Food and sex, two of my favourite things. The two, really. Perhaps I’m secretly male. Maybe a hermaphrodite. The Caramilk secret of Steff. Who knows.
Anyhow, suffice to say that I don’t really get into porn, so I settle for Food TV. Oh, my freakin’ god, the goodness. Tonight’s a good Food TV night, and since I’m sexually frustrated and sort of on a diet, it just makes sense. I have a couple observations to make.
One. I was watching a pissy British cooking show, and I was marvelling at the importance of communication in the kitchen. If a chef wants to successfully pull off a night of cooking that results in totally satiating his clientele, then he absolutely must do a few things well. First off, he really needs to know how to season. He’s got to keep it just spicy enough. He needs to know how to control the temperature; when to kill the heat and bring her to a simmer. He needs to engage in conversation when necessary in order to know exactly what’s going on in all regions of his domain. I won’t insult your intelligence by explaining the commonalities between a good chef and a good lover. You can do the math.
Two. There are as many kinds of restaurants as there are breeds of sex.
- For starters, the slow’n’easy ones that cater to all your little desires and never, ever rush you.
- Then there are the always-safe, purely utilitarian fast food restaurants where you get in there quick’n’dirty, like one of the masses, and when you’re through, it may not set your heart afire, but it whetted your appetite and you will have gotten exactly what you were expecting.
- Don’t forget the avant garde, with the crowds who follow the trends and seem to be around for a while before fading back into the masses, something for a time, and good while it lasted, and definitely always interesting, but somehow never really felt real.
- Then there are those that leave you stunned at their constant reliability and seeming perfection. They’re the pinstripe-suit of the restaurant industry; always classy, always fulfilling, always reliable, and always safe, but in a reasonably good and comfortable way.
- And who doesn’t love the exotic? They take you to a place you’ve really only read about, tap you into a different culture and a different flavour, in every sense of the word — and leave you somehow feeling just a little more cosmopolitan because you’re there then.
- Who says you can’t go home? There are the down-home, c’mon-in-and-sit-awhile establishments that keep you feeling like yes, I really can go home and thank god, I can leave. It’s good for awhile, but then you remember why you left in the first place: Something different was necessary.
- Finally, there are my favourite, the unassuming type you always have your suspicions about, but leave you utterly surprised at how masterful they are, even in their simplicity. They’re quiet, out-of-the-way, with a casual, confident appearances that belie the full intensity of their real deal.
It’s a beautiful world of flavours out there, and I unfortunately have far too great of appreciation for each.
My, I wish I was doing a little dining this evening. Well, ironically, I could have been, but as geared to go as I may be, I absolutely know I’d let myself down. It’s called honesty. 😉 A smart night in.