I LOVE COOKING
I love cooking. Eating as well, but, mostly cooking. Ok, I lie. I REALLY REALLY REALLY love eating.
I will eat just about anything. Believe me when I say that. I have eaten things that have left me with the partial function brain that I do now (is that really a sentence?). You know, stuff like: library paste; paint chips (the good old fashioned lead based kind); mercury from a thermometer (once, and it was an accident. I accidentally bit through it); and last but not least, my dads cooking.
Dad was a career military man (over 28 years) so his idea of "tasty" cooking involves replicating the wonderful "chow hall" experience by utilizing extremely high heat (think White Dwarf Star going Supernova, kind of heat), long cooking times (use a calendar, not a timer) and differing combination's of the following seasonings:
1 Salt,
2. Pepper,
3. Flavor-A-Way, and/or
4. Taste-B-Gone
Dad's cooking motto is "Let the oven do the cooking". And by cooking I mean, leaching out every lick of moisture imaginable, rendering a 22lb succulent turkey into a 5lb mummified "turkey shaped"cigarette ash. Yummy!!! He also says "the meat fell off the bone". Yep, just like that cigarette ash fell off the filter. When he says he is making mashed potatoes, that is what you are getting. Mashed potatoes. No milk, butter, salt, pepper, garlic, etc. Mashed potatoes!!!
It took me moving away from home to realize that all vegetables do not come out of a can. There are actually even more choices than Creamed Corn, Whole Kernel Corn, String Beans and Peas. When I discovered the joys of fresh veggies, boy howdy did I freak out. I couldn't believe there were vegetables that were colors other than green or yellow.
And don't get me started on seafood. The most exotic seafood we would eat was Fish Sticks. Sometimes it was Friend Shrimp (but only in a restaurant). Fish Sticks aren't even fish. Ok, they do have "some" fish in them, but they have more filler than Hot Dogs or Head Cheese. I've seen how they get the fish. I was on fish processing ships in the middle of the Bering Sea. I've seen the assembly lines of cutting fish and the squeegees pushing the leftover parts into openings in the floor where the "fish stick" ingredients get sluiced. I digress. Woof. Back to cooking (and EATING!!!).
The one thing that I have yet to master, while cooking, is portion control. I am unable to cook for 1 or 2 people. Even though there are only 2 of us in the house, I invariably end up cooking for the entire neighborhood. If the neighborhood in question was, say, Chicago, there will still be leftovers. My friends love it, cause they get to eat yummy stuff as well. Corned Beef and Cabbage, Pasta with Meat Sauce/Seafood Sauce/etc. Sauce, Prime Rib, Crab Cakes. There are always too many. Our poor freezer is so jammed packed with leftovers, we couldn't fit a string of dental floss into it, if we wanted to.
Because I cook, I can be very judgmental about others cooking. I don't mean to be, I just am. Silently. Unless they ask how I like it. Then I have to tell them. In my own way. Which can be a bit crude, but then again, if Mother Theresa spent over 20 years in the military, I think she might of had the language of a sailor too. I only really have 3 food compliments.
Here they are (from worst to best):
"It's Good"- meaning it's not. It's the worse compliment I can give. I may as well
say "it's just like Dad used to make".
"It Doesn't Suck"- I'll even eat seconds.
"It'll Form A Stool"- You have to eat a lot of "something" to form a stool. I'm talking the "loosen
the belt Marge and keep your hands away from my face, I'm going in" kind
of helpings. There haven't been many meals that receive this compliment.
That's all I want to say about cooking and eating. I'll be in the kitchen having a bowl of cereal. There will be leftovers. Trust me!
I will eat just about anything. Believe me when I say that. I have eaten things that have left me with the partial function brain that I do now (is that really a sentence?). You know, stuff like: library paste; paint chips (the good old fashioned lead based kind); mercury from a thermometer (once, and it was an accident. I accidentally bit through it); and last but not least, my dads cooking.
Dad was a career military man (over 28 years) so his idea of "tasty" cooking involves replicating the wonderful "chow hall" experience by utilizing extremely high heat (think White Dwarf Star going Supernova, kind of heat), long cooking times (use a calendar, not a timer) and differing combination's of the following seasonings:
1 Salt,
2. Pepper,
3. Flavor-A-Way, and/or
4. Taste-B-Gone
Dad's cooking motto is "Let the oven do the cooking". And by cooking I mean, leaching out every lick of moisture imaginable, rendering a 22lb succulent turkey into a 5lb mummified "turkey shaped"cigarette ash. Yummy!!! He also says "the meat fell off the bone". Yep, just like that cigarette ash fell off the filter. When he says he is making mashed potatoes, that is what you are getting. Mashed potatoes. No milk, butter, salt, pepper, garlic, etc. Mashed potatoes!!!
It took me moving away from home to realize that all vegetables do not come out of a can. There are actually even more choices than Creamed Corn, Whole Kernel Corn, String Beans and Peas. When I discovered the joys of fresh veggies, boy howdy did I freak out. I couldn't believe there were vegetables that were colors other than green or yellow.
And don't get me started on seafood. The most exotic seafood we would eat was Fish Sticks. Sometimes it was Friend Shrimp (but only in a restaurant). Fish Sticks aren't even fish. Ok, they do have "some" fish in them, but they have more filler than Hot Dogs or Head Cheese. I've seen how they get the fish. I was on fish processing ships in the middle of the Bering Sea. I've seen the assembly lines of cutting fish and the squeegees pushing the leftover parts into openings in the floor where the "fish stick" ingredients get sluiced. I digress. Woof. Back to cooking (and EATING!!!).
The one thing that I have yet to master, while cooking, is portion control. I am unable to cook for 1 or 2 people. Even though there are only 2 of us in the house, I invariably end up cooking for the entire neighborhood. If the neighborhood in question was, say, Chicago, there will still be leftovers. My friends love it, cause they get to eat yummy stuff as well. Corned Beef and Cabbage, Pasta with Meat Sauce/Seafood Sauce/etc. Sauce, Prime Rib, Crab Cakes. There are always too many. Our poor freezer is so jammed packed with leftovers, we couldn't fit a string of dental floss into it, if we wanted to.
Because I cook, I can be very judgmental about others cooking. I don't mean to be, I just am. Silently. Unless they ask how I like it. Then I have to tell them. In my own way. Which can be a bit crude, but then again, if Mother Theresa spent over 20 years in the military, I think she might of had the language of a sailor too. I only really have 3 food compliments.
Here they are (from worst to best):
"It's Good"- meaning it's not. It's the worse compliment I can give. I may as well
say "it's just like Dad used to make".
"It Doesn't Suck"- I'll even eat seconds.
"It'll Form A Stool"- You have to eat a lot of "something" to form a stool. I'm talking the "loosen
the belt Marge and keep your hands away from my face, I'm going in" kind
of helpings. There haven't been many meals that receive this compliment.
That's all I want to say about cooking and eating. I'll be in the kitchen having a bowl of cereal. There will be leftovers. Trust me!
posted by Slab at
10:30 PM
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