Category: culture

Midway

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It is half way through that infamous month dedicated to self improvement, to healthy and fresh eating, to dramatic life style change, to ridding the body of the millions of toxins that have built up since the last great cleanse last year.

I am a little upset at how great I feel, how much energy I have, how perky I feel once I tear myself out of the bond of sleep.  I wish I didn’t feel so dang good, because I can see again how much my fast and loose lifestyle has been bringing me down.

Half way through and I am disillusioned with my new, full dedication at keeping health first and the partying minimal, saved only for real celebrations. I am making all these promises to myself:  I am not going to stress drink, I am not going to spend all my extra money taking cabs and picking up the bar tab, I am not going to get addicted to sugar again, I will not cave and eat out every week.  I will do my stretches daily, I will start to meditate, I will read more.

Come February I am not going to digress back into my normal self, I am going to behave like an adult, I am going to eat great, save money, and go to yoga class with all that I save on tequila and red wine.  Next month, I will not give in to the pressures of fried food, of endless amounts of deliciously aged cheese, of sandwiches piled high with bacon, to fancy expensive cocktails with exotic ingredients.  Next month, you will see, so I hope.

Deceptive Desires and Delusive Dreams

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Sometimes you change only to remain the same.  Nothing appears to be different, everything still behaves the same, but something has been influenced, something has shifted, nudge a little, despite similar outward appearances.  Not everything is so obvious.

Sometimes the lesson in your mistakes remains a mystery.  You didn’t learn anything, you haven’t grown an inch, the only thing is that you feel like a fool.  Not every lesson can be studied.

The rules have never been fair, and you have to cheat to win.  But karma is king so watch that fancy step.

You will never find what you are looking for as long as you keep a watchful eye open.  Once you go blind to your wishes, they will stare you in the face. As soon as you give up, you will get the winning hand.

You can’t want what you really want, you have to make it up as you go along.  Life is full of surprises and you have to keep an open mind to what you get.

 

 

Toasted Love

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Finding flavors alive in the dead of winter is not the same as the flourishing spring, but we can still get that feeling of excitement and jubilee in this frozen wonderland.

For this dish I focus on the flavor of the amazing Maillard reaction, or more widely know as toasted.  The Maillard reaction is similar to caramelization , but the flavor is not as strong.  This is the magic spot that occurs before caramel, it is a browning process when the sugar reacts with amino acids, around 300 degrees Fahrenheit.  It is what happens when you put bread in the toaster, it is what happens when you start to smell the cookies baking in the oven.  The Maillard is amazing, and I love it.  That is why I chose to focus on this beautiful reaction for Valentine’s  day brunch: I did it for love.  I did it because Milliard represents that toasty warm feeling of butterflies in your stomach, stars in your eyes, a smirk on your lips, a giggle under your breath.  The feelings of love, the feeling a coziness, the feeling of comfort, content, and closeness.

I want to represent various flavors of the browning process, to create a subtle yet complex taste.  There is caramelized white chocolate ganache – toasty, sweet, creamy, and downright heavenly, brown butter milk solids- nutty, rich, and aromatic, oatmeal streusel- for texture and to add comfort, a touch of cinnamon for warmth, and finally a coffee cake sweetened with unrefined sugar- to add depth, to add a unique sweetness, to add character.  This is topped with a light sherry vinegar and unrefined sugar glaze, to add pop to the sugar, to give definition to the toasty and sweet flavor profiles.

The taste of love, the feeling of comfort, the joy of winter.

 

 

 

Effing

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Fast forward frantically and freaking out foolishly

Faking fantastical feats, feverishly focusing with fascination

Forget the fictitious facts

Forego the foresight

Frankly feel fuzzy and freaky

Freely face the ferocious fight

Fists first and fright forgotten

First from forever,

Faith in the familiar,

Fancy the fabric of the fabulous

 

 

 

 

Art and Chemistry

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The sporadic and chaotic beginning of chemical reactions is inclined to make a pattern out of destruction, instead of a random scattering of debris like one might suspect.  Out of this damage, a balanced and beautiful work of art is born.  Nature is inclined to form perfect circles, straight lines, diamond shapes, perfectly fitting hexagonal and pentagonal pieces, out of this world colors, that spin and dance in the joy of its own beauty.  The humble rain drop transforms into a symmetrical, intricate star shape that glitters in even a hit of light.  Weightless and carefree the snow flake wanders down to the earth, taking its time to float in the wind, play in the breeze, bragging about its beauty before it sinks and disappears into the ground.  The death of a star paints a picture full of color, movement, and energy casting an astounding sense of awe, wonder, amazement, and intrigue.  Each death is unique and beautiful, a supernova combination of intense color and 3D design bursting with some much imagination that is hard to believe that this was not the star’s intended purpose.

Nature finds a way to be inherently beautiful and balanced, creating robust colors and visually appealing motifs out of ordinary circumstances.  After a process that distorts, explodes, fizzes, sparks, or combust, it produces something that was greater than how it started out.

Grains of Sand from Ancient Supernova Found in Meteorites

Confused Obsession

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Simply and symmetry obsessed

Balancing tightly in a wide open space

It’s a clear night for a clean start.

Sometimes straight lines can be inspiring

Sometimes a blank page can be complicated.

Overwhelmed with the color in the world,

I stick to black and white.

 

 

 

 

 

Reality According to Observation

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The Modern Man’s Riddle:

If you didn’t take a picture of it

Did it even exist?

Or rather, if it is not documented then is it even worth making?  Food art is temporary, but if it is not showcased through a photo, how can you capture the essence of the moment?  Is the sense of satisfaction of the eater not enough to make the dish worthy of high praise?

The answer is to raise your own person awareness and savor the moment. The art of food is in the playing of tastes and textures on your tongue, it is about the innovative use of ingredients, it is about surprising flavor combinations, it is about nutrition and fuel as much as it is about plate presentation.  It is great to be in love with what is on your plate and the beauty of food, but a picture cannot taste, photographs do not need nutrition, and you cannot rely on a snapshot to salivate your glands.  This obsession of documentingpoignant observations applies to food as much as it does to appreciating any kind of temporary beauty.   Things cannot be preserved, especially food and nature.  Hiding behind a camera and relying on this snap frame to preserve the feeling of excitement and the thrill of curiosity will only take you away from the reality of the experience.

A picture may be worth a thousand words,

But poetry is priceless.

Friday Night Rush

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Tucked away in the corner of the train I am surrounded by the calm masses that are in a hurry to get home. Sardined in my seat, squished in my spot, silently we wander wayward towards home.  The subdued rush is content with the distraction found in the small handheld phone. Conversations rage on silently, games are individually studied with concentrated attention, eyes are trained at the tiny yet enthralling miniature screen. The train car packed with people, without an inch to give on all sides, remains quiet.  There is nothing to say to the fellow strangers, nothing to talk about on this trip away from the week of work.  Only the gentle sway of the train teetering on the parallel tracks, rocking us like children to our final destination, is the full extent of the action in this crowd.  The silent soldiers of the work force are content passing through the dark and rainy evening.  The train gradually empties as I slowly speed home, fresh air fills the vacated spaces.

Tidy Traditions

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Why is the tradition spring cleaning?  I go for a good old winter clean myself.  When you are stir crazy and surrounded by all your own junk, all those towers of disorganization, flanked by dust bunnies hiding in most corners and underneath positively everything, that’s when I get inspired for change.  Its not like there is anything else to do anyways.  Spring is for fun, to start getting a tan, to relish in the warm wind blowing on your skin, to savor every second of like 3 months of merriment and summer fun.

Hibernating in the house is time for life improvement, to find organization in your pantry, straight lines in the rugged piles of cloths, fresh paint in the room behind the forever closed door.  Throw away half of the house and get ready to being a new cycle of cluster.

 

Turning the Tables

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I complain about the negatives of kitchen life and the hardship that go along with this career path.  I don’t need to sum up all the drawbacks and inherent wrongness of this job line, so I will consolidated all my complaining into a list for those who may still be in the dark: it generally sucks all around, it’s hard and nobody ever says good job, no vacation time, no sick days (unless you are in the hospital, and deep cuts do not always counts, depends on if it’s a holiday in which case the answer is always no), fire, very sharp knives, very hot things that want to burn you, heavy things, competitive environment, egotism, low pay sometimes even no pay, no respect, sometimes you get yelled at like you are a child misbehaving, incompetent coworkers who get paid the same, small working environment, no privacy, constant harassment, you have to fight for the tools you need, you have to clean a lot, no sitting down, if you do get to eat that will be while standing.

So instead of further complaining, we are going to change the hands of power.  People need to eat, that demand will never go away.  Beyond job security, the stability is intrinsic.  I can take a break, walk away, say fuck you hungry people I am going to be a writer!  I will break your heart and you will hate me.  But when I say, hey, I am back in town, want something to eat?  You will not say no, you will not refuse my cool offer of a hot meal.

I want to travel everywhere on this great and green planet.   This wish is very conflicting with working in a restaurant.  But what if I could cook from home, making delicious and healthy meals, sell enough product so that I can give myself 2 months off a year?  I could be private chef for any special occasion.  I will be your very own caterer.  I will bring my own pots and knives, and I will be polite and cook and serve.  I will wash the dishes and you will pay me a good amount of money because it will be very nice.  Think about wearing whatever you want while you eat a fancy meal, instead of those stuffy clothes.

Sounds crazy, but you don’t know how good I am at being poor.  I have been refining my skill for decades now.  Food for motivation, your reality is what you make it.