tisdag 27 mars 2012
torsdag 22 mars 2012
Keeping the textures
The home cook trying to emulate a succulent restaurant steak is often disappointed. It might look like the charred sirloin you had last Friday, but after the pan-handling it's all dry and stringy. Well, folks, I have the insider tip for you. It's called sous-vide, and is the fancy-pants French word for "under vacuum". It has nothing to do with beating sense into the strip with your electrolux, though. The Guardian has a fab slide show on how to master this technique at home. And all you need is a beer cooler! Can it get better than that?
lördag 3 mars 2012
"Two sommeliers walk into a bar..."
Have you heard one of those jokes that start off "Two sommeliers walk into a bar..."? As an improbable reflection of reality, they never end well. The last time a sommelier friend and I went out, we were offered cider instead of Champagne (all about the bubbles?) and recommended a dessert wine to accompany a fish course ("I'm no wine expert, but I know white wine goes with fish"). Then of course, there are the occasions were we simply don't agree, as on the subjects of screw-top corks, rosé, sulphites, and tasting notes. Two sommeliers arguing about bouquet after a few glasses of wine? Hilarious.
You've probably been wondering why the blog has suddenly been so silent. I've had a tough couple of months. Last year it was discovered during some routine tests that I have cancer. The specifics are pretty boring, so I'll just give you the short version of events, namely that operative treatment was not successful so now I'm on powerful medical treatment instead.
Apart from discovering a whole new depth to metaphysical questions, I've been made privy to the whole gamut of human behaviour in response to bad news. I find it very interesting how discovering the apparent mortality of someone other than yourself can make people so aware that life is finite. Mirror neurons? Anyway, so many of you have been amazing in lending hope and support, thank you. I have a good chance of a full recovery after this, and it means so much to know that you care.
One of the major side effects of the treatment I'm receiving is the loss of smell and taste. Not a brilliant idea for someone who works with her olfactory system as her main asset. Also, it's bloody depressing having the joy of food and drink taken away. However, I figured I'd use this as a golden opportunity to work on my sense of texture in food. As taste and smell are the primary focus when food goes in the mouth, texture is almost always an afterthought. Chances are, if you like the taste of something you'll like the texture. Here's a short list, in no particular order (so I've numbered it anyway), on foods which I normally love but which tasteless have a texture I can't stand:
1. Squid
2. Chocolate
3. Marmalade
4. Cheese (particularly blue/green mold)
5. Gravad lax
6. Avocado
7. Salami
8. Thick yoghurt
And here's a list of textures I do like, even in foods I'm not particularly fond of:
1. Cabbage (raw)
2. Apples
3. Wafers
4. Sourdough bread
5. Peas
6. Steak
7. Crab
8. Nuts
I can't remember the last time I ate any kind of cabbage, so once treatment is over I'll try to remember its redeeming qualities. But you'll notice that I can't stand anything sweet with a slimy texture. The sugar coats the mouth and tongue, which is exceptionally unpleasant if you can't taste anything. The worst is probably cheese. I tried Roquefort just to make sure I couldn't taste ANYTHING, which turned out to be a bit of a mistake because the texture is that of slime with bits of mold incorporated. Extremely unpleasant. I'll try to forget this when treatment is over, mostly because I adore the taste of a really ripe cheese.
Anyway. I'll be serving at afternoon tea for most of the forseeable future. Evening service simply gets too hectic for me to be able to cope, but I look forward to serving wine again. So, if Sunday tea sounds like a good thing: 040-79363 is the number, 12-16 are the hours. Give us a call.
You've probably been wondering why the blog has suddenly been so silent. I've had a tough couple of months. Last year it was discovered during some routine tests that I have cancer. The specifics are pretty boring, so I'll just give you the short version of events, namely that operative treatment was not successful so now I'm on powerful medical treatment instead.
Apart from discovering a whole new depth to metaphysical questions, I've been made privy to the whole gamut of human behaviour in response to bad news. I find it very interesting how discovering the apparent mortality of someone other than yourself can make people so aware that life is finite. Mirror neurons? Anyway, so many of you have been amazing in lending hope and support, thank you. I have a good chance of a full recovery after this, and it means so much to know that you care.
One of the major side effects of the treatment I'm receiving is the loss of smell and taste. Not a brilliant idea for someone who works with her olfactory system as her main asset. Also, it's bloody depressing having the joy of food and drink taken away. However, I figured I'd use this as a golden opportunity to work on my sense of texture in food. As taste and smell are the primary focus when food goes in the mouth, texture is almost always an afterthought. Chances are, if you like the taste of something you'll like the texture. Here's a short list, in no particular order (so I've numbered it anyway), on foods which I normally love but which tasteless have a texture I can't stand:
1. Squid
2. Chocolate
3. Marmalade
4. Cheese (particularly blue/green mold)
5. Gravad lax
6. Avocado
7. Salami
8. Thick yoghurt
And here's a list of textures I do like, even in foods I'm not particularly fond of:
1. Cabbage (raw)
2. Apples
3. Wafers
4. Sourdough bread
5. Peas
6. Steak
7. Crab
8. Nuts
I can't remember the last time I ate any kind of cabbage, so once treatment is over I'll try to remember its redeeming qualities. But you'll notice that I can't stand anything sweet with a slimy texture. The sugar coats the mouth and tongue, which is exceptionally unpleasant if you can't taste anything. The worst is probably cheese. I tried Roquefort just to make sure I couldn't taste ANYTHING, which turned out to be a bit of a mistake because the texture is that of slime with bits of mold incorporated. Extremely unpleasant. I'll try to forget this when treatment is over, mostly because I adore the taste of a really ripe cheese.
Anyway. I'll be serving at afternoon tea for most of the forseeable future. Evening service simply gets too hectic for me to be able to cope, but I look forward to serving wine again. So, if Sunday tea sounds like a good thing: 040-79363 is the number, 12-16 are the hours. Give us a call.
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