Wednesday, November 30, 2005

Hire This Cook

In Wednesday’s Times, Elizabeth Maker writes about super star chefs who make house calls at a whopping $1,000 per person. I don’t want to tread on capitalism or anything but really, can the quality of their pork chops charcutiere really be that much better than mine?

I’m sure Thomas Keller and Daniel Boulud are crazy good cooks. Having eaten in Mr. Boulud’s place once, I can attest to the high level of art he practices. And if he’s looking to make dinner in Brooklyn some night, I have a working range for him. But to spend upwards of several thousand dollars for these rock stars and their posse’s to fry onions in my kitchen for my friends is just wrong.

Again, I’m not trying to criticize the apparent foolishness associated with the way some folks handle currency…. OK, I am. What idiot would be such a cook-groupie to pay the fortunes these guys charge!?!

Is it worth it? Maybe the answer lives somewhere in the conversation about having it and spending it. What to some is a fortune, to others is but a few cents. Or maybe it’s simple economic theory of supply and demand. Although I’m tempted to link this with the masses of starving children around the world that would be way too easy and frankly, a little far off base.

I think the reason I’m ranting has more to do with domestic wealth disparity anyway. Maybe I can work it out if I limit the scope to that.

Many of us cooked, entertained and ate a little too much last week. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t. But the pleasure derived from the preparation and consumption with family of a pretty stock turkeystuffingpotatosquashsaladpie meal was enhanced by the fact that it didn’t cost a whole lot. This, notwithstanding the $90 of cheese we bought. I would not have experienced the same pleasure had I hired Pierre and his primly outfitted toadies to do my work.

It should be obvious that I prefer doing things myself. The joke around our house is that if I could have gotten my hands on the right tools, I would have cut the diamond I bought for E’s engagement ring. I stop short when it comes to surgery or any electrical work on the other side of the breaker box. Anything else is fair game – maybe that’s how I came to be so familiar with food preparation and plaster work. Sure, I will allow others to do things for me so long as I’m sedated and tied up.

But back to overpriced cooks. The real issue for me might be the abundance of disposable capital here in our small fraction of the world. Reading the Times might give the impression that there is something rational about this form of insane spending. It is not rational. It’s too much. Economically, because of our good fortune, some of us have the wherewithal to blow wads of cash on not only 3-star chefs but also industrial size SUV’s, palatial mansions, exotic vacation adventures and, getting very personal, on really good cheese.

Under our abundance driven society, people have the right to charge what ever the market can stand for their products and services. And people will pay, or so it seems, anything for the products and services if they are marketed as rare or unique. Maybe we have Mr. Ponzi to thank or more realistically, P.T. Barnum.

Please contact me to discuss pricing and terms and conditions for making tamales at your house.

Tuesday, November 22, 2005

Cafe Praia da Vitoria

After college I worked briefly in the Azores as a shipwright for a Dutch national (mad man) who was building the largest Piver designed, ketch-rigged trimaran in the world. I used to spend my time after work in an old café in downtown Praia da Vitoria. For a few escudos I could buy a big café com lait and basically sit there all afternoon sketching the farmers and fishermen who wandered in after their workday.

The proprietor was a very quiet, stern older man who pulled glass after glass of café for the men with the minimum amount of movement behind the bar.

Although the cabinets lining the walls of the café were stocked with beautiful full bottles of porto, I can’t seem to recall anyone beside myself ever asking to drink it.

I’m sure it’s all changed now.

Tuesday, November 15, 2005

Why do I cook?


Why do I cook? Why do I prefer baking desserts to savory food preparation? How come I believe the world would be a better place if everyone had the wherewithal to just gather to prepare a meal together?

In crisis, I cook. In uncertainty, I bake. To reconcile, I make dinner for my former adversary. To celebrate, I assemble cake. When mourning, I make stock, slowly simmering out the last bits of flavor from bones and vegetables. When I’m angry I roast meat and fry onions. To console I don’t cook; I simply make myself available to the consolee to go to a bar together to drink scotch.

To repay debt, I remit tamales. To entertain my children, I bake cookies, squeeze juice from limes, carve pumpkins, melt chocolate, peel apples (one apple – one strip of peel), mash potatoes, make gingerbread houses, griddle pancakes in the shapes of states, cook perfect over-easy eggs and eggs in a hat.

In homage to John Carroll Lynch’s character, Norm, in the movie Fargo who says to his pregnant wife, Marge, (Francis McDormand) as she is about to go out in the cold, “Ya gotta eat, Margie” then wakes up to prepare breakfast for her. For me, preparing meals for someone is a basic expression of affection. Most times I cook for others because I like them, because I want to comfort them, because I want to impress, seduce, surprise, amaze, shock or simply please them.

I don’t always cook with good intentions. I know I can make someone feel guilty by cooking for them. I am sometimes competitive with my cooking. My friend Patricia is just gifted. For my birthday she prepared banana splits with three kinds of homemade ice cream and scratch fruit syrups and purees. I got her back on her forty-fifth birthday when I made her a chocolate cake in the shape of a 45 record player. (I cast the 45’s in different colors of tinted white chocolate). Somehow the end result seems to nullify any less honorable intentions. After all, in the end there is food to eat.

By cooking, I announce myself, I demonstrate my existence – I cook, therefore I am maybe. But really, what better way to call attention to myself than preparing something good to eat?

Tuesday, November 08, 2005

Chocolate Torte

About 25 years ago, Anthony the Baker taught me about chocolate torte. I had never made cake without flour and was surprised at how sumptuous this type of dessert could be. I made Anthony’s cake many times over the years for special gatherings and celebrations - just your standard Ooh Ahh chocolate torte.

Then, on a lazy Sunday morning with the Times spread out all over the living room, while paging through the magazine, I came across this:

This was Anthony’s cake in drag. This was a chocolate torte with aspirations to direct. I made it that afternoon, then again for a friend’s birthday soon after. After I tasted it I realized just how grand a torte could be. This dessert might possibly be the first food item to be installed into the permanent collection of Museum of Modern Art.

It’s not easy to make. The steps take some calculations and you must be confident throughout the process. You must never serve the cake without either the chocolate leaves or fresh whipped cream.

When I first started seeing E, she was close to her birthday. We stayed out in the Hamptons with her oldest friends during that weekend. I prepared and served this for dessert the night of her birthday. The next day, her best friend predicted that either we would be married or she would have to take out a restraining order because I was a stalker. It’s only cake – right?

Chocolate, Walnut and Raspberry Torte

(I’m not going to convert this – go to www.megaconverter.com/mega2/ to transpose)

11 oz semi sweet or bittersweet chocolate
17 tbs unsalted butter
2/3 cups sugar (use super fine)
3 large eggs
1 tsp vanilla
1 cup ground walnuts (toast them first)
¼ cup fine bread crumbs or cake crumbs (I know cake crumbs?!?)
2 tbs dark rum
¼ cup raspberry jam
½ cup sliced almonds (toast them)

Preheat the oven to 375. Butter an 8-inch round cake pan and line the bottom and sides with parchment. Now lightly butter the parchment. For the glaze: Melt 8 tbs of butter with 7 oz of the chocolate in the microwave or double boiler. Set this aside. Melt the rest of the chocolate in a separate container and set it aside. In a mixing bowl, cream the rest of the butter with the sugar. Add the eggs one at a time. Add the melted chocolate (not the chocolate butter mixture) and the ground walnuts and crumbs. Pour the mix into the prepared cake pan and bake about 30 minutes just until it springs back to the touch.

Cool, unmold, sprinkle with rum and refrigerate for about 30 minutes. Spread the raspberry jam on top of the cake and refrigerate for another 10 minutes. Spread half the chocolate glaze over the top and sides of the cake and back into the icebox for 10 minutes. Spread the rest of the glaze over the cake and arrange the sliced almonds decoratively around the perimeter of the cake. Back into the icebox.

Chocolate Leaves

3 oz of the very best dark chocolate you can find
20 rose leaves, lemon leaves washed, rinsed and dried.

Melt the chocolate and use an artist’s brush to apply the melted chocolate to one surface of each leaf. After each leaf is coated, place it in the icebox until the chocolate is hard enough to hold its shape as you carefully peel away the leaf. You will have to experiment with the thickness of the chocolate application, the temperature of the chocolate and the time in the fridge. When you have as many as you can sanely make, refrigerate them until serving time.

One hour before showtime, remove cake from icebox and allow to come to room temperature. To serve, arrange fresh raspberries and whipped cream to make it look like the picture. Use a cricket bat to fend off potential stalkers.

Tuesday, November 01, 2005

Dia de Los Muertos

November 1st is All Saints Day. November 2nd is Dia de los Muertos. On these two days, Mexicans celebrate, well, death. Back in the Aztec days, pre-conquistadores, the indigent Mexican people honored their ancestors’ deaths during the later part of the year. The celebration has survived notwithstanding the Catholic Church and the Spanish invaders.

Food plays a big role in the celebrations. During the holiday, Mexicans assemble shrines to the dead in their homes. The shrines contain skulls, skeletons, photos of the deceased, candy and other edible offerings. In rural Mexico some families spend the day at the cemetery visiting the graves of long gone relatives. They decorate the site with marigolds and celebrate by eating and drinking.

Families might bring the favorite foods of the honored dead. Depending on the region, this could be tamales, mole, pasole, certainly tequila or mescal and pan de muerto – a rich, sweet egg bread.

To western sensibilities the tradition may seem odd. In fact, by recognizing and even celebrating death, it lessens the fear and mystery surrounding the ultimate ends we all face. Tonight, we’ll assemble our shrine to our lost loved ones and toast them with some of their favorite foods and maybe a sip of Cuervo.