Beginning the Journey

In the last post, I told you about some of my background and the rediscovery of cooking.  In this post I'd like to share with you, dear reader, a bit on how the journey began.


I am a meat-eater.  A carnivore.  I happen to enjoy being a carnivore.  I have no time or patience with anything that resembles vegetarianism or veganism.  Fruits, vegetables and the like have their time and their place, however, humans are designed from the ground up to be apex predators and darn it, we're good at it.


That being said, I had some friends over who were hungry.  I got a crazy idea that since I could make butter, I could cook.  I went to the grocery store, purchase a few sirloins and got to cooking.  I started the steaks out by covering them with Lea & Perrin's Worcestershire sauce.  Things were looking up.  I had also added some herbs from a bottle marked "Italian Seasoning".  This stuff was smelling up the whole kitchen and boy-oh-boy did it smell great!!


Then I got a crazy idea.  The Worcestershire sauce was thin and runny, I wanted something a little thicker, so I grabbed a jar of honey and tossed some in there.  After some faffing around I came up with a mixture that I liked.  The steaks were done and ready to serve. I put them on plates, handed them to guests.  I turned around to grab the cookware off the stove, put it in the sink, turned around and the steaks were gone.


I was subsequently trotted off to the grocery store in order to procure more steaks, as I was told that the steaks were too good to not have more.  It took me several weeks to figure out the proportions to make the glaze absolutely perfect.


The idea that someone, who I know was not just blowing smoke up my butt, really, really liked the steak was pretty earth-shattering for me.  I had not had that kind of reaction before.  Never before had it been DEMANDED, in no uncertain terms, that I make more of something because every last bit had been devoured.  It was a great feeling.  It was like being high without drugs.  I LIKED that feeling and I wanted more.


Thus, the steaks, hamburgers, and omelets continues on a sporadic basis.  The idea of cooking on a more regular basis continued to marinade in the back of my head.

Welcome to the Unfussy Chef

Hello, dear readers, whoever and wherever you may be!


My family has owned and operated a nursing facility since the year I was born.  My first job was working in the dish-room of the facility.  The work was hot, sweaty, greasy, grimy and all over just not very fun for the average 14 year old.  I, however, was entranced by it.  There was something so quiet and peaceful about the kitchen when the lights were off and things were quiet.  It seemed as if the kitchen was effused with a sense of endless possibilities.  That same wonderment still holds true for me today.


Since that time, I went on to work in such esteemed haute cuisine establishment as: Roy Roger, McDonald's, Burger King to name a few of the more well known ones.  Jim's Restaurant in San Antonio, Texas, TGIFriday's in Overton Square, Memphis Tennessee, French Quarter Suites Hotel, also located in Memphis Tennessee to name a few lesser know establishments.


My crowning achievement, however, was the United States Navy.  To be honest, the Navy and I didn't get along very well.  It was a dream that was best left as a dream, hindsight has shown.  I was a Mess Specialist, in other words, a Navy cook.  In 1996 I spent 8 weeks at Lackland Air Force Base, in San Antonio, Texas learning how to screw up prepare food for the US Navy.  For reasons not necessary to go into here, the Navy and I decided that it would be best if we parted ways, which we did.


I would love to say that I continued in my course of food-li-ness, however, that was not to be.  I changed course and went into Information Technology, where I have been ever since. 


It was only recently that I rediscovered the joy that is cooking.


It began with something simple.  It began with butter.  Yes, the humble yellow stick of greasy goodness that no omelet should ever be made without. That wonderful substance that has been a staple of cookery for centuries.  I was (and am) entranced with butter.


Somewhere along the line, a few months ago, I got rather aggravated with the whole store-bought butter idea and decided, I was going to make my own.  I did some research and found that making butter was really not overly difficult.  All it required was a quart of heavy cream and a stand mixer.  Could it be an easier?  I think not.


So, I proceeded to head to the local grocer and lo and behold!  They had heavy cream.  Albeit, they only had 1 brand with 1 fat content but they had the cream none the less.


I quickly grabbed it, headed home, threw the heavy cream into the stand mixer, 10 minutes later out popped the most beautiful sight I had ever laid my eyes on!  A whopping pound of butter that I HAD MADE!!!!! I DID IT!!! I made butter...butter for crying out loud! I made butter!!  It was a HOLY SH*T moment like no other I had ever had.  It was awesome.


I decided that now that I had made some butter, I had better use it.  So I started making omelets. A LOT of omelets.  I was beginning to turn yellow from al the butter and eggs.  After a while the omelets were just not all that appealing, so I set it aside and let the idea of cooking marinade in my brain.


I'll tell you more about how things came to be in the next post