The camera led me to sit down and begin writing a blog.
These two creative outlets, disciplines, whathaveyou, further lead me to begin writing screenplays.
Nearly two years ago, someone bought us a gift certificate for Blue Apron. This reignited my passion for cooking. Today, for the most part, we use Plated but still incorporate Blue Apron from time to time. Beyond that, I've even started making my own dishes. A couple weeks ago I made my first batch of homemade potato gnocchi--it was dynamite; Gnocchi Pomodoro.
It's all connected: CREATIVITY
Or better, STORYTELLING BY ANY MEANS AVAILABLE.
Or still better, Frank Costello, played by Jack Nicholson in The Departed, quoted John Lennon saying, "Lennon said, "I'm an artist, give me a fucking tuba, I'll get you something out of it.""
The more I express myself as an artist, the more that quote hits home. It feels good.
Today isn't a light-a-fire-under-your-ass type of post. Nah. Not today. Let's pivot, sorta.
We will bring it back to the culinary side of things. It will be a stretch but I'll drop a pointer some way or another.
Or not. Let's see.
Besides my Yoshihiro Mizu Yaki blue high carbon steel Damascus Kiritsuke and Nakiri (Japanese steel), I'd have to say that the old set of well seasoned, well maintained cast iron skillets are my best tools in the kitchen.
I use the cast iron for EVERYTHING, even eggs. And let me iterate, as long as a cast-iron skillet, no matter how old, is well seasoned and well maintained, it will outperform any Teflon pan any day of the week. Well, not any day, because that Teflon will be awesome for a while but it will certainly wear off over time. Cast iron is what it is; cast iron. Copper will be next in my arsenal but for the time being, love the old iron.
As for Japanese steel? Better than I could've ever imagined. Now, even more than the cast-iron, the high carbon steel needs even more TLC but you get used to that over time.
Speaking of eggs.
As long as I could remember, I've been a fan of a perfectly cooked Sunny Side Up egg. Maybe it's because I remember my grandfather eating them so frequently before he went to work in the mornings that I would spend the night my grandparents' home.
Shit. Probably the mid-1980s that I'm reflecting upon.
They had a small rowhome at which time I thought was as big as any home I'd ever been in. Maybe the ceiling to floor mirrored wall behind the plastic-covered couch really made the space feel gigantic. Or maybe it was because I was so young and small.
Their linoleum kitchen table jutted out from the wall, separating the kitchen from the dining room. Think a linoleum counter but at low table height.
My grandfather used to sit at the end of that table. He would sit as he'd prep is area; carefully straightening his silverware and setting up his day's medications by a glass of tomato juice.
Once his wife, my grandmother, would serve up his eggs, he would then douse them with salt and so much black pepper that you have a hard time identifying the dish. The tomato juice would get the same treatment.
Come to think of it, maybe that's why I dig peppers so much too. Especially black pepper.
Even better than a couple of Sunny Side Up Eggs is a pair of greasy spoon Sunny Side Up Eggs with a side of Scrapple and Hash Browns. I know. Zero need for any of that capitalization but I did it anyway.
However, therein lies a problem.
I'm not homophobic, androcentric, egotistic or, wait, maybe that last one but otherwise, I'm as free-spirited and as liberal as one can be.
Sidebar:: My wife and I were at a party, at our friends' mansion. Yep. It was a mansion. Old. In Gladwyne. Main Line. More dough than Beverly Hills. I shit you not. After we were given a tour of the grounds my buddy told us that that particular party gets pretty crazy and that most, if not all guests end up naked in the pool, hot tub, and everywhere for that matter. I couldn't believe it until I myself was one of those naked people. Granted, a lot of Anejo tequila helped coax the clothing from my body but nevertheless, I was pretty goddamn free-spirited that day.
Having said that, for some fucked up reason, I cannot bring myself to order Sunny Side Up Eggs because it sounds a little too, eh, I don't know, you know what I mean?
Fucked up, right?
So while cooking Sunny Side Up at home, at any diner I evolved to request Over Easy.
Speaking of Diners.
I got a little long-winded here today and wanted to tie in another part to this story but I'll save it for a part two.
The photo herein. Have you noticed I like to use fancy words? Today's photo was straight outta iPhone. Well. Not straight.
I used the iPhone XS Max and a lot of filter through The Gram before posting it back in here. In hindsight, way too much Clarity. Maybe it looks ok on mobile devices but on this MBP it's a bit harsh on the eyes. My sensitive eyes anyway.
Shit. didn't even realize that in just a few days this blog will be 9 years old!!! Fuck a duck. I guess part two of this miniseries will be sooner than later. Unless I hold it off to do an anniversary post. Ah. That blows. I'll blend it somehow without being too sappy.
Until next time...