I know, I know. I've missed a week or three of posts. But I have a good excuse. In fact, I have a wonderful excuse! I recently landed a new job at a wonderful company local to the Pacific Northwest called Metropolitan Market. Yes, it is a grocery store. But it is a magnificent grocery store that really focuses on local and upscale ingredients and fantastic customer service. But the best part is that I get to utilise my skills in a position titled "Culinary Artist." That's right; if I were to get business cards, they would carry the label 'culinary artist.' In some aspects I am just a glorified sample-lady. That is mostly what I do- put food into little cups and hand it out to people, repeating myself over and over and over. But you know what? I love it. Because it is usually something I have made. Something I cooked right then and there. And people will ask how I did it, and I can give tips. And the more they come in, the more they trust me, and the more questions they ask.
Just yesterday I was able to help a woman looking to use a vanilla bean for the first time. She didn't know where to find it, or what to do with it, and how it differed from extract.
I was also able to give a couple of people a mini-history lesson on why black rice is called "Forbidden Rice." They loved it and it intrigued them so much they bought it.
You might not think grocery stores are magical places, but let me tell you, mine is. I get to spend all day among a variety of ingredients, from all over the world, and it is my job to learn about them and pass that knowledge on to others.
I might never get around to trying every single thing we carry, but I'm going to try. And I'm going to try and know as much about those things as I can. So if you ever need to know what cheese pairs well with a fig jam, or what is a cheap champagne you can take on a picnic, or how olives might be paired with salmon, I can help.
It's been quite a journey to get to where I am. But I do feel like I'm doing something I can be proud of. And I have a lot of people to thank for setting me on this road. First is my Mom and my Gramie, who let me help them in the kitchen as a little girl and for letting me lick the spoon and beaters. And to my parents, who made me help with dinner as I grew up, even though sometimes it seemed like a chore. To Jonathan, who wasn't afraid of epicureanism in the home. Who made me my first frog leg, duck fat potato, and olive oil ice cream sundae. To Lis, who encouraged my mad scientist ways and still does. To Michael, who pushed me not to just make food, but know it. To the WS Gang, for always being willing to explore a new cuisine and eat like there is no tomorrow. And to Reid, who supports me, is proud of me, and tells me I am good at what I do, even when something goes wrong. And to the rest of you, if you've ever eaten anything of mine and told me you liked it, or have wanted to, or even just for being my friend, foodie or not. Thank you.
Just yesterday I was able to help a woman looking to use a vanilla bean for the first time. She didn't know where to find it, or what to do with it, and how it differed from extract.
I was also able to give a couple of people a mini-history lesson on why black rice is called "Forbidden Rice." They loved it and it intrigued them so much they bought it.
You might not think grocery stores are magical places, but let me tell you, mine is. I get to spend all day among a variety of ingredients, from all over the world, and it is my job to learn about them and pass that knowledge on to others.
I might never get around to trying every single thing we carry, but I'm going to try. And I'm going to try and know as much about those things as I can. So if you ever need to know what cheese pairs well with a fig jam, or what is a cheap champagne you can take on a picnic, or how olives might be paired with salmon, I can help.
It's been quite a journey to get to where I am. But I do feel like I'm doing something I can be proud of. And I have a lot of people to thank for setting me on this road. First is my Mom and my Gramie, who let me help them in the kitchen as a little girl and for letting me lick the spoon and beaters. And to my parents, who made me help with dinner as I grew up, even though sometimes it seemed like a chore. To Jonathan, who wasn't afraid of epicureanism in the home. Who made me my first frog leg, duck fat potato, and olive oil ice cream sundae. To Lis, who encouraged my mad scientist ways and still does. To Michael, who pushed me not to just make food, but know it. To the WS Gang, for always being willing to explore a new cuisine and eat like there is no tomorrow. And to Reid, who supports me, is proud of me, and tells me I am good at what I do, even when something goes wrong. And to the rest of you, if you've ever eaten anything of mine and told me you liked it, or have wanted to, or even just for being my friend, foodie or not. Thank you.
This meal was supposed to accompany some marrow bones, which Reid and I had never eaten or cooked before. But since first times aren't always what you expect, it didn't work out. Our oven was probably too hot or we cooked them too long, or both, and all the delicious marrow we intended to scoop out ended up melted all over the roasting pan. But, c'est la vie. We stuffed ourselves anyway.
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I love meals made from little nibbles. It feels very European, or like I'm on an adventure, even if I'm sitting at my dining room table. We had three cheeses: gruyere, parmigiano, and gouda; a baguette, kalamata and garlic-stuffed olives, red and gold peppadews, bread and butter pickles made by my friends Nace and Kaitie, and a caper relish. Most of these ingredients came from my store and Whole Foods, as a little celebration for my new job and for a lifetime of culinary discovery (and mishaps) together.
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