I love to watch all those reality cooking competitions. I especially like the one where the chef screams like a raving, wild lunatic at the other would-be chefs. I don't know why I like it so much because the head chef is crazy mean. (He better watch it because the way he screams at all those chefs with sharp knives, he's really asking for it.) I think it's like when I was a kid and liked watching another kid get in trouble. There's a certain amount of pleasure in being so close to danger without actually being in danger yourself. It's exciting when it's not you.
I don't know what most of the food is and I've never even heard of it let alone eaten it. They always serve risotto which looks like mushy green rice to me so I don't feel like I'm missing out on much. They come up with these food descriptions and I can't even understand what they're saying let alone what is being served. "Pan seared tuna encrusted scallions with a delicate spray of artichoke and fennel braised in a sweet plum sauce." Huh? Is this a dish, a garden, or pig latin 101? The only tuna being served by me is an-cay opened-ay una-tay.
If I ordered seared foie gras with a minted caramel, I have no idea what I'd be getting. I know what mint and caramel is but I have no clue what foie gras is. By looking at the spelling I tend to think I'm getting some kind of grass with caramel poured over it. I think the word "foie" probably means "fool". It's fool's grass similar to fool's gold. It's just a trick to get you to pay the price of an ounce of gold for some grass they ran out back and picked. No need to ask who the fool is.
Another food that sounds interesting is toasted brioche. I'm sure it's something fancy-schmancy and maybe even good but in my neighborhood if you ask for "toasted brioche", it means you're threatening to kick the mean girl's ass. I'd never order it in a restaurant because the female chef may come out and pour boiling caramel over me.
And garnishes! Good Lord! Our house is garnish free. I don't feel the need to spend time decorating our plates before we eat. Isn't a garnish that piece of green stuff you push aside to get to the food? If it's a decorated plate you want, c'mon over to my house so I can serve you. Chef Boyardee and I will whip up a dish and plate it with pretzel sticks that make a big "J' - you know the way an artist signs her painting?
I also don't serve appetizers because I've never understood the point of them. I'll have to take it slow here because I'm still trying to get this concept. First, I'm hungry - I've got that. I'm still with you. Second, I order food to enjoy and to stop my hunger...still following along. Third, I order more food to eat before my other food comes and that food is called an appetizer - this is the part where you lose me.
If I just ordered food to eat, why am I ordering more food to eat before the other food gets to me? I don't know who this would make sense for except a split personality which some may argue I have.
Let's examine the word "appetizer". This could imply food which would stimulate your appetite for the second order of food you ordered but if I came into the restaurant hungry, my appetite is already well established and I don't think I should be messing with it.
Or, I'm just using common sense here to guess at how this appetizer situation works but maybe they think you are so starving that if they don't put something in front of you quickly, you many begin to chew on their table or eat their napkins. Could they be afraid of hungry people with knives in front of them? I know I'm crabby when I'm starving.
And besides, the appetizer usually takes as long as the food does to get there. So then there must be some kind of food race going on back in the kitchen. Maybe the main dish chef just needs a break so the appetizer chef goes first and then takes his break while main dish guy cooks. It's all so confusing to me because to my simpleton brain, if I eat food before I get my food, I won't want my food when it comes.
Maybe the point of an appetizer is like at the zoo when you try to stick pieces of bread between the bars without getting your fingers bitten off by an animal. Sometimes the servers do that - they come racing by your table and toss a basket of bread on it before you even get a chance to open your dried, sticky glue-like mouth to ask for a glass of water.
It doesn't really matter to me because the restaurants I go to don't even offer anything like any of these dishes because they probably can't afford to put them on the dollar menu. Can you imagine trying to repeat "Sundried tomato and pine nut stuffed beef tenderloin" to the drive-through person with headphones on? Even worse would be when he tried to read my order back to me through that speaker. That speaker would create some mighty angry customers. One day a disgruntled, starving person is going to shoot the living hell out of those speakers.
Maybe I don't understand all this because I don't like cooking. I don't want to spend hours doing something that's going to be gone in a half hour. When dinner time comes, I'm thinking of the quickest possible way to get it over with and be done with it. Should I throw on some chicken breasts, go do something fun and come back in a half hour or do I make grilled cheese and tomato soup again? Which one would be quicker and least messy?
I don't look forward to cooking, I look forward to getting it over with. It makes such a big mess too and then you have to clean it all up. But apparently some people like this process so instead of doing it myself, I'll just keep watching the chefs on TV do it and be happy with my fancy ot-hay ogs-day and eans-bay.