Thinking Thanksgiving

As an avid reader and saver of food publications, I've grown accustomed to expecting certain magazine covers at specific times of the year: barbecue for the 4th of July, cookies for December, and of course, turkey for Thanksgiving. My mailbox has recently become plagued with pictures of perfectly roasted fowl set in "Grandma's" kitchen. These issues were written last year, when cranberries, pumpkin, and root vegetables were still in season, but other than the advertising copy, the years are indistinguishable.
Each year, every Thanksgiving issue proclaims it holds the secrets for perfect turkey, world's best side dishes, and pumpkin pie - better than ever! I'm starting to wonder now: if last year was so wonderful, why do I need another recipe for some variation of cranberry relish? And considering how popular fast food and ready made meals have become, how many of us are simply grabbing a can of jellied cranberry sauce off the shelf?
Thanksgiving is a tricky holiday for foodies. For those of us who cook professionally, it could be a time to show off to our extended family and cherished friends. After all, these people seek us out for dinner parties, is this not the perfect opportunity to solidify that reputation?
For my Thanksgiving feast, I'm going in the opposite direction. Sure, maple praline crusted breast of turkey with a spicy chili sauce and a side of braised endive would be tasty, but that's not tradition, and certainly not what my family expects. Part of being a great cook is knowing what will resonate with the diners, your audience.
For me, Thanksgiving will consist of the traditional lovingly roasted free-from-the-local-supermarket with coupon turkey, kid-approved vegetables, and slightly lumpy creme fraiche free mashed potatoes. After all, I'll be back in the restaurant soon enough!

Sqroppino say what?

A few months ago I had the opportunity to visit Italy as part of a school food and wine seminar. Italy is even more beautiful and delicious than I ever imagined and I fully plan on writing numerous posts about my time there. My first one, however, must be from Venice.
As one can easily guess, much of Venician cuisine focuses on fresh seafood. Although the romantic canals aren't used for fishing, the city itself is on the Adriatic Sea, giving the locals access to plenty of fish. As hauntingly beautiful as the city is, it provides the perfect backdrop for amazing food.
Many people are familiar with the name "Harry's Bar", the birthplace of Bellini. If you have 20 Euro (currently $35!) to spend, you can enjoy your very own Harry's Bar peach cocktail. But that's for the tourists!
One of the local secrets is sqroppino, a light aperitif. I can assure you my spell check is having fun with this word. Pronounced "scrow-peen-oh", this classic drink contains only 3 ingredients and can easily be made on this side of the pond.

Start with one cup of good lemon sorbet in a large bowl. As lemon is the main flavor of this drink, the sorbet must be minimally bitter without being overly sweet. Whisk in one cup of cold vodka. Feel free to use a less expensive vodka as it won't be used to provide flavor. Once you have everything well blended and airy, add one cup of prosecco. Fold in the prosecco until just combined as to keep as much of the carbonation as possible. If you are unable to find prosecco, asti spumante will give a similar product.
This recipe will serve 3. Be careful as it goes down very easily! Serve after a light fish entree or even in place of dessert. Sip it slowly and imagine you're overlooking the Grand Canal.

Color War: The Art of Presentation

Consuming food has evolved from a means of nourishment to an experience involving all five senses. We taste the food, hear the scraping of utensils on china, feel the textures, smell the aromas, and see what we are about to enjoy. Arguably, the first sense we use during this practice is sight, greatly adding to the concept "eat with the eyes". If this is indeed the case, presentation is more important than ever.

One presentation trend I hope is on the decline is adding finely diced red bell pepper to finished dishes. Sure, this is an easy way to add bright red to an otherwise dull plate. But is it ever worth sacrificing the delicate flavors of a perfect cheese omelet or lightly poached fish for a scattering of color? The same holds true for adding a sprinkle of almost dried parsley across the protein of an entree. Unless this specific herb will enhance the dish, it should not be used. In no way am I advocating never using fresh herbs to finish a plate. But why use parsley just for the green when it is just as easy to use chives, basil, rosemary, even mint, for the same color impact and some exciting flavor? Perhaps it's time to let parsley cash in its 401K and retire.

On the flip side, sometimes adding color must be done to preserve flavors. According to classical French cuisine, white pepper should be used in white dishes, while black must be used in darker dishes regardless of the flavor of the finished dish. Considering the sharpness of white pepper and the mellowness of black, this classic technique seems to sacrifice correct seasoning for pristine presentation.

I once worked for a French individual who fully subscribed to this idea. Everyday when I made mashed potatoes for my entremetier station, he reminded me to use white pepper. He thought that black specks made guests believe someone had burned the mashed potatoes. As I ground the pepper for the potatoes, I vowed to use it as sparingly as possible. Now, I've been described as an aggressive seasoner, something I am particularly proud of. When I eat something, especially in an elegant restaurant, I want to know that my food was seasoned. A scattering of black pepper in my potatoes makes me smile. Visible vanilla bean in my creme brulee indicates that the pastry chef does not cut costs with imitation extracts. Please, feed my eyes!

Chris

hospitality at its best

I wrote this back in January.

It's been a rough past few weeks, most events involved proving yet again how little control I have on everything. I know, I should and am grateful for the "big things" getting back on track but the little things sometimes make me overlook the positives.
Today, though, really made me smile.
I got this e-mail from Baskin-Robbins for a free scoop on my birthday. Months ago, I had entered a contest and got myself placed on their birthday club list. I had, of course, forgotten this. Anyone who knows my eating habits knows my love for frozen desserts, so this was an unexpected surprise. I printed out my coupon and decided to go while I was running errands later.
The man behind the counter barely spoke English, but he smiled warmly when I walked over. I presented my coupon and asked him if they accepted them. He asked me if it was my birthday and I told him it was. He wished me a sincere happy birthday, which made my day better. I was used to the brush off "have a nice day" after I pay for my random collection of groceries, so a simple "happy birthday" meant so much. The man showed the coupon to his coworker as he opened the freezer doors. She asked me if I was Christine and I said I am, waiting to be asked to show proof of ID. She also wished me an earnest happy birthday.
I picked out my flavor "Swiss Chocolate Treasure" and was ceremoniously handed my free scoop and a trademark pink spoon. I thanked them and as I walked out of the store, both of them called "Happy Birthday, Christine!" after me.
I sat in my car for a few moments, just relishing being happy.

The ice cream was terrible, grainy, with chewy chocolate ribbon running through, but it didn't matter. 2 people, both of whom will most likely never remember me if I passed them on a street, cared for a brief moment, as though my having a happy birthday actually impacted their lives.

Food at its almost worst, but perhaps, hospitality at its best.
~Chris

Bite

It's closing time now
and the doors open
Releasing me to a new version of my beloved city
I hit the streets in silence
Moving freely among the breed of souls opening their eyes to the light of the moon.
Their first words set to be a howl and a cocktail order.

I am free to wander now.
Having precious few hours
For sleep, shower (God, I need a shower),
and a pot of coffee.
Soon the day will begin
and I can come home again.

So it begins

Welcome to Life on the Line: the true stories of a professional foodie. By day, I'm a mild mannered culinary arts management student. By night, a line cook with a lot to say about culinary culture. I've had some interesting experiences: sour, spicy, bitter, and yes, even sweet. Ready for a taste? Stay tuned.

Chris

Disclaimer: names, locations, etc may be changed. The essence of the experience remains. Also, these words are mine, not yours. Don't steal!