Dinner Party
Dec. 21st, 2003 12:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fabrisseLast night ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
siderea and her young man (whose lj handle escapes me at the moment) came to dinner. We were joined by another friend, and I had apologetic emails from both the other people I'd invited who didn't come.
It was a lovely evening for me. Partially it was just nice to have conversation and music in the kitchen while I was cooking (not to mention help with the cleanup -- I love scadians, they think of these things).
I don't make Noordzee vissoep more than once a year. It's complex. It takes major shopping (thanks again to Siderea's young man who drove me home from the good grocery store). Things have to be timed correctly. It takes at least two large pots, three cutting boards, and lots of washing in very cold water. On the other hand, those who've tried it have enjoyed it, and it's one meal that I get requests for.
A few interesting cookery moments occured. The first happened when I was alone. I was checking the mussels before cooking and realized that they're alive.
It sounds silly (mostly because it is). It's not like I don't eat raw oysters, or that I've never had my lobster salad wave to me on it's way too the kitchen. I know that I'm higher on the food chain than they are. Still, for about 5 minutes there, I wasn't certain that I could go through with it.
Fortunately the scent of sauteeing pot herbs brought me to my senses and the stock was made.
The other moments both occured around my attempt at a frangipane tart. I forgot to buy ready made crust, so I made my very first pate brise from scratch. The resulting tarts were delicious, but not quite frangipane. I'll make the attempt again, with a different recipe.
I was making frangipane (or attempting it) becausesiderea loves it and her source has gone out of business. Ask her sometime about her gift philosophy. There are so few that I can give her, that I thought I'd try this.
I mentioned to the other friend who joined us that I was doing this, and she was extremely surprised that I would fix something that I'd never made before for a party. I never thought twice about it. Somewhere, deep down, I'm secure enough in my identity as a cook that it never occurred to me that the results could be horrible or inedible.
(Side rant: The good, health food/gourmet grocery store that I went to didn't have ground almonds. I don't own a food processor. I spent half an hour working out my aggressions on almonds with a hammer. My wrists were a little sore before bedtime, but I felt much more serene.)
The most relevant statement, though, is that I think of myself as a cook. Not a baker. There are jokes in places that take their foods seriously that cooks tend to be large people and bakers slim. Patissiers are the skinniest of all. The reason for this is that baking and pastry making are precision operations that take a delicate hand. Their practitioners therefore tend to be constantly burning off nervous energy -- hence the skinniness.
The pate brise mostly worked. The almonds weren't as finely ground as I'd've liked. Later, when I expressed my surprise that the crust was acceptable,siderea asked me if it was an identity issue. When I confirmed that it was she said that I contained a multitude of talents. It was one of the nicest things anyone's ever said to me.
Very late in the evening, I managed to find a little book on Magritte to show a picture that had deeply intrigued me when I saw it down in DC. The picture is here.
Today is full of questions
Once you realize universal emptiness, all objects are spontaneously penetrated: integrating the world and beyond, it contains all states of being within. If you lose the essence, there is nothing after all; if you attain the function, there is spiritual effect. The genuine path of unminding is not a religion for the immature.
-Fen-yang
siderea and her young man (whose lj handle escapes me at the moment) came to dinner. We were joined by another friend, and I had apologetic emails from both the other people I'd invited who didn't come.It was a lovely evening for me. Partially it was just nice to have conversation and music in the kitchen while I was cooking (not to mention help with the cleanup -- I love scadians, they think of these things).
I don't make Noordzee vissoep more than once a year. It's complex. It takes major shopping (thanks again to Siderea's young man who drove me home from the good grocery store). Things have to be timed correctly. It takes at least two large pots, three cutting boards, and lots of washing in very cold water. On the other hand, those who've tried it have enjoyed it, and it's one meal that I get requests for.
A few interesting cookery moments occured. The first happened when I was alone. I was checking the mussels before cooking and realized that they're alive.
It sounds silly (mostly because it is). It's not like I don't eat raw oysters, or that I've never had my lobster salad wave to me on it's way too the kitchen. I know that I'm higher on the food chain than they are. Still, for about 5 minutes there, I wasn't certain that I could go through with it.
Fortunately the scent of sauteeing pot herbs brought me to my senses and the stock was made.
The other moments both occured around my attempt at a frangipane tart. I forgot to buy ready made crust, so I made my very first pate brise from scratch. The resulting tarts were delicious, but not quite frangipane. I'll make the attempt again, with a different recipe.
I was making frangipane (or attempting it) because
siderea loves it and her source has gone out of business. Ask her sometime about her gift philosophy. There are so few that I can give her, that I thought I'd try this.I mentioned to the other friend who joined us that I was doing this, and she was extremely surprised that I would fix something that I'd never made before for a party. I never thought twice about it. Somewhere, deep down, I'm secure enough in my identity as a cook that it never occurred to me that the results could be horrible or inedible.
(Side rant: The good, health food/gourmet grocery store that I went to didn't have ground almonds. I don't own a food processor. I spent half an hour working out my aggressions on almonds with a hammer. My wrists were a little sore before bedtime, but I felt much more serene.)
The most relevant statement, though, is that I think of myself as a cook. Not a baker. There are jokes in places that take their foods seriously that cooks tend to be large people and bakers slim. Patissiers are the skinniest of all. The reason for this is that baking and pastry making are precision operations that take a delicate hand. Their practitioners therefore tend to be constantly burning off nervous energy -- hence the skinniness.
The pate brise mostly worked. The almonds weren't as finely ground as I'd've liked. Later, when I expressed my surprise that the crust was acceptable,
siderea asked me if it was an identity issue. When I confirmed that it was she said that I contained a multitude of talents. It was one of the nicest things anyone's ever said to me. Very late in the evening, I managed to find a little book on Magritte to show a picture that had deeply intrigued me when I saw it down in DC. The picture is here.
Today is full of questions
Once you realize universal emptiness, all objects are spontaneously penetrated: integrating the world and beyond, it contains all states of being within. If you lose the essence, there is nothing after all; if you attain the function, there is spiritual effect. The genuine path of unminding is not a religion for the immature.
-Fen-yang
re: marzipan
Date: 2003-12-22 07:31 am (UTC)But she asked so nicely for the hammer & she looked so cute while smashing the almonds on the kitchen island!!!! You can't take that away from me!!!!
-bryt %)
Re: marzipan
Date: 2003-12-22 08:24 am (UTC)"Hey, big boy, want to watch me smash some almonds?"
*g*
Re: marzipan
Date: 2003-12-22 04:07 pm (UTC)