I have always loved kitchen stores. Long before I knew how to use just about anything you could find at them, I could always be convinced to buy that one cool thing that savvy cooks couldn’t live without and once home, they lived pristinely in my kitchen, except for when I was in a relationship. I always seemed to pick men who were stellar cooks and they happily used my well-equipped kitchen.
I was the customer that cash register displays were conceived for. This was how I acquired my inexpensive tomato knife...an impulse buy in Williams Sonoma one day when there was a particularly long line. I couldn’t imagine why one would need a special knife just for tomatoes but one day I might. And for many years, I abused it and used it for everything I was not supposed to.
Eventually, during a drought in the relationship area of my life, I finally decided to learn how to cook. As I traveled from novice to competent to really good cook - I don’t think I will ever be considered “un cuisinier sérieux” - I rarely had to race to the kitchen store to pick up something I didn’t already have.
And while I now use almost every piece of equipment I acquired so long ago, the one that has become my favorite is my old friend, my tomato knife.
Wednesday was a hellish day. Because you left your
Blackberry in a restaurant the night before, you failed to remember
about the
four people coming over for dinner that evening but were conveniently
reminded
of it when you listened to your messages after coming in the door just
after 6
pm. “Really excited to see you guys tonight – what wine can we bring?”
At that moment, just when you were looking forward to watching the
Dexter episodes you missed over a leisurely dinner of re-heated pizza
and beer did reality bite you in the ass.
I’m a pasta snob. I admit it and I don’t apologize for it. I believe that great pasta is an Italian cultural artifact that’s been given to the world. And when I talk about pasta I’m talking about DRY PASTA, that is, Durum Wheat pasta. Pasta made with semolina from exceptional (now, often North American) hard winter wheat.
Mention a party that revolves around food, and I’m there. When my friend, Bobbie, sent an email out a couple of weeks ago asking if anyone was interested in getting together for an asparagus-pickling party, I hit reply and typed “For sure” without hesitation.
In addition to being an absolute pasta freak, I am passionate about potatoes. I could eat pasta everyday and potatoes, probably every other day. I love them every which way. A number of years ago Oprah's personal chef at the time wrote a cookbook called In the Kitchen with Rosie. It was a huge bestseller and featured very low fat recipes. There were some good recipes and techniques in the book. One of the recipes that made a big impression on me was called Mustard Roasted Potatoes.