I am a lucky woman...especially when I'm hungry. I have a live-in boyfriend who can cook like a professional chef and doesn't mind me hanging around the kitchen drinking wine and getting in his way and pretending to "help." My idea of cooking generally involves one or a few of the following: I boil some pasta or rice, steam some vegetables, open a can of beans, toss all the leftovers in my fridge into a tortilla, and call it dinner...or I pick up the phone and order Chinese. The boyfriend does not believe in my version of cooking and is generally content for me to boycott the kitchen altogether (except for breakfast on the weekends...I scramble some mean eggs), as long as I help clean up. Which I do...most of the time...
Anyway, because we're not too big on getting stressed out for silly Hallmark holidays, and I had to work at the bar on Valentine's Day, we didn't make our traditional romantic dinner until last night. We started this tradition many years ago back in college out of necessity, because we were poor -- we pick a main ingredient we wouldn't normally eat (we started with tuna steaks, then moved onto veal, etc.), we pick out an interesting recipe, we go shopping for all the ingredients together, buy a nice bottle of wine, then cook romantically all evening and watch a movie that isn't sappy, but interesting. I think one year we watched "Rosemary's Baby." How's that for Valentine's Day?
Last night when I got home for work, we already had all the ingredients waiting for us and we dove right in. I chopped stuff, drank excessively, and bitched about my family, while he did all the heavy lifting and allowed himself to be splashed with grease. How sweet! We ended up with heavenly red potatoes roasted in duck fat and simply seasoned with salt, pepper, and parsley... Red cabbage and apples braised in apple cider vinegar... A huge (a.k.a. expensive) and very rare steak from the Brooklyn Kitchen, with a heavenly red wine, herb, and carrot sauce... and some "kick in the face" Chasing Lions wine. All this while watching "I'm Not There," which oddly enough for a Bob Dylan fanatic, I had not seen.
The meal made me think... I don't eat red meat very often, but when I dig into a really good steak that has been meticulously prepared by my boyfriend, I really appreciate the time and effort put into cooking it to perfection - or rather, the lack of time, since a really good steak shouldn't be cooked for very long. He decided 6 minutes per side would be just right. And it was...
I also appreciate the fact that an animal lived and died to make my meal. Thanks, Mr. Steer. I hope you had a nice life, I really do. I think everyone who eats meat has a responsibility to really acknowledge the animal that they're consuming -- that this was once a living, breathing creature that could feel hot, cold, pain, fear...and contentment. And the more I am starting to enjoy food, thanks mostly to my foodie boyfriend, the most I realize one needs to be responsible in their buying practices of animal products. Do I break down and buy conventionally raised chicken or eggs here and there? Yes...and it makes me feel irresponsible. Do I know every time that I go out to eat that the meat was raised free range, hormone-free, etc. etc.? No, and that too gives me a twinge of guilt with every bite. I can thank my boyfriend for making me more food-conscious and therefore more animal-conscious. Although it gets expensive...
I guess I can really thank my boyfriend for giving me a solid appreciation of quality food and home cooking...even though I'm still not terribly motivated to do it. I have tried many new dishes in the 5 years we've been together, and I've experimented with cooking techniques I watched my mother do for years but never understood, and now I can safely say I am what I guess is an amateur foodie... Although I'm guilty of bringing home a can of Chef Boyardee and a 6 pack of beer one night after the grocery stores were closed and I had a rough, long day at work.
Still, when I think back on great meals I've had in my life, I remember bacon-wrapped venison (which I ate as a child in the back woods but never though of as high end cuisine), roasted quail, and foie gras... Or Brussels sprouts, morrel soup, and tuna liver with edible flowers... Mmm... And I appreciate more and more that animals had to perish to give me my meal, and that the chefs who prepare them take great care in translating this life cycle into something truly memorable.
So thank you, dear, for making me see food for what it is: plants and animals that grow, die, and are recreated into exotic forms with fancy names...But more importantly, that give me endless pleasure while eating, and will continue to do so as I remember and talk about them for years to come.
Where's Michael Pollan when I need him?
No comments:
Post a Comment