So it’s been quite a while since my last blog. Haven’t actually written anything except a few recipes and a two-weeks notice. Yep. I have already found another new job, so now instead of working at Seaglass and Inner Fog, I’ll be at Inner Fog and One Market! I’m extremely excited for this new job. I’m going to learn a lot and be back in a fine dining establishment. Although I will definitely miss my Seaglass coworkers, I’m excited for this new step.
I’m still thinking about culinary school though…I think it will always be in my mind. Whenever I’m ready I guess I’ll just go.
Sorry for the shortness of this blurb, but I’m ready to go sleep off the vertigo I’ve been suffering for a week.
I wish you good food and sweet dreams.
So, I just got one of the best gifts of my life. Nothing extravagant or expensive….Well relatively speaking it’s exorbitant, I usually spend only a few dollars on a book. This one is quite a bit more costly than that. But this book, this book is special. My boyfriend just gave me the two-volume set of Julia Child’s Mastering the Art of French Cooking. You may be able to imagine my excitement on receiving this gift, or maybe not. But if you have read my blog or know me personally (shout out to mom, haha), you know how excited I am. I’ve often said I wanted to be like Julia, dedicated to the art of cooking. My blog is even named for her most famous ingredient, butter.
But I’ve never allowed anyone to buy this set for me, and I wasn’t ready to purchase it for myself, for many reasons first and foremost, the price tag and my fear. I am terrible at following through on things, just like Julie from Julie and Julia, but I plan on being accountable for reading through the two volumes. I even intend to cook as many recipes as possible for the practice and to feed my boyfriend and roommates.
The big question is… Should I try to make every recipe in one year or less? Would anyone be interested in reading about that kind of travail?
Cooking is at once one of the simplest and most gratifying of the arts, but to cook well one must love and respect food.
There is no love sincerer than the love of food.
–George Bernard Shaw, Irish playwright (1856-1950)
If you are ever at a loss to support a flagging conversation, introduce the subject of eating.
Whose bread I eat: his song I sing.
And finally, my beloved Julia Child said:
People who love to eat are always the best people.
I’ve been contemplating culinary school for ages now. It used to feel like a pipe dream, something that wouldn’t amount to anything even if I did attend. Now I know that I can hang in the restaurant world. I love it, in fact. I know my dream is to continue working in restaurants for as long as I’m able. Maybe my goals will change after having kids or something distant like that, maybe they won’t.
My question is, is culinary school worth it, now that I’m already in the business? According to most people (like Anthony Bourdain) and schools (CIA), you shouldn’t go unless you’ve worked in a restaurant before. Just so both you and the school know if you’re willing to put in the hard work. I know I’m willing to put in the work, but I don’t know which school to attend or how to fund it.
I just made dinner for the first time in ages. And yes, you’re probably wondering….”um, Alex, you work in a restaurant, don’t you make dinner for people every night?” And yes, that’s a valid question. Very valid. Tonight though, I cooked myself dinner. Albeit, not a great one. But I felt more creative than I have in ages because I didn’t have to create someone else’s dish for the thousandth time. Which, don’t mistake me, I love cooking in the restaurant scene, but this felt nice in very different way. I can see by looking at my recently published blogs that I haven’t cooked anything I found worth blogging about at home since last July….
That’s very sad to me. I like writing this blog almost as much as I like to imagine that I’m Julie Powell of the Julie/Julia franchise. And the fact that I haven’t felt inspired to cook for myself at home, even on my days off, since July, is downright sad. But I have a new lease on life right now. I dropped a lot of baggage a while back and now I’m in a great new relationship with myself and with my new boyfriend. So I’m going to be cooking for him at home more often. And I’m in the middle of a job search, about which I hope to write some notes, too. So I should have some more fodder for my blog from here on out.
Back to the title. I made strawberry vinaigrette tonight. Fresh strawberries, garlic and balsamic vinegar and a bit too much olive oil…But it’s still tasty! The salad itself was just spinach and fennel and chia seeds, but also tasty. I also cooked up some corn and reheated a bratwurst I braised in apple juice a few days back.
So, I’ve been on hiatus from writing this blog pretty much since I started working at my current restaurant. I’m still working there, very happily. I’m sure my mom is the only person who reads this, but that’s fine. Hi Mom!
Anyway, yesterday, I got brave and decided to jump on the hot line and demand to be taught. Of course, my beloved coworker D. taught me everything that got ordered. Scallops and Mussels and Bouillabaisse are all now in my repertoire. Although, I’m sure I’d need a refresher course was I to have the opportunity to jump on the line again. I hope I will very soon.
Our scallops are bathed in butter and our mussels get happy in garlic, harissa, and beer. The bouillabaisse is just delicious. I’ll update when I really remember how to describe our duck breast. Yum!
This afternoon I decided I wanted to experiment after watching a video of Laura Calder, who is the Julia Child to my Julie Powell. Although I am not exactly going through a master cookbook like Julie was, her blog is the inspiration for mine, and Laura is my muse. I digress. After watching an episode of her show French Food at Home entitled “Truckstop French,” I was inspired to make a brie sandwich.
However, I had English muffins, not baguette, and I toasted them in butter instead of slathering on softened butter. Laura Calder loves butter just as much as Julia Child or I ever could. I love that about cooks who make French food. They are neither afraid of butter, nor afraid to use a lot of it and I really think that nobody ever should be! Butter is a saint, as is bread. I think they are frequently martyrs, but I’m resurrecting them for my own cooking escapades.
Back to my sandwich. I added to my sandwich an egg fried over easy in the butter from my English muffins. All I have to say is, “PLEASE do NOT make this sandwich!” it did not taste very nice, brie and juicy egg together…and I didn’t make clarified butter, which I probably also should have done. However, I don’t really know how and I don’t intend to learn it tonight, as I’m too tired from this week. A week, which is, to my dismay, not over yet…
I need another nap.
And maybe another glass of wine.
p.s. I found a recipe for “Quick and Easy Yorkshire Pudding” which I intend to try soon. Does anyone have any tips on what to pair with it? (Other than wine, of course!)
As none of you probably know this, since I am sure I have only told a few people… I love food: cooking, testing new recipes, attempting to show the world what I’m eating (my iPhone doesn’t take wonderful photos), and of course, eating. Baking and cooking are my favorite things in the world to do, and I feel that perhaps if I worked in a kitchen or wrote about food for a living I could be happy. Very very happy.
Other times, I realize that I’m rarely happy when I’m doing something because I’ve been told to do it…It makes the task drag on and on and on…And I’m on a mission: to change my way of thinking. Or, at least to find something that is so wonderful that I want to do it even if I’m assigned the job and have to do it for the rest of my life.
So, is this a difficult, daunting task? Hell yes it is. I’m scared that I’ll fail. I’m certain I success will take me on a long, possibly treacherous journey. “Nevertheless, I am willing.”
Long story short, I am going to start blogging about food much more than anyone could probably ever want to read about it… I take that back: that statement is doubly false: I can’t possibly blog about food more than anyone would want to read about it because 1) I’m incredibly lazy and 2) Everyone I know loves thinking, reading and talking about food enough that I would be hard-pressed to bore them with such a blog.
So get excited for my first blog about food coming up later this week.
It will be inspired by one of these two blog posts:
When you have a bad day, everything seems to be multiplicative…My day started out ok, just some unpleasant correspondence from the woman I’m renting a room from. Nothing too serious, she was just annoyed at me because SHE chose not to put HER phone on silent last night. Not my fault, but I was doomed to hear about it… even after I apologized, she still went on…
Then the weather was crap today (pouring down rain), so I drove to school. No big deal, usually. I even rather love the rain when I am inside, but my umbrella is kiiiiind of malfunctioning… When I got to class, everyone was worried because we were getting our German tests back today. After lecturing us for 10-15 minutes, she gave us our results. I got a C+ (which to be honest is better than I expected).
Obviously I didn’t feel like staying on campus for four and a half hours with nothing to do but read fifty pages of Gertrude Stein‘s Picasso. Then there was Walgreens…
Normally when I go to Walgreens I’m happy to be there because they have something I desperately need (usually feminine products). I put thirty cents in the parking meter (that is nine minutes for you non-San Franciscans) and went inside to exchange some foundation and buy tampons. I made the mistake of trying to find a better shade of foundation than the orangey one I had previously picked. I found one I thought would work better and then went to pay.
Apparently, all of this took longer than nine minutes, as when I went back out, the parking cop was putting a ticket on my windshield! He said to me, “I’m sorry, I’ve already written the citation. You need to put money in even if you’re going to be quick.” As though I had tried to avoid paying a measly few cents! I was enraged. Flabbergasted. Incensed. Above all, though, I felt dejected. I have never gotten a real parking ticket before, and at my undergrad University, I had always fought them if I missed. Sometimes I even got the ticket forgiven. Nevertheless, I had never had a $62 ticket before.
So, I sat in my car and cried like a child. Tears streaming down my face as they hadn’t done in at least a few months, I felt petty, but also vindicated in my upset-state. I am allowed to be upset when I get a parking ticket whether I deserve it or not, am I right?