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Food is all about balance. Not too salty, not too sweet, with just enough spice to knock at the door, but not so much as to overstay its welcome. It’s a push-pull tug of war on the palate, but when the right combination is struck, few other things can compare. Like food, my life right now is about hovering around an invisible median: Be polite, but don’t be a pushover. Be feminine, but don’t be helpless. Be hopeful about the future, but don’t be quick to make plans that are surely subject to change. Be smart, but don’t be a know-it-all. But sometimes I wonder if my middle-of-the-road attitude about everything doesn’t actually inhibit me from being totally passionate about any one thing. Maybe my supposed favor for logic and reasoning is really just a disguise for my fear of total spontaneity. Maybe one day, in a moment of total clarity, I’ll decide the answer. For now, less thinking and more eating. And cooking. But mostly eating.Following
Second culinary class was a lesson on stocks. I put my hand up to prepare the fish fumet and vegetable stock. The fish fumet is prepared with cod bones, white wine, mirepoix, bouquet garni, mushrooms and water. The fragrance and flavor was nommmm!
Awesome.
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