This is my first post to this blog that Jill so kindly set up for us. For Valentine's Day, we decided to avoid the crowds, and cook at home. So - sirloin steak over fresh arugula in a mushroom, shallot & red wine reduction (with a not-inconsiderable amount of butter and pan drippings to finish), crab cake, steamed asparagus. We drank our standard, $9 bottle of Malbec with this. I think it turned out pretty well.
I'm not clever enough to have come up with the observation that cooking is at times like eating - I probably read it in either MFK Fisher or Anthony Bourdain (an odd pair, but the only two food writers I've read in any depth) - but its true. This truth increases exponentially relative to the richness of the meal. I cooked this, plated it, sat down, and just kind of looked at it sideways. It was good, it was what I wanted for dinner, but cooking it somehow satisfied most of my sensory desires re: that particular plate of food, or combination of ingredients. This was fine. We sat at the table with flowers, drank our wine, ate our meal, and I'm sure we both felt quite happy with the moment.
Tonight - Friday - we are dining out at Lambert's. I'll post a quick review later this evening.
I'm not clever enough to have come up with the observation that cooking is at times like eating - I probably read it in either MFK Fisher or Anthony Bourdain (an odd pair, but the only two food writers I've read in any depth) - but its true. This truth increases exponentially relative to the richness of the meal. I cooked this, plated it, sat down, and just kind of looked at it sideways. It was good, it was what I wanted for dinner, but cooking it somehow satisfied most of my sensory desires re: that particular plate of food, or combination of ingredients. This was fine. We sat at the table with flowers, drank our wine, ate our meal, and I'm sure we both felt quite happy with the moment.
Tonight - Friday - we are dining out at Lambert's. I'll post a quick review later this evening.
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