Sunday, September 21, 2008

Some Food I Ate

Food. We all have to eat it, some of us love it. These photos make me think I need new plates. More plates just means more dishes to wash. Damn. 

Why is everything so far away?

Here we have Butterfish that was cooked in a parchment pouch, with a lemon buerre blanc, bacony crimini mushrooms, with wilted spinach, and sweet potato puree. 

It's a shame you can't really see how yellow that buerre blanc was.

These photos made me angry. I don't like the lighting in my kitchen. From now on, I've decided only to take pictures of food at the dinner table where the lighting is better. Boo white on white kitchen color schemes! Boo. Of course, poor lighting doesn't affect the taste of food.  

Heart bad, fat good.

I should be arrested for these grits. I love grits, but this was just perverse. This was southern food night for me. I took a beautiful, local, Richardson's bone in pork chop, brined it with a bunch of thyme, and pan cooked it in clarified butter (ghee). The grits were cooked using three parts chicken stock, and one part, ahem, heavy cream. I sauteed some jalapeƱos, shallots and onions, combined them with grits, butter, and a huge piece of Cypress Grove Humbodlt Fog chevre wrapped in goat brie. And, of course, you need healthy greens cooked in rendered bacon fat and lemon juice. I won't forget to mention the tempura battered fried local organic okra. Yum.

Dark T-shirt to the rescue.

I glisten on the inside.

These came out much better at the dinner table. I think my Doctor would slap me if he saw that last one. Sorry Al! Heart attacks keep you employed.

I learned this color scheme in art class in elementary school. Purple, orange and green. Yes.

The Butcher got some prime sirloin in. It looked great, and so did my produce that day. Especially the organic corn, and the local organic green beans. I had some sun gold and black cherry toms in the fridge, and those damn grits were still lurking about. 

Dark shirts are a hot commodity in the food porn biz.

I decided I'd use up this giant heirloom tomato that was hanging around, and some spinach by making a nice layered baked polenta with the blasphemous grits. I layered everything into a little casserole dish, added some heavy cream for good measure, and baked it until it was crusty and brown. The corn got some heavy cream action too. The green beans were blanched and cooked in the clarified butter that the steak was cooked in while it was resting. I was drinking some some Becker Vineyards Cab so a Cab Reduction seemed appropriate. 

This is the true nature of the Force.

This was my favorite set of pics. The colors in this meal really made it beautiful. Not to mention that piece of prime sirloin. Not usually my favorite cut -- ribeye is king -- but the marbling was great, and the taste was amazing. 

Pictures of this last meal prompted a discussion between the Butcher and I. All these big hunks of meat. Why was I not cutting it up, fanning it, etc. I would for guests. I mean, I'd share a steak that size if I was hosting guests, especially ladies. I don't know many women that want to be served a huge steak. In the case of these meals, I was eating them, alone, and like to cut up my steak myself. 

4 comments:

Iris said...

Oh man! My mouth is watering and I don't even eat pork. The photos improved as you went along--the last set's particularly great. I always look forward to reading/seeing your food.

amenity said...

For the record, I want to be served a huge steak. Especially *that* one.

TexasDeb said...

Seriously - maybe you are hanging out with the wrong women if they are claiming to want teensy steaks. That's just wrong.

Personally I prefer a steak large enough served with totally decadent sides so that if you want dinner conversation you have to shout over the noise of your arteries slapping shut.

Who wants to live forever?

Shadd Scott said...

Damn!
Lookin' good.
I am now officially jonesin'
for your cooking.

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