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
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no subject
Date: 2003-12-21 12:45 pm (UTC)But it also made something occur to me that I should have thought of ages ago. I have a food processor which has been in the back of a closet for close to a decade- I inherited it from my sister, who had it as an innappropriately expensive gift from a guy she briefly dated. She didn't feel comfortable keeping it once they broke up, and except for using the blender part for a few months when I was between smaller individual units, I've just kept the whole thing in storage, because I simply don't do the sort of cooking that would make it worth using.
It's an older model, of course (circa 1992). And I did break the big mixing bowl that goes w/ it (the small one is still there). But otherwise it is still complete, as far as I know, and I think I even still have the manual.
If you might have any use for it at all, it would be one more piece of not-really needed junk I could clear out of my apartment for the coming year.
no subject
Date: 2003-12-21 06:33 pm (UTC)Ask her sometime about her gift philosophy.
You misspelled "psychosis", there. ;)
a multitude of talents
Actually, the quote was "you contain multitudes, all of them talented"; yours is true too, but I thought mine more poetic. ;)
I was under the impression that frangipane involved marzipan. (It's sweet, it tastes almondy, so I lept to that conclusion.) Would that solve the labor problem?
b
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 %)
no subject
Date: 2003-12-22 08:14 am (UTC)I probably won't use it often myself, but the few times when I do need it I'll have it.
Thank you, and I'm sorry that you didn't get my invitation in time.
no subject
Date: 2003-12-22 08:22 am (UTC)On the scadian thing, I consider talking to me -- with or without harping -- to be a huge help. I don't mind doing the work, I just hate the boredom factor. *g* You're right though
Your gift giving thing that starts with a "p" is too well reasoned to be a psychosis. I think.
Marzipan and frangipane are definitely kissing cousins. Marzipan is equal amounts sugar and ground almonds turned into play-dough with rose water. None of the frangipane recipes that I found used marzipan as a starting point, and I think the rose water would alter the flavor of the finished product.
I chose that frangipane recipe as my first mostly because it had no flour in it and I thought that would make it more almondy. Back to the drawing board. You know that I love to experiment. And now that I'm feeling relatively secure in my pate brise ability, I won't be afraid to try again.
Thanks for a lovely evening.
Re: marzipan
Date: 2003-12-22 08:24 am (UTC)"Hey, big boy, want to watch me smash some almonds?"
*g*
no subject
Date: 2003-12-22 01:01 pm (UTC)Re: marzipan
Date: 2003-12-22 04:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-22 04:09 pm (UTC)Wait, are you referring to what I explained about charity? I don't have a philosophy of gifts, I have an allergy of gifts. But I remember mentioning to you Maimonides' heirarchy of charity at some point. Was that what you're thinking of?
no subject
Date: 2003-12-22 07:46 pm (UTC)However, if you see something that reminds you of the person, you'll buy it and give it to them. I have a couple of things that you've given me that I treasure. And I've found only two things in the years I've known you that have screamed your name, and they are now yours.
I like it. I would much prefer to give things to the kids I know when I think of them than wait for an appropriate holiday.
Did I get it right? You say psychosis; I say philosophy.*g*
I've been trying to find out more about Maimonides and specifically the hierarchy of charity, too. My biggest problem has been not finding anything on shelves and being very leery of the customer comments on the potted versions of his stuff at Amazon. I feel like many of them are using an exclusionary slang -- a kind of "more enlightened than thou" attitude.
It's one of the problems that I find with 'spiritual' books. So few will break it down to the simplest terms; there's always an underlying assumption that you've come to this book from somewhere else and first principles therefore need no explication.
no subject
Date: 2003-12-22 08:34 pm (UTC)Put "Maimonides charity eight" into Google and read the first two or so entries.
I'm disappointed that none of the translations online continue through the chapter in which the heirarchy appears. Maimonides -- the most famous Jewish theologian of the 12th century -- goes on to explain the responsibilities of those giving and receiving charity, including asserting "It is better to chop wood and hew stone on the sabbath rather than accept charity", IIRC. I definitely remember nearly dropping the book in surprize at that point.