Innings and Outings

I was out of town last weekend to do a cooking and tasting demonstration.  I had been auctioned off as a special event for an eclectic group of e-egg-heads, art enthusiasts, accountants, attorneys and one scientist.  I arrived late Friday afternoon and immediately upon stepping out of the frigid airport and into the blinding sunlight ripped off my heavy cable knit sweater.  I had been warned San Francisco was experiencing a heat-wave.  But the disparity between their definition of a heat-wave and mine is as vast as the Grand Canyon.   But it was hot.  Within ten minutes my limo arrived, (the infamous Blue Super Shuttle), and before long I was perusing my way through the kitchen cabinets and cupboards of the event’s primary hostess. 

Early the following morning she and I finished grocery shopping and began prepping.  By 6:00 p.m. the food to be tasted was prepared.  All the ingredients for these same dishes to be demonstrated were arranged in orderly fashion on large jellyroll pans in sequence of presentation.  The recipes were printed, the tables set, the beer and wine ready for consumption.  Two of my co- hostesses were wrapping up their vodka tonics when the third and final co-hostess arrived.  With thirty minutes left before start time there was a final push and we were ready.   Everything was in position so one of the girls poured us all a glass of wine and turned on the game.  I was, after all in Giants/49’er country. 

Finally our team scored a run in the ninth inning, tying up the game!  All of us jumped to our feet cheering.   So of course we went into extra innings.  Two of the guests arrived shortly thereafter and were thrilled to see we had the game on.  Straight away they sat themselves down on the sofa, were handed a couple of beers, and our conversations rolled at the speed of one of Lincecum’s grounders.  More guests arrived.  They too were offered cooling libations, a couple of chairs and joined us to watch our bearded boys, in orange and black.  The game went into another inning, and then another and then another.  The score was still one-to-one. 

By now all the guests who had purchased tickets to participate in my Tasting/Demo remained secured in their seats with drinks in hand.  We were now in the thirteenth inning.   From the edge of her seat one of the attorneys asked,

“Is anyone else getting hungry?”  

 Of course we should start cooking!   What a relief as I had been holding dinner for several minutes.  And the Giants too, were on their third or fourth relief pitcher by this time.  A unanimous decision was made to record the game, but still keep it on, without sound.

 An instructional Chef versus the Giants.  This gave me some stiff competition, but I was on my game, in my own hometown.  You may know it as Silicon Valley or The Bay Area.  Some, who are afflicted with details and specificity, would correctly refer to this section of the Peninsula as The South Bay, noting that what my hommies and I call The East Bay is really the Bay Area.  The few who have been around the longest know this neighborhood as Professorville, due to its proximity to Stanford and the fact that at one time, most of these then humble abodes, purchased at far less than one to two mil, were inhabited by those who taught at the University.  To me, it’s just home. 

Early October but the unusually high temperatures and lack of air conditioning meant the appetizer I had chosen as part of this menu months ago was a lucky choice.  Frozen rounds of lemon slices, ever-so-lightly brushed with freshly grated ginger juice, topped with a pitcher’s-like mound of caviar, brought in from Russia as a contribution from Co-hostess number three.  I pinched just a spot of wasabi paste on the mound, serving as a rather deceiving blast for the tongue.  This combination served my students well, by opening their taste buds so wide none would be reaching for the salt shaker any time soon. 

I calmed things down and gained control of my now over-excited fans with a simple Bistro Salad.  Bibb lettuce, toasted walnuts, cubed apples and Mandarin oranges.  I demonstrated the art of preparing a simple vinaigrette.  It always amazes how few take the time to prepare this most basic and economic of embellishments for salad courses.  I was asked why I didn’t include water in my ingredients.  In my opinion the inclusion of water only serves to extend the quantity of your product while reducing the potential for a viscous dressing that hugs the greens like a sinewy runner rounding first base. 

 We stopped our tasting demo to watch a play and see who was left standing.  It was now the bottom of the seventeenth.   I didn’t allow for a lengthy delay.  I brought the fans back by deftly pulling the mixture of ground beef and pork from the refrigerator and added a line-up of spices any coach would be proud of.  I then demonstrated the art of curving a meatball into a perfect round and how to maintain that shape even while cooking.  Our resident science pointed out the heat seemed a bit high in my skillet.  The Giants hit a fly ball that was caught at this same moment.  She was right I had to take it down a little, just enough to finish the play but not burn out the remaining meatballs.  Next, the sauce that would make these Hungarian Meatballs, Hungarian.  Paprika, red pepper flakes, cumin, coriander and fresh parsley.  These aromatics, when blended with sweet tomatoes, bell peppers and shallots gave rise to a crowd of flavors big enough to hold the attention of any ballpark loyalist. 

As I continued to show and tell, my sous chefs tirelessly assisting all along the way, I brought out the ingredients for my Sweet & Spicy Quinoa.  The grains had been simmering and were now translucent and plump.  The rich Kalamata olives were chopped, the cinnamon ground, and the pignolis toasted.  Just as three of our guests rolled their heads back while exclaiming,

“Ohhhh, that’s chiffonade!”  A great cheer arose.  The Giants scored!!  Finally, in the eighteenth inning, they scored just at the exact moment I outed the secret to evenly slicing fresh mint into attractive and edible threads!  Shots of Russian vodka all around!  This was all worth celebrating!

  No one balked at the offer for more shots of Russian vodka or my final play, Tropical Fruit Ambrosia.  I opted out of sour, whipped and marshmallow creams, using instead a simple syrup infused with vanilla and white rum.  This gave the ripe mango and kiwi a fair chance to play up their island influences.  Poppy seeds added texture.  Judging by what little was left in their serving bowls, I hit this one out of the park. 

What a game – what a night.