Redemption. More like comedic experimentation.
At the end of my work day a week or so ago, I jumped into Epicurious to look for a fritatta recipe for family members who were arriving for dinner in just a few minutes.
Had zucchini, farm eggs, sweet onions, a bit of hard, sharp cheese and fresh herbs on hand. Had voluptuous greens for a simple salad, and a couple of nice bottles of Pinot noir and Sauvignon blanc. Also had a loaf of Blue Oven Bakery’s Ten-Grain bread (BOB’s description, “A hearty sourdough with a mix of ten grains and seeds. This loaf has a sweet, nutty flavor.” can no more describe the sensual wonder of the product than can one describe the experience of eating a perfect piece of fruit. Totally experiential. It’s only one of many such wonders in their repertoire.)
A quick saute of the vegetables, a quick stir of the egg mixture, and in it went under the broiler only to set off the fire alarm as it burned. An unexpected extra dose of carbon in the diets of my guests. A humbling experience.
I could hear Julia Child singing “never apologize” in her PBS series The French Chef, a technique I employed expeditiously as I saved what could have been an unservable mess. Fortunately, my family’s sense of humor was in place, and the meal progressed as planned.
Last night’s dinner had a redemptive quality, if only to again feel the humor in what is truly the often comedic experience of cooking. This time I used kale, golden potatoes, garlic and a sharp Romano with a different result.
So, retain a sense of humor about whatever you venture into in the kitchen. I’m a great proponent of exquisite cooking technique, but not at the expense of losing my sense of humor about the grand adventure of it all.
Cook, feel and laugh.