A Not So Top Chef
I like to cook. In fact in our house, I do most of the cooking. Technically it’s probably more appropriate to say I prepare the meals. To me, someone who cooks simply grabs whatever is handy in the fridge and creates something amazing. You know the type. They can make a gourmet meal with nothing more than a couple of radishes, a hunk of chicken, some olive oil, and a spice or two. While those people are already eating, I’m following a recipe, and painstakingly measuring every ingredient required for whatever culinary delight I happen to be attempting. My kitchen resembles that of a TV chef (minus the chef), with lots of little bowls of carefully measured ingredients spread across the counter. The difference is that I don’t have the already prepared, perfect looking version of the dish to suddenly bring out for the studio audience. Of course I don’t have a studio audience either.
I wasn’t always interested in cooking. Although I liked the eating part of the meal, the preparing part of the process was of little interest to me. I did not grow up in one of those houses with sauce constantly simmering on the stove. In fact my favorite meal in those days was a peanut butter sandwich (still one of my favorites actually). But that all changed when I came across Spencer.
Technically, I never actually met Spencer, who is a fictional detective created by Robert B. Parker. But I’ve spent a lot of time reading about him and that’s where my interest in cooking began. Spencer is a tough guy, the kind of guy you’d want with you in a bar fight. And he can cook. Somehow in every novel, while solving whatever mystery was before him, Spencer still found the time to create an incredible meal out what appeared to be leftovers. Parker’s writing made the preparation of even a simple sandwich sound like a gourmet meal. The more I read, the more I began to wish I could be like Spencer (not the part about being good in a bar fight, let’s face it, I’ll never be that guy). But I did want to be able to throw meals together like it was nothing and somehow the cooking seed was planted.
In addition to Spencer, there have been real people that influenced me too. Years ago, my wife worked for an alternative newspaper in Berkeley, California. Her coworkers were an amazing group of writers and artists. They were “foodies” before anyone used the term “foodies.” Every gathering was a smorgasbord of great food (with lots of wine too!) that they seemingly put together with the greatest of ease. Again I found myself wanting to be the guy in the apron.
Eventually, thanks to the San Francisco 49ers, I became that guy. I had season tickets then (back when they were good) and our tailgates were legendary. Sure, this was not exactly fine dining, but it did give me a chance to cook for lots of people, all of them appreciative. And I also learned a lot from the rest of the group. Week after week, we grilled up a storm. We marinated our chicken, put spice rubs on our beef, and even served homemade desserts. In all the years in the parking lot, I don’t think anyone ever made a simple hamburger. The food was great, the 49ers were winning and I had the cooking bug.
Because of that, for a long time most of what I made came off the grill. Truthfully that’s still the case in warmer weather. It wasn’t until I began watching “Top Chef” that I dared to venture beyond the grill. I hadn’t even heard of Top Chef until I stopped into a Hollywood restaurant called “Grub” (highly recommended by me). My old friend Betty is one of the Grub owners and she excitedly told me she was appearing on Top Chef that very night. Naturally I tuned in. What these people do with food is incredible. I wouldn’t be at all surprised to see them create a fantastic dish out of turnips and motor oil. Okay maybe motor oil is going too far. The point is they’re really creative, inspiring people.
I don’t mean to imply that I’m attempting culinary magic on a nightly basis. I’m still basically a grill guy and a lot of what I do is something simple like grilled steak with roasted cauliflower. The steak is seasoned with salt and pepper and plopped on the grill. The cauliflower, along with some olive oil, a little chopped onion and garlic (lots of garlic), and salt and pepper gets popped it into the oven for twenty-five minutes. That sums up my cooking style right there, “plopping” onto the grill and “popping” into the oven. So simple an idiot (even this one) can do it.
These days, when time permits, I try to stretch a little. Last week it was cedar plank salmon along with grilled sweet potatoes and next week, there is a new stir-fry I want to try (This week I’m working 12-hour days so there could be a few peanut butter dinners in my future).
I’ve definitely come a long way but I still haven’t reached Spencer status. I still faithfully follow recipes with little improvisation but I’m pretty sure if I keep at it I’ll get there. I’ll never make it onto Top Chef. But I do think eventually, over time I might become the guy who turns a piece of celery into a three-course meal. And while there is hope for that, no matter what happens, I’ll still never be good in a bar fight.
