From Mister Chef To Master One

This is no flash in the frying pan, frenzy, here today gone tomale  kind of  TV entertainment I’m referring to.  This is a food revolution taking bacon to now pancetta, fried carrots and celery to now soffritto, and spices to now masala.  And it takes a master chef, male or female so long as a chef’s apron is sported, to put these foods together in a myriad of ways—one of them hopefully palatable and not just air-brushed shiny on your plate.

Astounding friends and family alike  if they can manage to sit still for a scheduled twenty minutes, wearing stern looks, hands clasped and judging your every move or kitchen faux pas.  Quail eggs aren’t the only thing scrambled in your kitchen, your nerves are as well, but not before they’re thoroughly shot first.

But really don’t beat or whisk yourself up about it, when was the last time you had nothing left in your fridge to cook but duck testicles and the next question is—why?  It used to be ducks were to look at and not stir-fry.

Cooking has reached new TV heights here, where pantries are the size of small grocery stores and there is no such thing as pots and pans build up due to magical elves doing the dishes between commercial breaks.

So home cooks take heart, remember we can’t all have our own frontier with a country kitchen large enough to cook food for twenty cowboys and cameramen– and good.  Plus, with great kitchens comes great, non-deflated soufflés each and every time—yikes! the pressure! Who needs it?

I prefer my meals  savory yet minus the knowledge that someone cooked it under duress with a pre-set time factor,coronary-inducing, do-or-die, master chef held for ransom attitude behind it.  Also, and this is big– minus their sweat — I always appreciate this not being used as a seasoning.


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