Burnin' It

Is it pretentious to have a food philosophy? I have one, and I think my point of view may resonate with some folks out there. So much has been written about food and cooking it. Sure, we need to mangia every day to keep the flesh bag moving, so it makes sense. But why read my personal screed?

Given, most people like to eat. This is not for you, move along. Some people love to eat. You should stick around, this might entertain you. A few people can’t wait to stick the next piece of gooey, crunchy, sticky, meaty, exotic, spicy, luscious morsel into their pie-hole and chew on it. You plan your vacations on where you want to eat. You go the extra mile, spend the extra buck, spend a whole lot of your precious time brooding over what you want to masticate. That’s me. If that’s you, you’re gonna like this.

Point two, a lot of people claim they can cook. They dust of good ‘ole grandma’s recipe for meatballs every time they get invited to a gathering. They screw it up, because they don’t want to spend the money on real ingredients, cut corners when making it, or they just don’t have the knowledge or the skills to do it up right. Everyone tells them the meatballs rock just to be polite, even though they taste like rocks, and Mr./Mrs. I Think I Can Cook leaves patting themselves on the back--mission accomplished. Aren’t I special? Guess what? You’re not. You can go away now.

Some people do try. They look up recipes. Watch the cooking shows. They see something they might like, haul out the wallet, spend too much buying the chef ingredients. The recipe they picked is way over their heads, and they end up sad and depressed when they produce a flaming pile of shit. Do not despair. This may be a necessary step before you go on to the next stage. To be honest, I am not totally out of this stage.

Then you have the die-hards. People who realize you need to take the time, learn the basics, practice the skills. You realize it may be more important to know why food reacts the way it does when you apply heat, than knowing a fancy recipe. You know how to grill, sauté, sweat, deep fry, broil, braise, and roast. You know when, and to what, you apply these principles. You know that the keys to flavor are fat, spice, and brown. You have a food-pro, but you know how to use a knife.

We few, we happy few, we band of brothers, I wish to go on this culinary adventure together with you.

And by you I mean cooks, not chefs. We must all concede that we do not own walk-in coolers, huge convection ovens, salamanders, griddle-tops, or industrial ventilation. We must suffer with what we can fit in our house, and most importantly, what we can afford. I cook on a four-top electric stove. That’s a stove, not a range, and not a convection oven. Living in a McNeighborhood that doesn’t even have a gas line constricts my options. Yeah, I could get an induction cook-top, but I ain’t got that kind of bread. I’m guessing neither do you. Also, you can’t afford sea-urchin roe, truffles, or dry-aged prime. Even if you could, you couldn’t find it. While we can, from time to time, use such expensive and rare ingredients as pancetta. And we at least throw-down the cash for decent cuts every once in a while. For the most part, I concentrate on the stuff I can find, get it cheap, apply heat, knowledge, and time, and turn it into gold.

You know all that good shit peasant cooking the big time chefs are always talking about? We’re making it. The ingredients have changed with time. What used to be cheap is now expensive, and what used to be expensive… is mostly still expensive, with some exceptions.

Still with me? Let’s get to it.