To Thine Own Self, Be Food

Remember that one day, last December, when I talked about how easy making chicken stock could be?  If you don't, I'm not offended.  It's cool.  I forget things...like, a lot.  Forgot a hair appointment this last Monday.  It happens. In short, if you take your crockpot and a raw, whole chicken on a date, you're going to get some amazing chicken stock. The same kind of awesomeness can also happen with seafood.  Except, it kind of happens in reverse.  You cook the fish/shellfish, then eat it, then use the shells to make stock. In pictures...this: Then, this: Then, this:   My dad recently turned 66, and for his birthday dinner/gift, he really wanted surf and turf.  No problemo.  Lobster tails, shrimp scampi, and steak.  I implored my family to save the shells, lobster and shrimp, so that I could make stock.  Which you see in the pot above.  Some chopped mirepoix, sweated first, the shells, aromatics like thyme, parsley, bay leaf, peppercorns, etc

If you've been with me here at Be Food for a decent length of time, I might have mentioned that I haven't always been in the foodservice industry.  You might have known that I was a public school and later, college-level English teacher, for over a decade.  And while there isn't much I miss about education, one thing lately has stood out, glaring and staring me right in the face every time I punch in to work. Academia. Colleagues. Discussion. I miss intellectual stimulation a lot.  And there is a lot of intellectual stimulation to be had in food and food-related issues.  I just don't have it here.  In my current job settings, that is. I recently decided it was a time for a return to my beginnings.  To reread the authors that inspired me to leave education and become a chef. So, I started with Pollan and his In Defense of Food: An Eater's Manifesto .  And of course, it is as brilliant as I remember.  I want to share a few highlights from the text (especially

So, Brent turned the big 4-0 yesterday.  The Big Milestone. Usually, the tradition is that I make him his favorite meal. Naturally, right? For the second year in a row, he asked for lasagna, breadsticks, and French Silk Pie. Okay. It's his birthday, so what he wants, he gets.  Some year, though, I'd be uber-delighted if he asked for chateaubriand or something, but as he said when I made that comment: I don't even know what that is. Indeed. The 40-year-old's got a point. In a moment of carried-away fancy, I began to ruminate on ways to "spruce" up lasagna (not that lasagna needs sprucing up, really.  It's pretty amazing stuff.  I'm just projecting my own desires onto the dish).  Kale and squash, fried, breakfast lasagna, lasagna cupcakes, tuna lasagna, ad nauseum.... and when I mentioned all these amazing possibilities to him, his face got that..oh, polite little scrunch to it.  He was trying to think of a nice, supportive way to say No, pl

A short entry today. I entered my first Chili Cook-Off.  Ever.  Sponsored by the local pub here in town, a place I visit every now and then.  I thought, Meh? Why Not?   Why not, indeed? The judges asked us to name our chili...spur of the moment!  Inspiration provided by Robert Frost. And, the end result.  Yep.  I took first place. This is my trophy.  *insert big smile and fist pump* Okay, I was pitted against only five other contestants...but, there was some really decent chili out there.  Have a great week out there, dear readers!