Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Monday, January 24, 2011
"Are your mom or dad home?"
First, this is the second time someone has come to my door, and asked for an adult. I'm wearing makeup, my hair is done, I'm dressed nicely. Do I need a sign that says, "I'm an adult! I own this house." Sir, we are definitely not getting off on the right foot here. I know I look young, but not that young. I guess he didn't notice my giant pregnant belly or wedding ring, I was hiding a little behind my glass door. But, having just recently turned 25 I thought that the days of being mistaken for a teenager were over. I mean really, I rarely even get carded anymore. Regardless, I responded kindly despite my annoyance,
"I'm the lady of the house, how may I help you?"
to which he replied "Do you cook?"
By now I had noticed the meat logo on his sweatshirt, I could not however see a vehicle or any kind of kind of notepad/clipboard for taking my order. I was taken a back by this door to door meat salesman, but my sister in law had a similar experience a week ago so I responded quickly in hopes he would leave.
"Yes, I cook, but I'm not interested in buying anything, have a nice day."
But before I could escape he started to tell me about the other job he had, something to do with checks. Not increasing my confidence in your shady door to door meat business, sir.
He then said, "Just tell me do you cook? I have some really great prices."
I was starting to get frustrated at this point.
"Yes, I'm a trained chef, but I am not interested in buying anything, have a nice day." I then closed the door. And watched as he started off to my neighbors. I think I may be adopting a new policy of if your shirt does not say ups then I'm not answering the door.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
While wyatt selected his juice I quickly darted off to one of my favorite sections the "fatty milk" section. I adore local fat filled milk! In fact I thought that I had out grown my childhood milk allergy until I discovered Shatto milk. I drank it everyday, ate it on everything. Unfortunately I had not out grown the allergy and so I have to limit my dairy, and fatty milk is a rare indulgence.
Next is the ice cream isle. The shelves are full of sorbets, gelatos, dairy free goodness, fat and dairy filled delights. All in perfect pint sized containers begging to be taken home. Unfortunately I settled for the dairy free, 150 cal. in the whole pint peanut butter and chocolate. I know sounds to good to be true, it is. The "ice cream" was a total fail! I am so sad what should taste like two of the greatest ingredients on the face of the earth taste like... cardboard.
You see there was a time when this would have been my favorite treat. A time when my goal as a chef was to make everything fat free and/or sugar free. I thought that food could be great without calories, completely guilt free. I was WRONG! I will never forget the day I got into a discussion with one of my instructors in college over splenda. I adored splenda! I put it on and in everything. And who needs butter and oil when you have applesauce? I was so naive. He explained to me that these substitutes are a far cry from true food. Sure they will fill you up, but what about the pleasure that real cream and butter bring? In honor of summer and delightful real food below is my blueberry ice cream and home made waffle cone recipes:
Blueberry Ice cream
Whole Milk 16 Fl. oz.
Heavy Cream (36 %) 16 Fl. oz.
Yolks 10 ea.
Sugar 5 oz.
Salt 1/8 tsp.
Vanilla bean 1/2 ea.
Lemon zest 1/4 tsp.
Blueberries 1 # 4 oz.
Sugar 6 oz.
Scrape out the vanilla bean half and mix in a sauce pan with the lemon zest and half the sugar. Followed by the milk and cream. Bring to a simmer until the sugar dissolves, stir often. Remove from the heat and cover with a piece of plastic wrap to create a vacuum. Allow to steep for 1/2 hr.
Meanwhile combine the blueberries and the sugar in a sauce pan and stir until the sugar dissolves and the juices are released. Puree and strain through a fine mesh strainer.
Whisk the remaining sugar, salt and yolks together. Slowly stir the milk mixture into the sugar and return to the heat. Cook stirring constantly over medium heat with a rubber spatula until the custard thickens enough to coat the spoon. Do not let it boil. Pour through the fine mesh strainer into your ice cream maker followed by the blueberry puree and freeze according to machines instructions. For an extra treat fold in a few fresh blueberries right at the end.
Mini Waffle Cone:
Yield: 15 small cones
I used a pizelle maker which can be found at most food specialty stores.
Eggs 2 ea.
Salt 1/4 tsp.
Sugar 2/3 c.
Vegetable 2 Tbs.
Cake flour (sifted) 1 c.
Vanilla 1 tsp.
Preheat the pizelle maker and make sure to spray it well between each use.
Mix the dry ingredients and add remaining ingredients. Mix until a smooth batter forms, add water if the batter is too thick. Follow the manufactures instructions for cooking the cone. Fold while it is still hot into a cone shape. Fill with ice cream and enjoy!
Friday, June 4, 2010
When I was in culinary school I had a friend who had a rather round belly and the two of us would laugh because he always ended up with frosting, flour, or whatever we were cooking that day smeared across his middle. I on the other hand have an unusually large chest for my otherwise almost boyish figure and found myself wearing remnants of what I had created across my chest. I have lost chef coats and some of my favorite tshirts to chocolate mousse and an assundry of other things I’ve decided to bake. You see I’m clumsy, I believe because I’m top heavy and just tend to run into things with the part of me that sticks out the farthest. Side note after a few too many cookies and croissants towards the end of my schooling I also ran into a whole row of chocolate cakes with my round behind. It was humiliating the school janitor had to find me a new chef coat and I had chocolate frosting on my caboose for the remainder of the day.
Although it’s 2010 and a woman has run for both president and vice president the culinary field is still dominated by men with one exception, pastry. This is a blog of my creations and adventures as I learn how to navigate the culinary world with cleavage. How I handled the men old enough to be my grandfather asking if they can lick the chocolate off my hand, or hearing my co workers talk about my body while I’m finishing up paper work in the office.. Being hit on by just about every guy (or girl) for that matter that comes into the back of the house. Fighting for the respect that any male chef is instantly awarded. This blog is for all of the female chef’s who have been called “baby,” “sweetie,” “sexy,” or “darling” by a delivery man right after you have stated your name and managerial title.