Eat with me, Drink with me.

A short list of Don’ts for Food Shows

Partially inspired by Food Network’s The Best Thing I Ever Ate

Things you should always avoid:

• Close ups of man-lips eating anything. 
• Close ups of fingers touching greasy food (ie. Fried chicken). 
• Saying the word “crunch” more than once per food experience. 
• Overdoing the description of the moment of bliss. Tell me about the food, get me there, fine, say the word “crunch,” add in a little bit of, “moist,” “perfect,” make your food orgasm face, insert some B roll of the place and dish you are talking about, and get the Fuck out. If, in your description, you’ve already “taken a bite,” you’ve gone too far. 

Gah—Foodnerd Moment

This morning, my birthday present from my parents arrived in the mail. It was a Japanese Coffee Syphon [sic]. I realize I’ve reached some high rank of food-dick when I now have TWO ways to make coffee in my home, and neither of them involve putting the coffee and water in the machine and pushing the on button. 

The basic idea behind this one is actually really simple, despite the home-meth-lab look to the device. You put ground coffee in the top part, and water in the bottom part (which I will refer to as the “glass bulb,” over and over again). You then put this totally awesome butane burner underneath the bottom glass bulb, which boils the water. The water goes up the glass tube into the top part and mixes with the coffee. You then mix the coffee and water gently with the very Japanese bamboo paddle, and remove the heat. Within about 20-30 seconds the glass bulb cools, creating a vacuum, and pulls the brewed coffee back into the glass bulb through the filter. The grounds up on top are left nearly dry. And you have really poncy bourgeois coffee in your glass blub, ready to be poured into your morning cup. It’s so god-damn cool!

And now, my favorite moment in while: The one thing my siphon did not arrive with was butane, so I left my house at about 8AM, in search of it from the local hardware store. The first place I tried, was reasonably busy, full of customers. When I asked the guy if they had butane, he goes, “nah. Propane.” I go, “Okay.” He goes, “What do you need it for.” I hesitate for a moment and say something like, “a kitchen burner,” and pantomime my little busnon burner style burner. Then I do what I shouldn’t have. I say, “Do you know anywhere in the neighborhood that might have it?” Because this prompts the other customers to get involved. They start saying something like, “propane is fine, its met-gas [not sure if that’s what he really said], it’s all the same.” And he goes, “naw, he needs if for a cream brulay thing.” And he looks at me, and goes, “like for a cream brulay thing, right?” And I really wanted to be like, “NO!” Because, ahem, this is for a coffee siphon, NOT a bourgeois boring, creme brule desert that’s, um, so, old, GOD! But, really, my only choice was to say, “Yeah, kind of.” 

They had it at the next place I tried, and they didn’t ask my what I needed it for. 

The coffee was fantastic. 

Microwave Dinner Party

With me, I realize, food comes in trends. I find a new obsession, which I’ll consume and inevitably burn out on. (And if it really was a worthy pursuit, it’ll slowly return). I’ve recently been busier than ever(look ma, we’re in the NYTimes!), and as a result have been obsessed with efficiency of cooking. It goes without saying that takeout everyday is bad for the wallet and the constitution—ergo, alack and alas, there’s been a budding thesis somewhere in my recent hurried sessions to market and kitchen—a kind of food that I should be eating on the hum-drum, just got home from work, everyday kind of way.  

My thesis is such: the food has to be honest food, and food that is tasty, fun, and still exciting to eat. It also has to be everyday sustenance food—stuff that builds energy and health (sorry short ribs and pork belly, you’re not an everyday food for me). The key, though, is that it should strike some balance between convenience and low impact. Equal servants to the gods of local, sustainable,  modern, technological, and, I’m so tired from working all day, I just want to eat something already. 

There are two things that have wormed their way into my mind. First the freezer. Whether or not it’s full, It sits there on, 24/7, 365 days a year. (The ConEd subway ads also echo in my head, I believe a full freezer is a more efficient freezer—and when I think about how a dense cast iron pan retains more heat, it makes sense). Second, the microwave—a real untapped resource. When the two are used correctly, it can greatly speed up the preparation of great food, minimize cleaning, and allow me to actually use fresh ingredients.

I am not talking about frozen prepared dinners (stuff like amy’s is great in a pinch, but again, not the every day option). I’m talking about steaming some fresh brocoli in the microwave, mixing that with some chopped pickled chilis I made over the weekend, tossed with some leftover grain, a can of legumes, and some don’t-fuck-with-me-this-is-good vinaigrette. Like 20 minutes to hot delicious dinner. 

…

So naturally I began my newly rabbled foray into simple microwave preparations with with a recipe I found in the current issue of Lucky Peach—something that requires five different individually prepared components, a whip cream siphon (the thing you charge with nitrous canisters), and a metric scale. But I DID make sponge cake in the microwave in 30 seconds. If you leave out the part that it took over an hour (and three seperate attempts) to make all the individual compents. And naturally I couldn’t help myself, and turned it into a “make your own dessert,” at a recent dinner party. I wouldn’t call it a failure, and I wouldn’t call it a success. That I got distracted and sprayed myself and two of my friends in the hair, face, and nice clothes with whip cream, well that make it all the worthwhile. Stay tuned for my adaptation of the microwave strawberry short-nerd-cake.