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Some Things You Never Forget
July 2007
It was a rather rainy and dreary Fourth of July this year in the
Northeast. No fireworks. No barbeques. No lounging in the sun. In my
house it was all-day reruns of Law and Order for my daughter, the
movies for my son and reading for me. Looking for something new to
curl up on the couch with, I came across two books that I had
purchased months earlier but had not yet read. Both were food
memoirs. I began with Anthony Bourdain’s Nasty Bits and nearly
finished it that day. I immediately connected with his tales of the
rigors of being on the front line of restaurant life. I understood
how even now, with a new life of privilege; traveling the world,
eating amazing food with a variety of colorful and interesting
characters, he could still miss being behind the hot line in a
ridiculously small kitchen, cranking out hundreds of meals, tired to
the bone and soaked in sweat. There’s something about having
survived this, night after night, year after year that stays with
you. It’s a challenge that takes the skill of an athlete and the
instinct of an artist. Having done it somehow makes you a better
person. For me the ten years I spent in my restaurant kitchen
translates to an experience I can always refer back to whenever I’m
faced with something I think I can’t do. After surviving the
trenches of the kitchen, the risks involved in starting a restaurant
and making a success of it (with the help of a lot of dedicated and
talented people), there isn’t a whole lot that scares me any more.
For that and much, much, more, I’ll never forget my restaurant
years.
I take a break from reading, thinking it the perfect time to do some
culinary experimentation of my own, under far less rigorous
conditions, in my bright, airy, well equipped home kitchen, relaxed,
and with all the time in the world to arrive at culinary perfection.
I end up making two--couldn’t be more different--dishes: espresso
gelato and pickled eggplant. Wait! Before you jump to conclusions, I
can explain. I got a gelato machine for Christmas and still hadn’t
tried it out. And the pickled eggplant--something in Bourdain’s book
made me think of it. I used to make it all the time with my mother
when I was a girl. It was very delicious and I haven’t had any quite
like it since. Most are too mushy and vinegary and don’t come even
close to the texture of the thinly sliced eggplant of my memories or
the flavor of it’s perfect balance of herbs, garlic and olive oil
with just a splash of vinegar. Thinking it unlikely that I could
remember how to recreate it now, after more than 30 years, I looked
on line and found a recipe from someone’s Italian grandmother. As I
read the process--which is more important for this delicacy than
having the exact recipe--it started coming back to me. As I squeezed
out the liquids from the filleted eggplant between both
hands--having boiled it in two parts water and one part vinegar, I
was sure I got it right. When I tasted it the next day on a slice of
fresh bread, I knew it was exactly as I remembered it.
The gelato--the making of which even intrigued my daughter enough to
divert her attention away from vivid crime stories---was almost as
creamy as I remember it being in Italy. Here again, the process is
important. First you make a custard over a double broiler, cool it,
then fold in whipped cream before pouring it into the machine.
Master the process, use a few choice ingredients and the variations
can be endless. I’ll keep you posted on any particularly wonderful
flavors. If any of them are as good or better than this first
attempt with espresso---then, this is just the beginning and I’m
sure to become a gelato making queen.
The next day I started and finished Ruth Riechl’s Comfort Me With
Apples. Loved it. It chronologies her early years as a restaurant
critic in Berkley and LA and you really get a feel for who she was
and the culinary and personal climate that molded who she became.
Both books are filled with wonderfully detailed descriptions of
their food adventures, playing either the background or main event
of more personal stories. I couldn’t help but wonder however, how
did they recapture with such detail, the names, taste, texture and
feelings invoked by hundreds of multi course meals--often sampled in
foreign lands--dishes with weird names--consumed and washed down
with bottles of wine or other alcoholic beverage. Did they take
notes? Was there a recorder on at all times? Or do they have a
photographic memory for detail and observation? Tony or Ruth, if on
the slim chance that you should happen to come upon these musings,
can you let me know your secret? Sometimes I can’t remember the
names of what I ate yesterday. On the other hand, how something
tasted, looked and smelled, lingers on--sometimes for many years.
Yes, there are some things you never forget.
Recipe this month...
Pickled Eggplant
Espresso Gelato
Have a great month,
Chef Silvia
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Personal Growth |
Living in the moment. We’re all heard it’s a good thing
to do. We’ve all attempted it---whenever we remember to
do so. But what does it really mean? Sometimes I’m so
focused on what’s going on in my head, that I don’t see
what’s right in front of me. Some times, especially when
I’m doing something routine like washing the dishes,
I’ll find I’ve completed the chore and don’t recall
washing anything--I was thinking about something else
entirely. At times being inside my head is exactly where
I need to be and this leads me to some wonderful
revelations. Other times, my thoughts distract me from
paying attention to what’s before me and I miss noticing
how wonderful the breeze feels on my face, or what my
child is really saying to me…or simply how good the
warm, sudsy water feels and how clean the pots look when
I’m done washing them. or more importantly, what I’ve
noticed most, is that when I’m in the moment, time lasts
longer and I can really experience what’s in front of
me. So, when I’m eating a meal, for example, I don’t
just look down at my plate at some point and notice it’s
gone, I enjoy every single bite. |
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Decorating for the Senses |
This year I’ve
had to start my rather large garden from scratch. Almost
everything was either dead or overgrown after two years
of neglect after a fire to my home destroyed most of the
garden as well. Wanting to keep it simple, I planted
vegetables and herbs and not much of anything else.
Since this was a bit sparse, I decided to keep certain
“beautiful” weeds to fill out my garden until I could
add more next year and I added some potted plants. The
results are interesting, a bit eclectic, but pleasing to
the eyes and the senses. See for yourself..
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Improving Your
Cooking Skills |
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Lately, I’ve been asked by a number of clients to design
a menu that focuses on a cuisine that is not my area of
expertise. As I researched Asian, or Latin or even
African cooking I couldn’t help but notice that though
each area has ingredients that are particular to their
region, many ingredients are familiar ones and cross all
cultures….garlic, eggplant, cornmeal, chili peppers, to
name a few. The names or the way in which they’re used
may be different, but in essence they’re the same. This
is especially true for areas that have been populated by
Europeans---and that’s almost everywhere. What I
discovered as I stretched my culinary comfort zones is
that with a little research and a bit of experimentation
in the kitchen, the culinary world opens up to delight
my senses and confidence and delicious results are
easier and more familiar than you may think. So pick a
cuisine that you normally would only eat at a
restaurant, do a google search, study a number of the
recipes for a particular dish and then go experiment...
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Decorating for the Senses
