the balance of two loves.

so i was talking to my chef the other day about relationships, and he mentioned in passing that hes been divorced and cheated on however many girlfriends because his true love has always been the food. His said this mind you, in front of our pastry chef, his wife. He says you have to have a love affair with food. where i dont debate his idea that food is life, i do debate that a love of the food automatically means one cant love anything equally.

As a few of you may know, the typical life of a cook is ruled by extremes, hellish work-followed by excess of reward, be it alchohol, "illicit substances" or multitudes of less than classy, scantily clad women. With that said, i cant say that it isnt justifiable, this life isnt an easy one, in the least. Its long and hard and the fuckers who do it, and voluntarily have some peenchey cahones to do so.

But my point is this, i'm of the believe that there can be a balance between more than on love. I just recently got into a serious relationship with a girl whos never been in one with a guy in foodservice. When we started dating i basically said "im a degenerate son of a bitch, with a limited moral compass and no respect for authority... really, im a horrible person." I prefaced myself with that just because i know how i am, and i know my life. i'll love her till the day that i die but the fact is, as i often tell her..."I'm a cook". I let that qoute explain alot of my rediculous behavior and generally its takin pretty well considering the bullshit i spew. whether im currently in the kitchen or not, i am by nature hostile, tough, insensitve and hellbent. at least to everyone but her. My sense of humor is less than socially acceptable and i get extremely involved in all my interests. cooking and her being the top to of these.

---the real question of this bit is that i did while i did say top two, i believe my passion for each of them can be equal, ive seen to many a grill man end a relationship because he felt he couldnt devote his life to both-

i dont think it has to be that way. at all. i think the love for each can play off of each other and strenthen the love of each other. what do you guys think? HMMM???

35 mm Minolta for sale

I have in my possesion a sexy Minolta x-370 35 millimeter camera for sale. It was my dads, and he gave it to me before moving. He is a professional videographer so the camera has been treated with the utmost care.
Included in the one time only combo pack:

Minolta X-370s body
vivitar mc teleconverter 2x-5
1 minolta 50mm 1:1.7
1 minolta 50mm 1:2
minolta auto X200 flash
minolta auto winder

also a shutter slave will be included.
and for an astoundingly cheap negotiable $250 (electronics/kitchen wares of equal or approximate value will be considered for trade)

yeah, more regular food stuff later

the restaurant is a living thing and its my belief that the kitchen is the heart of it, (no offence to FOH) When everybody is just and a perfect groove and shit is hitting the pass dead on time and dishes are tasting good, and everybody is content and people start anticipating orders and moving in perfct rhythm: life is good. I live for that man, its the equivalent of amys bread smell, where it is something that is problematic to describe but thick enough to cut with a knife.on the flip side when things arent so smooth, and i get weeded or somebody fucks some timing up or gets a refire there is the same amount of energy and passion but i'm pissed. Its when im pissed and weeded that i feel i start to get good, i love that pressure. even during prep and shit. My brunoise gets really fucking tiny and perfect and my chiffonade gets filiment thin and i start thinking about breaking down that whole pig in the walk in noone wants to fuck with. i love pushing myself during those moments which is odd because im a lazy fat bastard in affairs unrelated to food. like you guy were saying it is about how you recover. I recover sitting on the trash can at the bus stop, calming down, trying to stop doing math in my head for tommorow, trying to shut down. I unbutton a few buttons and try and rub off the thick layer of gritty grease and sweat on my forehead and clean the supertiny spray of oil off my glasses and acess wounds and decide whether or not they need futher medical attention. and i sit there in the dark and clear everything out. no matter how shitty or great service went, im saying to myself "Im going to be Black Escoffier! im going to rule my kitchen with an iron whisk and plate monkeys and runners will cower before my mighty clogs! grillmen will tremble at the sight of my meez, agast at the amount of 3 michelin star plates I and my titan like crew will produce every night."Yeah, i wanna be really really good. i want to be at the unatainable level of greatness. i want those fuckers to have to add an extra star to the scale because of my restaurant.i have high hopes and i sit at the bus-stop hellbent on achieving them. however long it takes.wish me luck guys, tommorow im gonna try and get this local bakery to let me apprentice there. I'm used to saying "let me peel your shallots" i guess now ill say, "let me fix your malfuncting Hobbart and feed cultures."whatver you guys were cooking sounded DEE-HEE-HEE-Licious(greatest opening track to date)

i love the smell of capitalism in the late afternoon. well, capitalism and brownies. more brownies than capitalism. Capitalism tends to give me heart-burn which my doc says i should be trying to stray away from. ironically, brownies-- he hasnt mentioned despite the fact that in 300 lbs with elated stress levels and a pentient for bloody steet fights. yeah. Brownies.

The real me is something the mass populace finds unacceptable. I've called myself trying other career pathes than this and all have resulted in social grease fires. Making the switch from ass whomping "i will fuck you up if you take anymore of my towels" linecook to cuddly boyfiend/girlfriend or even upstanding citizen can be a bitch. i find that people in this industry tend to be unable to explain the satisfaction they get from a good service or even picking up a knife and approaching a board. there is a confidence that exudes from me when behind a stove that exists no where else. when i'm rested and my knives are sharpened and ive got a 2 litre of Fresca in my meez and i'm ready and i'm fucking crunk. that is a feeling i only get from cooking. in public i'm just a really big, rude, un-explicably difficult mother-fucker who has problems dealing with authority and those outside of this family of outcasts.i believe Bourdain said it best."this is an industry that tends to draw in the 'fringe elements' of society." And despite the fact that somehow suddenly its "cool" to be a coke head, paint sniffing barely functioning social pariya who just happens to know how to wield a Global or sous vide a duck breast, i still love the life i lead. when it comes down to it for us there are cooks; and then there is everybody else.

this is that new shit

meh,
strawberry clafoutis- didnt hate it, used Jacques Pepins recipe, so, maybe i just dont like egg custard.
pancakes for dinner- good, but like Mitch Hedbeg says. Pancakes are great at first but by the end your fuckin' sick of em'
I really want like a nice big chunk f brisket right now, im seroiusly contimplating asking my butvher to sell me a whole Primal more dinner tommorow.
Bacon fat is the new butter.
shallots should not be 2 for $1.59
if your still using crappy iodized salt at this point, just kill yourself.
i used to hate hearing higher up chefs say shit like, "oh, i dont eat 'junk food', im beyond that." but the other day i bout a whopper from BK and was disgusted, all i could taste was underripe and overripe veggies, smothered with mayo undoubtedly from a bag, a bun of inferior quality that was crumbley despite having been "toasted" and a thin, over-cooked meat pattie that was a think as all the cheaper burgers, just wider. iwas about to cut a bitch.
and then i realized, that kinda food really just isnt good to me anymore, which im both proud of and disgusted with myself for.
i went home and came up wit this.

the "homewrecker"
-one brioche bun-toasted on flat-top.
-barrel vinagered kosher dill pickles. sliced
-1/2 lb 80/20 ground sirlion. Rare to mid-rare, wood, charcoal grilled. baisted with reserved bacon fat
-thick slices aged blue cheese, like a stilton if you can get it. steam melt onto both bun sides
-crisp romaine
-high-grain dry mustard, i like ingle-hoffer's
-heirloom tomatoe slices, razor RAZOR thin,
-thick cut bacon- Excessive fat removed- pan fried-peppered
- avacado slices, thinly for best texture.
-carmelized onions- cooked in bacon fat, deglaze pan with beef stock and port for au jus to serve

assemble, plate in pleasant fashion serve with pomme-frites and jus, with German Beer or Ale

respect the knife, the music...

A guy i follow on Twitter, Daniel Ponder tweeted the other day about how hes recently got a new knife, which is usually a big deal amongst cooks. He was saying how he still doesnt trust the knife and thinks heed need to lose a finger before the blade would accept him.
to those outside of this profession this might sound ludacrist, but not to us. The idea that blade and weilder must be on the same page and that the blade must temper itself to its new owner has been around for ever. Its about respecting your knife for what it is, it is your tool but also an extention of yourself if used properly. It can be your best friend or your worst enemy, there is no middle ground. The knife is regarded as almost a child, or even a women. One cringes when shes held by another cook, "dont touch my knife" is said with such reverence as "get your hands off my women, or man" it is literally the same feeling for me as when someone almost drops a baby or a vase or handles something of upmost importance improperly.
When i got my first real chefs knife, an 8 inch J.A. Henckel, i was afraid to use it. i had the same feelings as Ponder, that somehow i would lose much blood before I gained her respect. Its like that scene in Full Metal Jacket, "this is my rifle, there are many like it but this one is mine" there is an equal level of respect for the hunk of razor sharp steel.
at this time like an old married couple we have and understanding, i almost never cut myself, and when i do its because i was doing something stupid or not paying her enough attention.
If i put her up for for than a week i have to come back cautious, i have to mind my words and my actions and gently get back into rythym lest I shear off a digit.

yeah, on a side note, last night i was screwing around on the T.V. and stopped everso momentarily on B.E.T. black entertainment television- (entertaining and enlightening the masses for years, right?) something to the equivilent of Rap City was on, and the video i was watching shocked me. note from the author, I am no prude. I listen the speed metal, Ska-core, death metal, punk, 3rd wave ska. really hardcore shit most of the time, I'm very VERY political, i'm a rabid democrat and liberal and a cook to top it off. I routinely surround myself with vats of boiling shit, razor sharp knifes and fire for gods sake. i pretty freaking open minded and tolerant. but this video nearly killed me. like seriously, Aneurysm. It was CS BOYS with the hit song "Stanky Legg" nearly the entire song was i bunch of shifty lookin' niggas yelling at the screen "Do tha Stanky Legg!!!" to the beat of poorly produced beats and flashing lights. interspered in the the video were cuts of endowed women doing the Stank legg scantly clad, and A DANCE TROUPE OF 5-8 YEAR OLDS DOING THE STANKY LEGG EXACTLY LIKE THE ADULT WOMEN. if there were a video of little white girls doing the exact same thing, it would be considered pedophilia without a doubt. It was disturbing.
As a half black man i feel obligated to point out when either side of my heritage is acting suprisingly idiotic. At this point, I FEEL OBLIGATED.
Seriously, as a whole, it is time for the black populus to stand up and demand better music. I demand a return to funk, old-school politically conscience rap, MEANINGFULL SHIT! put a fucking HORN SECTION in the band! as a whole listeners of this garbage are being dumbed down into submission by record companies that will only sign idiots like the CS boys knowing that they will produce music like this. Cheap mass produced beats with guys screaming barely inteligible, barely ryming lyrics while video of naked women shaking their asses is played with video of 8 year olds shaking their asses. Something has got to be done. Please black people, a return to Biggie, heavy D and the boys, PUBLIC ENEMY, tribe called quest, the greats.
As a people it is time we stand up from out of this garbage and demand better music.

issues of confidence

i can honestly say that i've never cooked anything that just plain sucked. ever. Every plate has been edible and you know, relatively good for someone who loves food and cooks daily but only has few years experiance.

until today.

I fucking called myself trying Gnocchi, what a fucking disaster that was. to be totally honest i cant say it was totally horrible because ive never actually had gnocchi before. I researched recipes and made my own which was comprised from components from the better recipes.

it looked exactly like every picture of it ive ever seen. but the taste. somewhere between hot mashed potatoes. (not like done up buttery mashed potatoes, like cooked plain, mashed tubers)---and glue, covered in quite a lovely Genovese sauce tht turned out quite well.

i was crushed. i threw it all away and did an all hands on deck scrub down of my kitchen as punishment for having created something so foul.

i still dont get it, the recipewas followed exactly, water was salted, the best ingriedents were used, i just dont know what the fuck happened. i pulled them perfectly after the floated to the surface and everything. in about 15 minutes all faith i had in my culinary prowess had decipated.

i think it was mostly the pure shock that i was one of those people for the first time.

those people who makes jokes about how bad they cook. Im not like that, im the dude in my crowd going "fuck that, microwave meals, psssssh, i made braised beef ribs with roasted root vegetables last night" and feeling good because i know, that really, it was DAMN good, and these poor dumb bastards dont know what their missing.

I guess my point is this, the gods of the culinary olympus arent infallible, menus change for a reason and even Achatz, Adria, White and the rest of the countless greats have fucked up before. this is something I had to tell myself just to get myself right. the fact is repetition is something that is required to get good. Greatness may be a gift thrust upon some, but perfection of ones craft is something that must be earned through time, and respect and commitment and passion.

still pisses me off though.

Fuck it, im tired of having to go buy meat, next time im buying a whole primal.

poderances

My pantry is severely understocked. i dont mean like baking products and good shit i actually cook with. I mean like, hard times survival food. I took inventory today just to see what i'd have to sustain meeself in the event of a Zombie attack and I was really disapointed. i mean, as someone who cooks CONSTANTLY i feel i should have more, and better quality shit you know?
i had 2 cans of no name beets, which im not fond of, a can of field peas in jalapenos which i dont eat . A can of corn, one of peaches and a shady looking packet of ramen brandishing the original un updated wrapper.
I am ashamed. there was also a can of pumpkin. that sounds really weird. A can of pumpkin, like a bottle of potato. either way, i made a pie. homemade pumpkin pie made my own pie crust from scratch and made fresh whipped cream to go with. turned out rather well.
NOTES:
That pizza hut Lasagna shit is a disgrace.
bad guys be warned, i carry a straight razor in the lining of my chucks. And i will cut you open. Merrily.
SPAM is DEELISHUS on baguette
is it bad to use a mixed drink shaker on non alcholic drinks?

best damn butter i've ever had

Today i choked up 7 bucks for 2 deck of cards sized blocks of Normandy butter in effort to expand my palate.
Holy god.
first off, thats was the best damn butter i've ever had in my entire life, i softened it and spreaded it over crusty warm baguette drizzled with good olive oil. that was dinner. There was no need for more. i had a monster porterhouse steak en la frigadora and desided to just wait till tommorow, it was just to much to absorb.
well, some arugala, asian pear and procuitto and Havarti but no massive hunk of met as is my usual repass.
Bourdain is right, it does possess a subtley "cheesey" taste to the untrained bouche. i quickly got over it and enjoyed to meal.
heres a question: ever had a meal or drink that was so fucking good you were almost brought to tears?

give me your tired, poor, your huddled masses yearning to breath free

this blog is dedicated to the cooks,
we the tired, often the poor, who work the line. this is for the old school mercenaries and the new turks with fresh ideas. it is for the old master and the inspired amatuer. for the proffesor and the student.
All of us in the pursuit of the next meal. the better product, the cleaner service.