reflections of a sous chef

At A.'s house. He is cooking a late dinner. There is to be a roast chicken, accompanied by two kinds of squash and roasted carrots and parsnips.

Observation #1: Peeling a parsnip is much like undressing a coyish virgin. One must be delicate yet decisive. The strokes must be bold yet precise. Carrots require less finesse, if perhaps more vigor. They are the college freshman with two beers inside - drunk enough to want it, sober enough to pretend to put up a fight. (I peeled the carrots and parsnips. Did a damn good job, too.)

Observation #2: A whole uncooked chicken looks like . . . er. Well. Let's just say it makes impure thoughts come to mind. From a certain angle. Maybe it's just me?

Observation #3: Stripping thyme off the twigs (is there a real name for this activity? Deforestating? Something like that?) lends itself well to all sorts of terrible puns - "Hey, I'm just killing thyme," "We could all use a little thyme," "Not much thyme left," etc.

Observation #4: I look damn cute in an apron.

Observation #5: No, wait, I look quite fat and dumpy in this apron.

Observation #6: Fuck this, I'm taking the apron off.

Observation #7: Everything is nicer with a big glass of lovely Cabernet. Cheers!

chocolate

Spent part of the evening with Alex at the Chocolate Room. Discovered that overdosing on chocolate produces effects much like binge-drinking: first, a general effusively positive outlook on life, then sudden, sourceless outbursts of giggles, then a strange but not altogether unpleasant kind of dementia ("everything could be made of chocolate! That man might be chocolate! Can I eat him?"), followed by a sudden comedown (and a touch of nausea), at which point all you want to do is take a long nap and forget everything that happened.

All that aside, the place really is fantastic - the cocoa is to die for (I like the Cafe Torino, which is the 68%, livened up with a shot of espresso; add a cigarette and a hit of rum and you could call it a Renata special) and the desserts are all predictably exquisite. Nothing too inventive, just classic chocolate desserts prepared with skill and quality chocolate. (The kind that makes you realize that just because it's brown and sweet don't make it worthy of the name "chocolate." Hershey's, I'm looking at you.)

We also came up with an excellent new way for a Bond girl to die, considering previous history - drown her in chocolate! Alex pointed out that "bald man" Max Brenner could make a pretty good Bond villain. I just hope they don't call it "Brownfinger."

Just because it's the kind of entry, I feel the need to note that the world of chocolate is not inhabited only by gluttons and villains. For a different kind of tasty treat, check out one Fritz Knipschildt - gifted chocolatier, canny entrepreneur and sexy bastard.

And, yes, his chocolates taste as good as he looks.

That's all for tonight. Over and out.