MANICHAEAN
06-29-2013, 07:37 PM
An Unconventional Affair
When I hear that someone is having an “affair,” I am always intrigued, both by the word itself and by its implications. On the one hand, the term has the appearances of being almost cold, businesslike and clinical. Yet beneath the encompassing political correctness of the word, there lie serpentine currents of deceit, and images of white hot passion in small provincial hotel boudoirs. Or is it all my imagination?
I’ve been having an affair lately with cooking, and although I’ve been careful in conducting it, perhaps it is my Irish Catholic upbringing that requires it no longer be hidden in the dark shadows of a burdening conscience, but brought forth into the light, to be assessed and penance given. It’s a food thing you know. I’ve not nurtured any carnal desires towards Delia Smith or Nigella Lawson; rather a fascination of late in the complexities, and the creativity of a new medium beyond writing, music and art.
I suppose, if truth be known, most of us have these deep desires, and not all require fish net stockings, feather dusters and being hand cuffed to the bed. Take Beef Wellington for example. You have to undress it mentally before you can even contemplate undertaking the dish. Off comes the outer garment of the puff pastry crust, followed by the exotic mushroom corset duxelles, unmentionables in the guise of foie gras, revealing at last the seared naked fillet of best Aberdeen beef.
This romantic foreplay is an essential part of the affair. “Cherche la femme,” get to understand her and what makes her tick. Then, a clandestine foray to buy the ingredients and back to the house where, behind lowered blinds and double locked doors, the dirty deed is done in a state of the art kitchen. Might I suggest that if you are of like mindedness with this particular dish, that you add a bit of ambience or spice to it with the seductive yet gratifying additions of; a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon, warm wilted winter greens and roasted fingerling potatoes with fresh herbs and garlic.
“Play it again Sam!”
When I hear that someone is having an “affair,” I am always intrigued, both by the word itself and by its implications. On the one hand, the term has the appearances of being almost cold, businesslike and clinical. Yet beneath the encompassing political correctness of the word, there lie serpentine currents of deceit, and images of white hot passion in small provincial hotel boudoirs. Or is it all my imagination?
I’ve been having an affair lately with cooking, and although I’ve been careful in conducting it, perhaps it is my Irish Catholic upbringing that requires it no longer be hidden in the dark shadows of a burdening conscience, but brought forth into the light, to be assessed and penance given. It’s a food thing you know. I’ve not nurtured any carnal desires towards Delia Smith or Nigella Lawson; rather a fascination of late in the complexities, and the creativity of a new medium beyond writing, music and art.
I suppose, if truth be known, most of us have these deep desires, and not all require fish net stockings, feather dusters and being hand cuffed to the bed. Take Beef Wellington for example. You have to undress it mentally before you can even contemplate undertaking the dish. Off comes the outer garment of the puff pastry crust, followed by the exotic mushroom corset duxelles, unmentionables in the guise of foie gras, revealing at last the seared naked fillet of best Aberdeen beef.
This romantic foreplay is an essential part of the affair. “Cherche la femme,” get to understand her and what makes her tick. Then, a clandestine foray to buy the ingredients and back to the house where, behind lowered blinds and double locked doors, the dirty deed is done in a state of the art kitchen. Might I suggest that if you are of like mindedness with this particular dish, that you add a bit of ambience or spice to it with the seductive yet gratifying additions of; a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon, warm wilted winter greens and roasted fingerling potatoes with fresh herbs and garlic.
“Play it again Sam!”