food for thought

Fried chicken, mac and cheese, waffles, bacon, are you drooling yet? Such were this morning's brunch delights. As I shoved a spoonful of warm gooey cheesy goodness into my bro-in-law's mouth, his eyes closed in sheer delight. The occasion for this fat fete was my brother in law's birthday. If you asked me his age I couldn't tell you, but it was just the excuse I needed to whip up some comfort soul food to enjoy this beautiful Sunday. It really doesn't take much to please a man, just fry something and they are instantly happy, hey who am I kidding, if you put a plate of fried food in front of me I'm the same way! Over the years, being married to a part-time chef has given me the ability to become a better cook. I have always enjoyed cooking and even entertained the idea of culinary school. That idea quickly dissipated the minute I set foot in the kitchen of my first real restaurant job. Being a girl, gross was the only thought that popped into my head. Cooking on a line is dirty, stinky and labor intensive. Not only are you cooking food at an extremely fast rate, but you have egomaniacal chefs and psycho servers to deal with as well. The hours are long and the clean up at night's end appears endless. My husband does this four times a week. He does it with such aplomb that you know he's been working it too long. Somehow he manages(usually) to not let the nightly insanity drive HIM insane. I have seen him launch a chair out the kitchen's back door when a server wasn't doing their job, but that story is for another day. Kitchen work is not all glory and Wolfgang Puck. You have to do your time, work your way up and than if you're lucky someone gives you a break and puts you in charge. The headaches don't stop there, oh no, than you have to please your customers. Cooking for the general public makes for one slippery slope. You want to show off your creativity yet somehow please them as well(if you want to make money that is), but not everyone loves foie gras or sweetbreads or that freakin pasta special that won't go away. Ah, what can I say, glad I didn't follow that path. Cooking for me and for most I would imagine is about your senses. Chocolate and cinnamon and red wine. Pasta and tomato and garlic. You get the picture. Being creative I am ruled by my senses. This is not always a good thing. Practicality tends to fall by the wayside when I am confronted with overwhelming sight, sound, smell, touch, taste. When I smell a good pepperoni pizza I swear I positively swoon. This morning's feast had that ability as well. When I took my first bite of that damn mac and cheese I almost slobbered it was so good. I could also feel my derriere expanding as well, in fact I think my pants ARE tighter this evening. Oh well, small price to pay for something so divine, I'll run tomorrow. Food is healing, comforting, even sexual. Oysters and vodka. Lobster, saffron, champagne and caviar. Life gets so crazy that sometimes a big cheeseburger is the only way to make us happy. Well after that meal this morning, I don't think I'll be eating a cheeseburger anytime soon, but just the thought of it makes me smile. . and drool a little. Goodnight world. Oh and happy birthday brother-in -law of mine.