How to go out to eat

So, we went to DC and went out for dinner. A serious, big, splurgy, my sister's 30th birthday dinner where we made up for belatedness with an extra shot of awesome. We did the tasting menu, wine pairings, and had a great time. Of the four of us, one was new to the whole idea of dining at that level so we tried to give him an idea of what to expect. No big rules and regulations, just suggestions on how to get the most out of things. I'm pretty sure it worked, he had a great time (as we all did) and I think the chef only spotted him licking his plate once or twice.

It occured to me as we were throwing a few simple ideas his way that people don't think about going out to eat as an event anymore. Maybe it went the way of men wearing hats all the time and ladies' gloves. That's a shame, too, because the way to get the most out of a meal that someone else is cooking is to look at it for the splurge it is... not just something from the drive through. And when one is trying to economize, if you can make even the smallest indulgence feel more decadent, it will satiate you longer. So these are a few of the things we covered at dinner on how to really go out to eat:

1. Choose the dinner companions that are best for the situation. Seriously, a tasting menu with a bad companion is an exercise in contemplating infinity. Someone with serious germphobia might ruin your fun tracking down a local taco truck. A good hint, enthusiasm for the idea. Don't forget to be a good dining buddy yourself. If you have to, work out piddly details like who will cover what part of the check beforehand so you can just relax and enjoy your occasion.

2. Have a plan. This actually came up after our fancy dinner. My sweetheart suggested that having a budget in mind and that sort of thinking was too much work for a simple meal. I countered that if you have something in mind, you are more likely to find the best possible options. It is not a bad thing to say in advance, "We can spend 30 dollars tonight, and I'm just not feeling Chinese food but I would kill for nacho tots." It will help control the "I don't know, what do you want to do?" endless loop of bad feelings.

3. Go to the best place possible in your budget. This should be a given, but if chili's hasn't gone completely bankrupt by now, then it needs to be restated. Hell, if you only have $20 that will get you good pho for two in most cities. Live in the middle of nowhere? Maybe you've got some guy in the next town that makes killer catfish or a great burger. Explore your options, and if that doesn't work, stay home and save the money. There are worse things than not going out to eat.

4. Trust in the person cooking. If you followed suggestion #2, this will be much more rewarding. Not every dish needs to be fussed with before eating and sometimes you may enjoy something you would not normally like. Those moments are worth more than the monotony of every good hot dog you've ever had. I had a very wonderful, memorable meal in which the chef hit every single ick nerve of everyone at the table, but we tried everything anyway and loved it.

5. Attitude is everything. The internet is filled with people who take going out to eat too damn seriously. If you go into each meal with a mind ready only to critique, not to enjoy, then I don't want to eat with you. Remember, the dish that saved Anton Ego was a variation on a peasant dish, one that he sneered at for its baseness when it was presented to him. Be willing to be surprised by the simple things. I'm not saying don't pay attention to what you're eating, I'm saying don't clinically dissect every second of it.

6. Savor it. Relax a little. Laugh. Look around. Talk. Ignore your cell phone. Ask your server how she is doing tonight. Don't sweat the money you're spending because that is a decision you already made. Yes, this all goes back to #5 but it bears repeating.

We won't be going out to eat for a while, and I know that will have been our big meal for the year (although there's another 30th birthday next year, so who knows what that will bring). But I have lots of snapshots in my head. I have flavors and smells and can revisit that amazing scallop or the goat or that rhubarb sorbet and the occasion was special. That is why we spend the money, take the time, make the effort, why we go out to eat in the first place. I may be crazy for having put as much as I did into one meal, but bottom line?

Totally worth it.

Holiday Spirits for Bakers

No, no, I'm not talking about alcohol, although I do have an idea for a Christmas punch recipe that would kick. In every job, there is that same meeting every year. "This is it don't screw it up we make all our money now and you like getting a paycheck, right?"

Something to that effect.

It's the most wonderful time of the year; where clients get even more crazy and the work gets even more hectic. Suddenly you look up and see you have stood on your feet for something like 13 hours and didn't even notice even though you have been checking timers in twenty minute intervals at least forty times. Online shopping is the only thing that is saving you from disinheritance if you remember to shop at all. Your house appears to be festively decorated with fake snow, but you know that's just flour you've brought home with you.

Embrace the spirit.

I look at it this way; eventually, the endorphins will save me. I can dread it, prepare for a month of misery and exhaustion, or I can make chemistry work for me. I will come home and bake cookies after spending all day baking cookies. I will fill the house with the scents of the season - citrus, cinnamon, clove. I will think of new ideas for festiving up our regular products while churning out what I need to. I will NOT sing carols to my coworkers every day because they have limits, and I don't know who owns a gun. I will, however, try and remember pleases and thank yous because after 15 hours that can go a long way.

I will probably crochet up a few festive hats. sorry.

And then, when all is said and done, I'll rest, and let my brain do it's thing, flooding me with chemicals that will make me say, "Hey, that wasn't so bad. It was actually kind of fun. How long until next holiday season?"

And then I will duck so nothing that got thrown at me will hit me in the face.

Now with Video!

So each year, one of my favorite newer thanksgiving traditions involves my friend Samantha and panicked phone calls. It started a few years back when she asked me for a from scratch recipe to make for her family. There was a voicemail I saved for years desperately asking about the difference between corn bread and corn muffins and that was all it took. We were both hooked. Eventually, I'll get her up to cooking the bird, but for this year, it is, by her request, gougeres.

And, since I have my shiny new camera, rather than just fabulous still pictures, I figured I'd help her out with a video demo, too.



The recipe is adapted from the French Laundry Cookbook, because that is what I served her when she had them, but you know, I think I still prefer a combination of milk and water rather than simply water. So my version would be like this:

.5 cup water
.5 cup milk
7 tablespoons (3½ ounces) unsalted butter
1 tablespoon kosher salt, or more to taste
Pinch of sugar
1¼ cups (5 ounces) all-purpose flour
4 to 5 large eggs
1¼ cups grated Gruyère (5 ounces) or cheddar, or cheddar and parmesan, or you know, cheese.

You'll have to find your own distractions while you wait for 10 minutes.

It's the most wonderful time of the year...

You have no idea how happy this makes me. Even if it is less than three months until Christmas.

How to make hot chocolate

Go downstairs to the kitchen. Watch the cats laugh at you when you step on the cold linoleum floor. They, being smarter than you, are sitting on the edge of the carpet, which they will not leave until you open the cat food, and then will return to the carpet as quickly as possible. The food will keep. You consider once again that the kitchen would not be so cold if you didn't leave the window open at night, but realize that you like it, because it reminds you of cooperstown and gives you more of a reason to have hot chocolate. You'll start closing the window soon. Maybe October.

Throw some vegetarian specialty kinda poptarts in the toaster oven because you find them strangelly compelling. Look at the box for the first time and snicker at these "healthy" roof tiles being 420 calories for two. It being a special occasion, you throw the box away, never to contemplate such numbers again.

Grab the New Favorite Pot, a large chunk of dark Callebaut (because you are the sort to have this lying around) and some water. Slosh water into the pot and turn on the stove. Chop a larger quantity of chocolate than you think necessary, and throw it in the pot. Add some sugar, vanilla paste and salt, because you have learned only as an adult that salt is good. Scoff at the milk. The milk is for pussies. You are having Hot Chocolate. You are not having a latte. You are not having anything Au Lait.

The not pop tarts are starting to smell good.

Deem it Time to Begin Whisking. Contemplate Brillat-Savarin and MFK Fisher and their great Hot Chocolate Wisdom. Whisk madly, stop, and taste. Be surprised that the flavors are right on the first try, because you always are. Become deeply critical, adjust flavor accordingly. Consider the Chinese 5 spice powder, restrain. It would not harmonize with the not pop tarts. Turn off the heat as the mixture begins to boil.

Grab a ladle and pour ladlesful of the hot chocolate back into the pot from high above, not to aerate, but to make yourself feel like willy wonka. Such is goodness. Pour some Hot Chocolate into the cup.

The toaster oven dings.

Wrap a hand around the warming mug and begin nibbling off the dry flavorless parts of the not pop tart. Quickly follow with a sustaining flavorful sip of the hot chocolate to rehydrate your tongue. Retreat to upstairs where the floor is carpeted to savor beverage and open birthday cards.

Good morning.

Territorial marking among guest chefs.

Here's a thing I wasn't aware of until I became industry entrenched - there's a status thing among chefs. Not within an individual workplace, that is a hierarchy of which I was aware. I mean between the kind of work you do: caterers vs. hotel vs restaurant and that kind of nonsense. Each can have its own kind of disdain for the other among a certain caliber of chef. For some, your numbers mean everything - if you can't do a party for 1000 in one night without breaking a sweat, what good are you? Others will scoff, and say 1000 is right dandy a number but what does that say about your food? And a blessed few ignore both sides and just do the work. I like those kinds.

I don't know if it is guest chef season right now or what. I do know that we've had our menus prepared for us by someone who has never ventured near our kitchens numerous times in the last week. It's kind of fascinating. The way it works for the events we do is fairly straightforward. Our Executive gets the menu from the guest chef. That statement makes it seem simple, but it's kind of like that string tied to a doorknob method of tooth extraction, from what I've seen. We order the products, sometimes with perplexity, we do the prep. The guest chef may or may not appear with direction and tweaking. We put the thing together, go to the event. Once again, possibly we get direction on plating, last minute changes and the like from the guest chef now that we are on site. We cook the food, we plate the food, we serve the food, and then the guest chef takes a bow. Success!

Now this is not true for every event or every guest chef. I've seen both ends of the spectrum - chefs who were so grateful and sincere in their work that they were a joy to have in the space. We made room for those chefs, gave up the line, shared secrets. The ones that only came in to criticize our work, scoff at our prep team as "mere" caterers and basically gum up the works? Well, of course they saw us at our worst - it was all they expected to see.

If I ever have the opportunity to be a guest chef somewhere I hope I can remember this time and be the good kind of guest chef. I hope I will have a recipe that works as well for 800 as it does for 4; even better if I have the math done for 800 already. I hope I will communicate early and often with my needs and then stop making changes unless I have to well before the event takes place. I hope I consider the season when my menu is being served. And mostly, I hope I remember to thank everyone who helps me.

And if I don't remember those things, then I will not have become the chef I hope to be.