Razor Sharp Precision

Following my last post a friend joked with me about the status that people sometimes place on their foodie tools, specifically, kitchen knives. You know what I mean. I'm talking about the obsessive foodie way that items are described with a loving specification and attention to brand and price that you realize that what they really want people to know that they just want you to know that their stuff is probably better than your second-rate el cheapo tool. That's right, nothing short of the finest will do for these folks, and oh, did they mention that money is no object, as long as they can pay enough to let people know that oh dear, this fine tool cost much more than that.

Yeah. You know what I mean and I'm sure we all do it now and then. But some people really get their thrills discussing their excellent taste. So it was two weeks back when I went to dinner with a friend of mine at her friends' house. The hosts are nice people, they are generous with their food and better, yet, their liquor. But also in attendance was one of the host's oldest friends, who, along with host #1 fancies himself quite a bon vivant. This man, who I'll call Frick, suddenly began talking to the host, Frack, about his need for a new fillet knife. Thus began their talk about how German knives are certainly the best. Wusthof? Oh no, I prefer Henkel. Oh, yes, Henkel makes a fine product too. Oh, I might buy one here. Yes? I'd also recommend looking there.

Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.

Keep in mind that this discussion was for a knife used to slice fish apart, something that most folks don't need to do with great regularity if they don't process salmon for a living. I wanted to suggest that purchasing a decent boning knife for about $20 the fellow would have a tool that could fillet fish as well as do a fine job with roasts, ribs, legs of lamb or pork and other butchering tasks. Oh well. Where's the status in that?

By the way, this conversation took place over dinner, as I mentioned earlier. The meal was jambalaya. Frack had made his first ever batch. It was indeed tasty, but Frack was not about to let us eat without explaining how he'd compared many recipes before settling on what he considered a fine and authentic version of that cajun classic. I had to roll my eyes on two points: First, for a recipe with shrimp, chicken and sausage, he used sweet and hot Italian sausage rather than andouille sausage, which seems a heck of a lot more "authentic" than the much milder Italian sausage. But, there are myriad jambalaya recipes and all sorts of meats can be used. Same with spices. Which brings me to the other point: While explaining his recipe vetting Frack several times explained that he rejected immediately a recipe that called for "cajun spices". That sounded too pedestrian. His solution was a hodgepodge of spices including paprika, thyme, and some cayanne pepper. Interesting mix, but I couldn't help but recall what a Luisianian friend of mine always mentions as one of the standard ingredients used by her 100% cajun mother: Tony Chachere's Creole Seasoning, available in stores everywhere.

Hungry For More

I enjoy cooking. I don'tknow when I discovered that cooking could be more of a hobby than just a means of preparing fuel to be shoveled into my mouth to

be burned up in my stomach and turned into energy. But somewhere along the way I realized that taking the time to make something tasty to eat offers the opportunity to be creative, a certain amount of discipline and yet frequent chances to bend the rules to meet my wishes. Cooking gives me something to look forward to at the end of a busy day or on a relaxing Saturday evening or Sunday afternoon. It is a possibility to challenge myself to think how I might recreate something that I once ate at a restaurant or in my childhood or how to improvise something that I suddenly crave. And there are fun things to do like cutting up meat, chopping things, and playing with fire. And lest I forget, turning on the radio in the kitchen or on the back deck while making something to eat provides great relaxation and relief of stress. This is added by the fact that cooking any meal is made infinitely better with a glass of wine or bottle of beer on hand. In short, cooking has developed from a means of supplying my body with food to a full fledged hobby.

Like any hobby, cooking, for me has a variety of likes and dislikes. Here are some of them:

Knife work. For whatever reason the precision of chopping an onion, dicing vegetables, or most fun of all, cutting meat whether it be a chicken, rabbit, fish, or some other bit of critter is extremely satisfying. Perhaps it is the enjoyment that comes of seeing things prepped and ready for the upcoming stages of the recipe. Perhaps it is the sound of the knife clacking on the cutting board. Maybe it is the proud feeling of dominating the ingredients by turning them into what I want them to be. At any rate, cutting is fun.

Grilling. Ask any man who likes grilling why he likes it and what will they say? Probably any of the following: Food tastes good grilled. Fire is warm and heat is nice. Mankind's control of fire signifies our rise from knuckle dragging primates to the intelligent beings who created companies like Weber and Kingsford. Besides fire, grilling requires tools like spatulas, tongs, big long forks and knives. Grilling often involves meat, and grilled meat also signifies mankind's rise from knuckle dragging primates to the geniuses who could breed cows to create certified black Angus steak. Grilling and beer go hand in hand.

Improvising. How many times have you been preparing a certain recipe only to discover that you lack several ingredients as seen on the list? Happens to me all the time. I honestly enjoy realizing that and then rummaging through the pantry to see what I have that will best approximate the missing ingredients. Similarly, I enjoy coming home and seeing what I can whip up with whatever items I have on hand. Not only does it save a trip to the grocery store, but it often results in some pleasing-and sometimes spectacular- meals!

Sharing food with friends. As many have said in many other places, eating is a great social activity. Cooking with a significant other or friend is fun. Better yet is sitting down to eat with that person after putting together a nice meal. Same goes for a group of good friends and spending the meal chatting and savoring each bite of the meal as well as the time together.

I said I disliked some things about cooking. Here they are:

Ingredient snobbery.

So you get your stuff all verifiably locally grown from a farmer's market. And oh yes, that broccoli cost you $9.99 a pound. I don't care. Really, I don't. Everybody want's to eat tasty and secondly everybody wants to eat well. Where and how we get things are important but what nobody needs is somebody else telling them about wonderful locally grown hubbard squash and free range hormone & cruelty free pork chops. Great. Super. I'll be impressed when I have the time. Also, too many of these people tend to blanche when I tell them where I got or even what I regularly do to get hormone free, free range meat. Just eat your good food. Don't hold it over people's heads.

Sliders.

Sandwiches are great. Multiple tiny versions of a sandwich are pointless. White Castle had a good thing going for itself when it decided to make tiny hamburgers. The public, forgive the pun, ate it up. However, our postironic age of the 2000's decided that if it could be a sandwich it definitely should be available for the same price as four tiny versions of the whole thing. Besides being more work for the kitchen and no increase in taste for the customer, this is a ridiculous trend. It's the stupid version of the typically American desire to add quality by multiplication: A pulled pork sandwich? It might be even better if we made an equivalent four tiny pulled pork sandwiches! I'll give you four tiny "no's" that equal one huge one.

Kitchen speak as mainstream talk

I don't think this happens a lot but I do want to mention it. I know that executive chefs are part businessman. The work they do involves lots of ordering, counting, measuring, and further dealing with numbers. But I don't like when businesspeak extends to the food, especially meat. Please do not call meats or fish "proteins" or "product". To me, this is the same as a person saying that a man who died in a fiery car crash "passed away". Food is food, and some of it comes from living things. Those animals that became food died. (I won't even get into plants!)

The animals died. They became meat. This includes fish, deer, cows, pigs and lots of other things. Proteins are an infintesimmally small part of what creates these creatures. They are not products nor are they proteins. They are meats. For eating. Give them the respect that they deserve since they came from living things and don't just describe them as building block of matter.

Clean up.

You didn't think I'd talk about cooking and not mention the part that so few people like? I like doing lots of things in the kitchen. I dislike cleaning up my own messes. The odd part of it all? I like the orderliness of kitchens and that they can be arranged with military-like precision. I like how things have their places and you can get them to deal with a specific task. But after they have all been used... well, cleaning them just sucks.

Equipment snobs.

See "Ingredient snobs". People, you can find it written in many places: cooking requires a pot or two, a frying pan or two, and some knives. I like gadgets and I like having a kitchen full of stuff that I can use, but please don't mention the things you have just because you have them. Remember, before you had the machine you had that helped you make the dish you're bragging about, NOBODY had that machine. Your feat can be done without that expensive gizmo. Cooking is about making sure that the starting ingredients wind up with a certain taste.

Like any good trip, the story at the end is probably more important than the journey.

Old Times, New People, and the Same Things...a fond reunion

Friday August 13, 2010. The date was anything but unlucky for me. I was in Washington, D.C. for a work-related trip but that day's schedule afforded some personal time in the afternoon. I met up for lunch with one of my best friends from college. I was worried.

Why? You are thinking, "You were great friends, what could be wrong?"

Me, I'm thinking. "What do I remember since we last met?" (BTW, the last time was my visit to D.C. in 2007 or 2008. And we had a really good time in our short amount of time together.)

I needn't have worried. For one thing, my friend and I still look enough like each other that we recognized the other as soon as we were face to face.

For another thing, I approached my buddy from behind and announced my presence by uttering a classic Humphrey Bogart line in a terrible Bogart accent. He turned around out of curiosity and also the mindset of, "Only an idiot who knew that I knew this reference would say this while standing behind me would say this."

He was right. I was and still am that idiot. I have no regrets. We had a great time

For the first thing, we are both burgouning "foodies" and were meeting to check out one of the newest ventures of a former "Top Chef" contestant. (By the way, We the Pizza serves up some seriously good pie, especially if you like flavorful toppings, a crisp crust, and still further demand a pliable and chewy dough. Thin crust or deep dish, I was reminded of Mom's toppings and Dad's crust and in my family, those combinations always equaled tasty pizza. Those of you who feel that pizza isn't right unless it is a droopy piece of breading that disappears under the weight of an ultra-sweet tomato sauce or a gallon of greasy cheese please don't go here!)

But back to our reunion: It was great. Time had passed, we were older, pretended to be wiser, and we were just as good friends as we ever were. I was literally speechless with joy as I walked up on my friend. I wanted to know everything he and his family were up to. You know why? Because I cared. Because I knew that he had done lots in the time since we'd last talked and I knew I needed to know.

Sometimes I wonder what makes a friend a friend. Being there for each other at all time, through thick and thin is one. But I think we always overlook a second part of this- distance and time separate friends, but when we can reconnect in person and gloss over stuff and suddenly find ourselves ravenously catching up with each other, I think you have a good friend.

And by this I mean that each of you answers a question about yourself and then immediately asks the other person about their life. Or you may even ignore questions to find out what our old friend is up to. I put it like this: I am a selfish person. I don't like admitting it but I am. People often like themselves and often we like ourselves too much. But when meeting the best of our old friends we somehow manage to balance our enjoyment of talking about ourselves with wanting to know about their lives. This may sound a bit over dramatic but I don't think it is untrue.

At any rate, I ate some fantastic pizza with a great old friend. During the course of our meal we happily discovered that we are still close friends despite the distance of our lives. We used to talk about movies all the time. This time, we talked about how neither of us goes to movies as much as we once did, and also about how neither of us wants to go to most of the movies we see advertised. Age and taste play a large part in this but we share this. We realize that we've both come from the same place with regards of appreciating cinema (even if we didn't always champion the same movies). I remain in awe of my pal's family and ability to work toward his goals. I have no doubt that he'll be successful. I have no doubt that his wife is successful in her current endeavor. I have no doubt that their child is one helluva tyke and I really want to meet the kid.

What worries me is that I offered much less to him. We did some movie talk and we had a great time with it (for a truly great discussion about "Inception" check out Jim Emerson at http://blogs.suntimes.com/scanners/ )

But besides movie talk, my offerings were slim. I hope that I'll someday have a much more varied life that that which I see in the movies.

The Wonders of Rain

This afternoon I've been killing time at home before I get cleaned up to meet a friend for dinner and then head to a birthday party. I watched a silly but forgettable movie- "Paul Blart: Mall Cop", folded some laundry, and am now watching a baseball game. This Saturday started off just like the rest of the week- extremely humid and darned hot. But the weather forecast said a storm system was heading this way and predicted rain storms in the afternoon. The forecast proved correct with a vengeance!

Around 1 pm the sky began getting cloudy. Half an hour later it was getting positively dark. Suddenly I heard the sound of rain and looked out the window to see a steady shower. Instantly the air turned cooler and the feeling was absolutely refreshing. The yard was eagerly drinking up the water and a wonderful breeze was blowing. I felt instantly happier as the humidity was knocked out by the rain. But the rain wasn't even nearly done. After a few minutes the rain increased and before long it was coming down with such force that the drumming of the water blocked out every other noise in the house. I looked out the window and saw sheets of water and a stream flowing out of the driveway and into the river running down the street. Besides cooling the air at least ten degrees the storm was fantastic to watch. Summer thunderstorms are one of my favorite things to view.

The next hour was lovely as I settled down next to the window and watched the rain smash down on the street and roll off the eves of my house. The air smelled like ozone and water. It was lovely. There was only one thing missing. I needed a nice beverage to go with this fine storm. Since I wanted something simple and calming I ambled down to the pantry and poured some Small Batch Four Roses bourbon over some ice and then returned to my window seat. The cold, sweet smokiness of bourbon mingled with the water from the melting ice cubes went down smooth. I sat back and watched water cascade down onto the neighborhood. It was a great show and a reminder that some of the best entertainments cost nothing at all and only require us to take the time to enjoy them.

I just spent a brief time away from the city. I cannot explain how good it felt to leave behind the urban noise, crowds, traffic and pace of life for the open spaces and different paces of the country. And I was way, way out in the country. I was in northeastern Montana. Now, considering that I grew up in a rural area, it is with great emphasis that I say that the area I visited was very rural.

I loved it.

There is nothing more liberating than space. Plenty of room to make noise, be crazy, get wild and cut loose. But being out in the country surrounded by the perfect system of nature is liberating. The air is clear and the land is open. And yet with the freedom of the land I realize that there is also an element of danger, because the land thrives and survives when it is fed by those who live in it. We can start compost heaps and give back to the land or we can become the compost which feeds the land and the animals that share it with us. Perhaps this sounds a bit morbid but to me it is also an exciting thought. It helps me remember that we need to make the most of our time on earth because sooner or later we will become part of it once again.

On my brief getaway I saw mountains, river bottoms, prairie, canyons created by wind and water, a giant manmade dam and the lake it created, and so much more. The night I saw the stars they dazzled me with blinking intensity; the morning sun was intense and orange when it rose over the horizon. Several mornings snow was blowing and collecting on the ground in a reminder that the western spring comes both later and with even more unpredictable power than it does on the coast. I reveled in being able to turn around 360 degrees and see only one building- at least 30 miles in the distance. I worried that if something happened to me out in such as vast landscape nobody might notice or find me before it was too late. But when surrounded by so much beauty, the danger seems as irrelevant as it is palpable.

One day, while taking a tour of a cattle ranch I saw several horses chasing a coyote off of their territory. It was exciting to see. One sometimes thinks of horses as defenseless animals an there, in front of me, were three horses running after the lone coyote in order to defend their territory. The next evening I went to bed to the sound of several coyotes howling nearby as the ranch's border collies barked and yowled and kept the predators at bay. I loved the sounds and fell asleep wonderfully tired and eager for the next day.

It is great to go somewhere and see all sorts of wild animals, and I saw antelope, coyotes, mule deer, elk, whitetail deer, jackrabbits, gophers, grouse, pheasants and hawks. I also loved knowing that those animals were all struggling for their place in the land and that I was as well. One great thing about leaving the city is that the idea of life and death becomes , closer, clearer, more eminent; Country people are more open about the reality that beings live and die. I don't mean that they are wiser or smarter or better, but there always seems to me a greater acceptance of the transience of life in the country than in the city. In cities the concrete walls and paved streets obscure the softness of the ground and the motion of the sky. Trees are corralled and grass is limited. And people treat pets like family members and expect family members to live forever. I dislike the dishonesty and the focus on preciousness.

What is precious is being here, alive, and being able to take part in this great continuing cycle. What is silly is thinking that a person is better off treating their pet like a family member or every sunrise like a miracle or their reaching old age as a right. We should remember that our pets, like us, are animals and like living and would possibly eat us if it meant that they would live. We should remember that the sun will rise tomorrow regardless of what we do (sorry, Aztecs) but that is no reason no to appreciate it. Enjoy those sunrises! We should remember that we all age but not equally and not all to the same end point. Sure, trying to make our lives go on as far as possible is a noble idea but we need to remember that life is filled with dangers, accidents, inequalities and leaves us the freedom to make satisfying if poor choices- yes, fry that and add butter to the baked potato- but we'd be worse off if we couldn't make those choices.

What does all this have to do with my trip? I'm not actually sure. I believe that I've rambled a bit but I know that the next time I hear another commercial harping about antioxidents or see a person carrying a tiny dog wearing a sweater I'll chuckle a bit more than usual.

Things I love

Random musings about things that I greatly enjoy.

Movies. Especially seeing movies in the theater.

Talking about movies, great, terrible or just fun and interesting with friends.

Reading.

Exploring.

Hunting and sometimes fishing.

Irony.

Photography.

Making fun of my own mistakes.

Wearing comfortable jeans and brand new socks.

Milkshakes.

Dogs and cats.

Mowing lawns and the smell of the freshly cut grass.

Cooking including making bread and cutting meat. And grilling.

Early mornings, when I can wake up, that are sunny and cool.

Getting jobs done.

Finding things I'd forgotten I'd lost.

Baseball. Especially the New York Yankees. And competitions. And winning, or watching somebody enjoy winning.

Skiing.

Good bourbon, single malt scotch, draft beer.

Anitheroes.

Classic rock, hard rock, and metal. And Buddy Holly, Chuck Berry, The Rolling Stones, The Who, AC/DC, Metallica and Guns n' Roses.

Waylong Jennings, Kris Kristofferson, Johnny Cash and Willy Nelson. or songs that they could have sung.

Comfortably dingy bars and fancy restaurants.

Indiana Jones, Han Solo, Robert Mitchum, W.C. Fields, all the Marx Brothers (and Zeppo too), Abbot and Costello, King Kong, Henry Fonda, Abraham Lincoln, George Washington, Leslie Fiedler, Roger Ebert, Sam Peckinpah, Jim Henson, John Milius, Walter, Hill, John Ford, John Carpenter, Kurt Russell and Goldie Hawn, Willem Dafoe, Paul Newman, Herman Melville, James Ellroy, Ernest Hemingway, Ty Cobb, Joe DiMaggio, Ted Williams, Derek Jeter, Ted Kennedy, Roger Corman, Joe Dante, Warren Oates, Ben Johnson, Slim Pickins, Clint Eastwood, Don Siegel, Bruce Campbell, Kate Winslett, Bette Davis, Cary Grant, The Simpsons, Lost, Norm MacDonald, Paul Verhoeven, Vincent Price, James Coburn and Charles Bronson, James Cagney, Jack Nicholson, Harry Dean Stanton, Bill Murray, Sigourney Weaver, Rembrandt, Van Gogh, Michaelangelo, Toshiro Mifune, Akira Kurasawa, Kurtwood Smith, Claude Rains, Lauren Bacall, Franklin D. Roosevelt, Theodore Roosevelt, Susan Sarandon, Slash, Pete Townsend, Etta James, Patsy Cline, Johnny Carson, Conan O'Brian, and antiques.

Something for Ted Murphy

Tonight's post is brief. Today, my co-workers and I learned that one of our colleagues died. This was unexpected and obviously, the news brought a mixture of shock, disbelief, sadness, loss and grief.

Ted Murphy was a man that I didn't know well but one that I respected and enjoyed working with during the few years that we shared a roof- and a boss. Prior to and during his last assignment at my place of work, Ted had the opportunity to channel his deep love of cinema into the role of reviewer. Ted was a man of great and strong opinions. Those opinions, like all good ones, were a mixture of thought, knowledge, and gut reaction. He was never shy to share his. His opinions, like many good ones, were often correct.

When we had the opportunity to talk together about movies, acting, performers or many other things I enjoyed listening to Ted because he always had much to say on a subject and was always well prepared to back his argument. Ted often lead me to either rethink my original stance on a topic or to agree with him while still finding great wonder in the different ways in which we reached a shared opinion. He was well versed in cinema, theatre and life. Ted was uncompromising, attentive to details and always passionate about his likes and dislikes. All of these were boons to his work at our office and to his work as a reviewer.

I'd like to direct anyone interested to a link to his reviews posted at rottentomatoes.com as well as his website, Murphy's Movie Reviews. As with true review of a work of art, agreeing or disagreeing is worth less than reading and coming away with more information and thoughts than you had before seeing a review, especially if you have seen the work being reviewed. This is true with movies, theatre, television and even with a baseball umpire's strike zone. I hope that you will take a moment to avail yourselves to some of Ted's reviews.

Thanks.

http://www.murphysmoviereviews.net/
http://www.rottentomatoes.com/author/author-3521/