they had to hear it from Chef G that their bartender was stealing them blind.   They would never believe they would have sacrificed the quality of their food to stay open until they were watching the video playback of cooks complaining about using out of date and subpar product.  Ask yourself.  How proud would you be if Gordon stopped by your home unannounced to film what he found in your kitchen and refrigerator?

  It's his seeming lack of empathy that gets to me.  These places didn't get that way overnight.  It took a lot of empty dining rooms, a lot of refinanced mortgages, emptying college funds and IRAs to be able to say, enough.  The business looks easy enough.  All you need to do is find a decent location, serve good food and treat your customers well then you can retire after all that money starts rolling in.  Open it and they will come.  Except they don't.

  After years of thinking about starting something of your own, you finally make that leap, then pour your heart and soul into it.  You know you have great food because you have heard it from so many.  You employ a decent staff. They're clean, smile at the customers, barely smoke out back, and mostly show up on time.  Yet your barely a year in, and are struggling to keep the doors open. You start going to Sams instead of Sysco for food, you have maxed out your credit cards to pay the cooks. Waiters are jumping ship for somewhere they think they will make better tips.  Your less than stellar last health inspection just posted in the local paper. Your behind on your taxes. Your working 16 hour days and drinking more than your selling, and you can feel it slipping away.  You tell yourself if you just make it to Valentine's day, that will make the difference.  Then in swoops Ramsey.
  He gets to come into lives at their most vulnerable and highlight this tragedy in exchange for hope... and ratings.  Don't get me wrong it makes for some compelling drama and great tv.  I just don't believe that it does these dreamer's justice.  Because that is the real story here.  The dream so many Americans have to build a business of their own.  A gamble for sure, but a risk worth taking because it is something to be proud of, maybe even pass on.

  We look at restaurateurs and think of all the money they must be making and ay to ourselves, "This is something I could do."  We love to go into a place where we know the owner and the chef walks out to our table. We brag about this relationship to our friends, and secretly wish that was our place. There is a certain amount of cache about it.  We think, that could be me.
  Then we are out driving one day and notice a once popular local bistro is up for sale.  We google it.  It's turnkey, still has running equipment and only in need of a new coat of paint, some elbow grease, and a little love. We call the realtors, the price is negotiable, the current owners really want to work with us and would even consider a lease option.  This is something we have pondered a while.  We think about the last time we had a group of friends over for a barbecue.  They all loved the food and asked for recipes.  How many times was I told, you should really open your own restaurant.  We arrange for a walk-through and immediately fall in love with the place.  The thought of finally working for yourself and romantic notion of being that guy who owns a restaurant are all running through your head as you sign the deal to make the bistro yours.  It's a rush. It's that rush that keeps you going until you realize, maybe I didn't think this through.

    Most new restaurant owners fail to do the real legwork.  They don't develop a business plan or informed budget before jumping in.  The never do the research into the real cost of running your own business. They use the profitable numbers from the previous owners and never run their own, or find out what caused the restaurant to shut down in the first place. They review the overhead, the fixed costs, like rent, gas, electricity, and water.  However, demographics, advertising, insurance, taxes, waste, spoilage, breakage, theft, cost of paper goods and fluctuating food prices are all things that are often overlooked or given just a cursory glance.   They never recognize the consequence of not having enough capital and reserves or just don't know what those real numbers are.

  The truth is that nearly 60% of newly opened restaurants fail in the first year and about 80% within the first five mostly due to this lack of research.  I had one of them, and I had spent a good part of my life in the kitchen and thought I knew the ins and outs of the business.  It's heart-wrenching to see something you worked so hard to breathe life into, slowly die.  I've seen both sides of this equation play out.  I have been on both sides and know what it takes for something to work or go horribly wrong.  I have known many who, like me, decided this was the life for them and dove headfirst into the restaurant business.  I know a few of them have been successful, others are making a living, but the majority are still struggling today to keep those doors open.  I don't know of any holding out hope though, waiting for the great chef to come and save them, but if they are, I do know he can't get to them all. So because of that, I say "F*** Gordon Ramsey!!!"

Tonight's dinner for your consideration was a vegetarian cassoulet.  Cannelini beans cooked slow with sautéed garlic, diced red bell pepper, caramelized onions, and sliced carrots.  Then finished with shitake mushrooms, fresh rosemary and chopped scallions served with my wife's favorite sautéed spinach.  She was happy.  Happy wife, happy life!!

Leftovers

   Leftovers. Clean out the fridge day.  I have heard it referred to as "cream of the 3rd shelf" when talking to restaurant cooks about their plans for Sunday brunch.  "What's for dinner?"  The children ask, then roll their eyes and implore.  "Can't we just order pizza?" All because of those dreaded words "leftovers."

  I have witnessed the same confused and disappointed look on a Sunday brunch patron as they gaze into the chaffer that is labeled Shrimp Tetrazzini or Seafood Newburg.  As they are questioning the validity of the claim, and searching for the seafood, they are thinking, this looks a lot like the Coquille St. Jacques last week when I couldn't find the scallops, and they are right! 

   In a restaurant, the most successful managers develop a plan, a way to utilize the ingredients, by finding numerous places for them on the menus, and in daily and weekly features. Leftover baked potatoes become potato skins, leftover mash might become a potato, cheddar soup, and so on and so on.  This process really should be planned before you open a restaurant with carefully researched instead of a copycat menu.  Sometimes a new chef or k.m.(kitchen manager) may have little control of an already-established menu so they will look for places to offset expenses and help with food cost, as well as exercise their creative tendencies.  I have told my wife many times you can tell a lot about a restaurant by the soups they serve. 

  I think you can take the same approach at home  Come up with a plan. When you're done cooking a whole chicken, make chicken soup.  Pot roast can be turned into pot pie or even fajitas.  Doesn't have to be expensive or fancy to be good, and simple can be made to look fancy and expensive. Some of the best places to dine are "holes in the wall."  I still dream about a late night burger in a pita, I used to get from a dive bar back in the early '90s.  I have had $50 steaks that were over-cooked and tough as hell. 

    I've yet to master the ability to cook for only four people.  Hence, our fridge is always full and in danger of spilling over.  The wife has no problem with heating up soup and looks forward to enjoying eggplant on a second day  The girls are happy to make the occasional p,b&j when my services are not available, but that's about where the graciousness ends. Yes, the leftover routine can get old. In the hands of the less experienced and creative cooks, even mundane or downright awful.  I mean microwaving day, old pizza should be a sin but we have all done it.

  I actually look forward to cleaning out the fridge, just like I did the walk-in.  It's the same feeling you get from finally cleaning out your car and getting rid of all those coffee cups and wrappers, that the kids shove in the seats.  It feels new again plus you often find a couple of bucks and a handful of quarters, which means a bonus coffee or chicken biscuit for the week. 

   I suggest taking a long look in your fridge before you have decided there is nothing to eat. Pull out the leftovers like Tuesday's pasta and New Year's black eye peas.  Examine the cast-off celery sticks and half a pepper and onion.  Grab the on its way out wilted spinach, and last two slices of bacon in the meat drawer.  Then take these items and turn them into a twist on pasta fagioli by adding a little garlic, some and Italian seasoning.  That's something to be proud of. You can brag about your skills when it comes out great or laughs about that horrible black-eyed pea fagioli next Thanksgiving.  Either way, you've learned something and are a step closer to making good use of those leftovers.  It's where I have done some of my best work.  

  Recipes and cookbooks to me are mostly inspirational.  That is unless I am baking.  The ingredients are notable. The amounts, glance worthy at best.  The instructions and method, if I don't know those by now, I should retire.  Recipes, methods, and portions are most important for new cooks and are needed for consistency, especially in a restaurant. Still, you might be surprised by how many restaurants don't have them.  That's why your burger or fish and chips tastes different this week than last at your local pub.  The food may even vary daily, lunch to dinner depending on whose running the line or prepping that day
. 
   I remember a long time ago, members were outraged over the change in the chicken salad at a golf club. " It used to be so good and now tasted dry and completely different, " they said.  Well, it turned out that the cook who had made it for 20 years just retired.  He had decided long ago that deli roasted turkey breast tasted better in the recipe, but never told anyone or and wrote it down. It was his secret recipe, and it finally made sense on why they went through so much turkey with only one sandwich on the menu.  People who have worked in the biz realize this kind of thing happens all the time in restaurants. While recipes and methods are crucial to running a good business they have little to do with Thursday's leftovers.  

   I hate throwing anything out, wasting a thing. It's true the best ingredients are the freshest.  That doesn't mean you can't cut out the bad spots on an over-ripe avocado, turn soft tomatoes into a marinara, or serve milk after the expiration date.  I employ the smell and taste test on all things before I take an expiration date at face value.  If I can't get cell service in all points of my house, how do they know the exact date my milk goes sour?  It's the best guess based on time, temperature and handling which is all random and mostly uncontrollable once products leave the plant.  So making leftovers is more an art than science and sometimes a leap of faith.

  The all so popular fusion cooking going on today can be done from most any one's fridge using that leftover fried chicken, a little soy, some random veggies and a piece of fruit.  You just have to break the recipe down, get to what gives it flavor.  Realize a dish like kimchi (one of my favorites) is basically old cabbage.  It's been fermented, salted and spiced and given a little time to achieve those flavors, but that doesn't mean you can't use what is left of the cabbage to make a kimchi-inspired dish.  Chutneys, sambals, and many other exotic sounding sauces are nothing more than a balance of vinegar, sugar, and spice.  That sugar could be in its natural form, or as honey, or it can come from fruit, a red pepper, even a carrot.  The acid could be any type of vinegar from plain white, to balsamic, to rice or red wine.  It can be a lemon, lime or orange.  The spice could be hot sauce, curry, garlic, pepper or a blend.  A pico de gallo (rough cut salsa) can be made from the last tomato, with a little onion and lime juice, fresh squeezed or bottle, with or without the cilantro.

    Don't be scared.  Take a minute and go through your fridge.  Pull out that limp zucchini, last potato, tomato and onion out then google a curry recipe. You will be surprised what you can make with what you have.  It will make you a better cook, plus it may expose you and your family to a world of new flavors.

   My last recommendation is herbs and spices.   My wife likes a dessert that is nothing more than sliced bananas and chopped walnuts, sprinkled with cinnamon and drizzled with honey.  Cinnamon is the key.  Heated or unheated, it's simple and delicious. Make sure your pantry is stocked with a variety of spices.  Do check every so often and throw out that nutmeg you bought two years ago to make pumpkin pie.  Or, better yet, make a curry or rub that incorporates it before it loses its flavor.  I have seen nutmeg used in dishes from moussaka to classic whipped potatoes.  Also, fresh herbs are great, and we grow a lot of our own but dried also serve a purpose.  I usually incorporate the dried at the beginning of dish or while cooking and the fresh at the end, right, before serving. Herbs and spices are the keys to better cooking and a better life. 

  Remember when working with new ingredients you can only be defeated by your lack of imagination and unwillingness to try. What's your best dish, recipe or specialty?  I've been asked many times over the years by a friend or customer.  I might throw them a bone by highlighting some classic, but more often than not, I believe it's the last thing I've cooked, when I had to improvise, using what I had in front of me.  Necessity is where invention is born.  I am sure to get the eye roll and the sigh this morning when the girls ask me what's for dinner, but it's my favorite night of the week, we're having leftovers.  

 

Lentils, Quinoa and Kale. Oh My!

   Lentils, quinoa and kale seem to be rapidly working their way into our social conscience as healthy cooking and eating option, and are ever-present on our dinner table at home. I never  gave them much thought during my early professional career, and it really wasn't until recent years when these items seem to be making their way to restaurant menus everywhere.  Heck, you can get bowls of chicken and quinoa, or lentils, veggies and brown rice at your local Starbucks.  For a while, Chick-Fil-A was offering a superfood salad featuring kale and broccolini, and even McDonalds added a kale, turkey sausage and egg white breakfast bowl to their menu.

  Some of these, may seem to be passing fads or trends, but the truth is,  there is something to it.  We have become a nation obsessed with food, and as more information (good and bad) is revealed about what we are eating, there seems to be a movement to know not only what is in that food, but also how it is made or grown and where it is sourced.

   Organic, local, natural, and farm to table are all buzz words that grab our attention.  Sometimes they are helpful, sometimes misleading and sometimes they just don't mean a damn thing.  Organic may be strictly monitored, if it has a USDA seal, but what do you really know about that designation?    You can slap a local sticker on any food produced in a 400 mile radius.  Whole foods says local is 200 miles. I consider myself a local to Signal Mountain, but I am familiar enough with it to call Chattanooga home since it's only 15 minutes away.  I don't believe anyone 2 1/2 hours away in Atlanta or Nashville would ever call me for directions, recommendations or offer me a local's discount there.

  There is no legal definition to natural, and please don't get me started on farm to table.  I consider this to be one of the most over used and misleading phrases of all.  Few restaurants really source their food this way, its impractical and expensive.  If they do it doesn't mean their holding or cooking methods are any better. It usually means I am going to pay a lot more for a lot less because the chef or owner took a little artistic license with the menu.  It's like calling something confit because its been pulled apart or Gorgonzola when it's crumbled bleu cheese delivered in a 5lb bag.

  I must admit, I can be a little suspicious.  My wife has called me "the jaded chef."  Still, the world has shrunk, information has never been more available, and we are fortunate to live in the land of plenty so there is no lack of options of where we can purchase our food.  Healthy is in, my wife is on board, (has always been on board), and has now hired me to cook and accommodate this lifestyle and pass it on to our children.  It has made me a little healthier, slightly more aware and, in all, a better chef. There are recipes, spices and flavors I am discovering daily that make me yearn less for red meat, and I find myself shopping at various places with a discerning eye to labels as well as price tags and spending a lot more time in the produce section.  My wife's mother who is in great shape and beautiful woman in her early 70's attributes much of her health to shopping the outside aisles in the grocery store.  Think about it.

    Lentils, quinoa and kale can all make their way to our weekly menus in some form.  My wife is constantly coming across new things she wants to try and I have many texts forwarded from recipes she has found on Pinterest.  Lately I have been leafing through a vegan cook book she fell in love with, Tahini and Tumeric.  Yes, I said vegan. Don't worry, while it contains great recipes with cool photos, it's more of a guide or starting point.  I rarely stick to script and have no problem substituting chicken broth for veg or incorporating shrimp or fish to the dish and adjusting spices and amounts to my liking.  It does have a few great soup recipes,  which she loves and I have tweaked.  One is a really flavorful "root vegetable" with lots of turmeric,  and the other I made yesterday,"red lentil garlic and cilantro."   A pot will last a week, and it's easy to heat up in the evening.  It's great and very warming on cold winter nights.  She also packs it up and takes it to work to share with her friends, and it has become a regular request.

   Take large 1 gallon pot, lightly cover bottom with olive oil.  I mostly use a decent blend, virgin or extra.  Add 4-5 T (7-8 cloves) chopped garlic, saute but don't brown, stir in 1/2 bunch chopped cilantro, 1 diced red. yellow or orange peppers, 1T salt, add 8 cups veg or chicken stock bring to simmer, add 1 cup of red lentils, 1/2 cup of quinoa, stir and bring to boil .  You could use 6 cups of broth but I prefer to have it a little soupy.    Reduce to simmer cook for 45 minutes to 1 hour, stirring occasionally.  In the last 5 or so minutes add 8 oz of chopped kale or spinach.  Finish cooking then turn off and cover  Add the other half a bunch of cilantro chopped and 1 fresh lemon squeezed, return cover and let sit until cool.  Can be served right away or put up for following day.  You can always adjust the spices, salt and pepper to taste and add as needed.  I like this the garlic and love the cilantro in this one.   It's  pretty simple and straight forward.  The lemon juice at the end as well as finishing with fresh herbs only serves to heighten the flavors.

    I call this soup "garlicky, cilantro, red lentil, quinoa and kale"  You can see where I got this blog's title.

Eggplant or Aubergine?

  The very first time I remember seeing an Eggplant, I was 17yrs old and living on a 43ft cement hulled sail boat  We were heading from the Carolinas to Venezuela and parts unknown to search for gold. Both the search and the gold never did materialize.

   Liz was the 40 odd year old British matriarch of the vessel.  Liz liked to walk around on warm, breezy days, topless, and never did seem to mind the very embarrassed American teenage boys on the vessel, who must have seemed hilarious trying to avoid any and all eye contact with Liz and her husband and sons.

  Liz introduced this odd vegetable she called an aubergine (ah-brr-jean) to our diet by serving it in a foreign stew she referred to as ratatouille (long before Pixar's beloved rat flick).  As far as food goes this was as close to a life-changing event as I have ever experienced.

    Up to that point in my young adulthood, I had never thought I liked, nor would I  try any vegetables outside of canned corn and that little side dish of peas & carrots included in Swanson's delicious turkey t.v. dinner.

   I can still picture those wan veggies now on that gleaming silver tray, nestled right next to the vibrant cherry like cobbler, two doors over from the oh, so buttery instant mashed potatoes but making the most space for a slice of turkey atop something that resembled crunchy stuffing finished with a tan, gelatinous gravy substance.  It was a mainstay in the home of my youth, and I was raised pretty much vegan-opposite.  (This is sure to come as no surprise, if you read my blog/feelings on tomatoes.)   Salad was what my dinner ate.  My steaks, pork chops and fried chicken never needed an introduction, and only played well with their potato friends.  

    So the first time I saw the eggplant/aubergine it was presented with it's ami the courgette

(coor-zhett}  French for zucchini, which I believe I had previously seen and mistaken for a cucumber. Liz took these new to me vegetables introduced  by their French names, cut and layered them with peppers, onions and garlic in a basily tomato sauce.  She then baked them in a Dutch oven type dish, and presented them as dinner. The ratatouille usually made an appearance at the table next day as well. Liz would always say foods like this were better the next day, and she was right.   It was simple, colorful and beautiful to look at.  It smelled delicious and most of all tasted like nothing I had eaten to until that point in my life.   Despite my reservations, I was hooked, and would crave this Provencal French dish for years to come.  I have tried to recreate this dish hundreds of times, and though I have received many positive and even rave reviews, it has never tasted as good to me as it did then.

    That experience really opened my eyes, my mind and palate to new possibilities.  I muse on it today as I am preparing one of my wife's go-tos, Eggplant (aubergine) parm. The dish I make for her is pretty simple and straightforward.  First, I take one decent sized aubergine, leave skin on, slice in 1/4 inch rounds and the soak in pan of salted water for couple of hours. An old Italian chef once told me it helps remove some of the bitterness from the larger more seeded ones, plus I like the flavor it adds, and old habits die hard.

   For the marinara I find a decent can of diced tomatoes with oregano and garlic, usually three cans will do, plus a small can of tomato sauce.  The wife likes a lot of sauce.  I then dice two medium sized onions, and sweat/saute in a large pot over med heat, with three- yes 3T of chopped garlic, add a 1T or half handful of sugar, and 2 tablespoons of Italian seasoning then cook till onions become translucent and garlic aromatic.  (Don't burn the garlic.) I then add the opened cans of tomatoes, and tomato sauce and stir well. I let this simmer, for about an hour, then partially puree with my emulsion/brr mixer (restaurant lingo) and finish with fresh oregano or basil just before service.  Classic marinara asks for basil, my wife prefers a bit sweeter sauce with oregano, akin to a pizza sauce- but it compliments the eggplant well

  I have turned the oven on 400- removed the eggplant from water, patted it dry , sprinkled with garlic and a pinch of  salt then topped with Parmesan and bake for about 10-15 minutes until cheese is golden. I then cover a baking dish with marinara lay out usually 3-4 slices of eggplant add a sprinkle of feta, or mozzarella.  I really like fresh mozzarella on this. I think the wife prefers feta.  I then add more marinara, and repeat until we run out of eggplant.  There are usually 3-4 slices of eggplant in a stack.. The stacks are topped with cheese, covered and baked for 15- 20  minutes then served.  I like it with pasta, angel hair or penne.  The wife likes it with a side of sautéed spinach.

  The girls, well despite our best efforts and proud regaling of their cosmopolitan appetites. They're  still kids and as much as I would like them to eat eggplant, I usually end up pan frying or baking  a couple of chicken breasts. Even at home the customer is always right, and I need to cater to the pickiest of needs.  Plus, a chef has to pick his battles. Though they know they don't like eggplant, they seem to really love the aubergine in my ratatouille.   I am sure that may change soon as my youngest is taking French this year.  I guess I will have to start using berenjenas instead.

  

I hate tomatoes!!!

   Tomatoes.  I hate them!  Well mostly... Cooked in a marinara, added to a curry or stew, even pureed with cream in a soup, all beautiful. However, the thought of eating a raw tomato on a sandwich, gushing its essence against a beautiful slice of country wheat bread, or crusty baguette starts my gag reflex.  I know this kind of thought can be sacrilege, especially to those living close to tomato country, like Grainger County, Tennessee, where tomatoes hold a special place almost equal to the Vols or Peyton Manning, but I would argue that God got a little busy the day he created them and didn't quite finish the job.

  Now, sprinkle them with salt, toss with olive oil and crushed garlic clove, add a chiffonade of basil, maybe even fresh mozz and I'm in.  Or maybe diced up with onion, chopped cilantro, and a squeeze of lime juice and pass me a chip.  You can even roast those little sweet grape tomatoes like I did this evening with kosher salt, garlic, olive oil and a balsamic drizzle and mix them in with the sautéed spinach and finish with crumbled feta- my wife's request)- A dish she and the kids love (sans spinach, for the kids) and I find pretty it enjoyable.
  

    But....raw tomatoes, on their own. No sir!  And I would have to say,  I have run into so many folks in my thirty plus years of cheffin' who feel the same way, that I think any argument for or against the infamous vegetable/fruit would be split down the middle. Still it gives me pause.

  What kind of example am I setting for my children, or anyone who might find their first bite of a Grainger County red that leads them to a life long love affair with the produce?  I have trained and tried to explain to many cooks that a good chef  should know what flavors he or she is working with.  You may have an a well developed sense of taste and a good understanding what ingredients work well together, but until you have actually tried the food you are leaving a lot to chance.  If you don't sample it yourself, how are you going to know if your tomatoes are really sweet, slightly salty mealy or even bland?  I must confess on this tomato front, I have been a hypocrite.  I loathe the thought of swallowing a fresh tomato yet to much the chagrin of many shocked onlookers, I have been known to not shy away from a pinch (even a handful) of raw hamburger from time to time.  I will occasionally cut off a small slice of a cherry, or brave a wedge of heirloom, only to flash back to that day long ago when I was 7 or 8 and my aunt standing hand on hip in that double wide, shaking her Pall Mall at me, forced me to swallow the fresh tomato she had so lovingly cut, for me. I fought and screamed against the idea even when she offered the oh so tantalizing addition of Wonderbread and Miracle Whip.  Three guesses which part of the country I'm from.   She swore she knew what was good for me. She could tell I needed the iron and she was worried.   I was sickly looking and anemic, and would never grow.  If she could see me now, 250 odd pounds later, her fear would be relieved and then some.

  I guess my disdain of the raw tomato has turned into a begrudging admiration, even a fondness, and set me on a quest for what new ingredients I might combine with it to make it palatable to my delicate senses.  It has been a journey.  While the tomato has slowly earned my respect if not my love, it has won over one of my daughters, and this despite the warnings of their not so chefly father.  It usually makes at least a weekly appearance on our dinner table in some way, shape or form.   So, I guess there is hope for our relationship yet. Still, if any one asks, I hate tomatoes.

Applying for the job

    My wife often jokes that the reason she married me was my penne vodka.
    I didn't realize at the time I was applying for my current position fourteen years later, and if I had of known, I would have probably left that dish off my resume and highlighted  one my favorites like pork osso bucco, a black and blue ribeye or even crawfish pasta. If I had, I probably wouldn't have gotten the job. As obtuse as I was, I would not have considered appetites and tastes outside of mine.  I was a chef, I knew what was best, what people (customers) would want to eat and how they should eat it and if it did not coincide with my culinary expertise, then it was due to their uneducated palate.  To be honest, there are times I still struggle with that today, but I have come a long way because she did say yes, and all these years later I believe that my skills in the kitchen have been enhanced by the experiences learned cooking for my wife and two daughters.  
   No, I don't currently hold the title of chef in my own or some local restaurant, I don't spend 12-15 hours a day on the line, or roaming the front of the house. I am not constantly thinking about what cook or waiter didn't show up and what position I might have to cover. I am not worried about a surprise visit by the health inspector when the water heater or the compressor on the walk-in just quits working. I not yelling at our reps about the state of produce, or constantly shopping them against each other for better prices to  better control food cost because my bonus depends on it. I'm not trying to constantly keep up with current trends like locally sourced, or farm to table while trying to see how many different items we can sous vide or how to integrate sriracha, pomegranate, or kambucha to our menu or today's feature.  I am not thinking about  how left unsupervised my cooks might  cross contaminate or mix up a customer's order ending up possibly killing that older lady at the two top with a shellfish allergy.  I don't spend my days concerned about  how many  gluten friendly,  and vegetarian/vegan options we have available to an ever more discerning public. It doesn't bother me to close the kitchen a few minutes early after a busy night and risk a late walk in causing the sous chef walking out.
   No, for now those days are gone. Although at times stressful, there are many things about that crazy way of life shared by so many, that I miss. However, I have actually grown in leaps and bounds lately, both as a chef and a person. I have been challenged culinarily as never before. No longer am I surrounded by all those things many chefs take for granted: six burners, large stock pots, dozens of saute pans, convection ovens, commercial mixers, walk-ins filled with produce, heavy cream, fresh fish, steaks, stocks and demis, mise en place for days, fresh herbs and racks of spices.  Now my resources have been four burners ( I still insist on gas), a one door reach in, a kitchen aid, a couple of decent knives, a drawer full of spices and a small closet pantry
     Today I cook at home for my wife, and two almost teenage girls.  My wife has become a pescatarian (veggies and fish, NO RED meat, no pork or chicken, and no I can't feed her lamb).  I haven't made penne vodka in some time, although my oldest made the attempt and while her mom reveled in her creation and her friends loved it,  I had to be honest and tell her I could taste the burnt cream, that they didn't seem to be aware of. (I know, I know). The girls, well they are becoming more teen aged and their tastes fluctuate as much as their moods.  I still love a good steak, enjoy sautéed duck breast and yearn for foie gras.   But my tastes have had to evolve as I age, and try and keep up with my ultra fit and healthy wife, and every new vegetarian dishes she might discover.There are at least a 1000 ways to cook lentils, quinoa. spinach and kale.  My daughters have ever changing palates and crazy ideas that we can have lobster and crab bisque or Kraft mac and cheese at any given time (my fault, both).  Then I must attempt to combine all of our food yearnings and present some semblance of a dinner that makes every one happy.  Some days I nail it, and some days not so much. Like most who chose the profession or more like it chose me, I still cook because I have an immense passion for it.  I relish the instant gratification and joy shown by others when they are enjoying something you created.  I cook for my family daily, waste no chance to invite others over or volunteer my skills when possible. This blog is a way for me share some of that journey with you, while keeping some kind of record of the dishes I've made.  
    Hopefully it will provide you some joy, inspiration or maybe even laughter, tracking the success and failures sure to come from my current job as my wife's chef.