No one in my family—immediate or otherwise—is a chef, yet one common trend I see all of us having is our shared interest in cooking. My mom cooks a ton of things, my dad second in number of dishes in his repertoire, and my two brothers not minding breaking out the pots and pans every now and then. Speaking for myself, I’ve been handy in the kitchen since I was in middle school. While I did have it quite easy in the beginning because all I’ve done was to cook breakfast meats—sausages, spam, and eggs—they still were considerable challenges because it wasn’t all about drizzling a heated fan with fat and plopping the meats in. For the sausages, I’ve to use a knife to make small slits so even the insides cook (I remember the first time I didn’t do it—the outsides were charred but when you bite in the sausage, the insides were so cold it was just disgusting to even attempt to recook), slice up the spam from the can (and the can wasn’t exactly easy to deal with either), and finally, the whole mess of having to crack open the eggs and making sure you don’t break up the yolk as you firm up the whites. Small feats for the more experienced cook (moreso a chef), but for a kid like me back then, they’re a big deal.
Eventually I got tired of the same thing—perhaps I got tired of the fact it’s only during breakfast that I get to eat my own cooking—I told myself I need to graduate to cooking an actual dish.
My mom helped me out. She was cooking pasta one day and basically asked me if I can finish up the sauce after browning the meat (it was bolognese, a meat-based sauce with celery and carrots), and I didn’t have problems picking up the wooden spoon and emptying two cans of crushed tomato and seasoning with sugar, pepper, salt, italian seasoning, and a handful of basil.
This continued for a while—I’d come in halfway through the cooking process—until she finally thought I was ready to take the reins. Ingredients were easy to come by and didn’t require so much in terms of prep: You can buy the beef ground up, and there’s the personal processor to chop the onions, garlic, and the vegetables. (Although I must say this: Any cook who refuses to chop their own onions is not a cook. You have to cry. No exceptions.) It was a matter of being patient with the entire thing: The onions and garlic have to release their aromas first before going on, the beef has to brown evenly, and the vegetables have be cooked just slightly so they don’t disintegrate to mush.
Pretty soon, after a few not-so-successful tries (and I only say this because it wasn’t as tasty or well-spieced as I thought the sauce would be) I was conquering the realm of pasta sauces.
My dad came in next. He does a mean pot of upgraded pork & beans. His signature dish required more patience from me: The beans can become mush or crunchy if they’re not cooked properly, I’ve to slice more things like chorizo, chicken, andouille sausage, plus of course garlic and onions; but at this point, I was used to the discipline of “cooking things through”—true with pretty much all tomato-based dishes—that I picked up on the procedure after the first try.
Finally—and I remember when I did this: The Friday before the week that I’d start a new job—I told myself I’d have to cook my own. My recipe? Rachael Ray’s Country French Chicken. (Recipe here.) I’ve seen this episode a number of times on FoodTV, and I’ve always thought of it to be quite easy. One thing I was looking forward to is the use of red wine to flavor the dish. So off I went to the grocery, bought the ingredients—they were all easy to come by, even the creminis—and started with the process.
For some reason, I didn’t season as much as I should have, thus the finished product turned out bland, but because I salted the egg noodles and used salted butter to flavor them, things fortunately balanced quite well in the end. My dad seemed to like it when he tried the same thing that same night, commenting about the need for more salt and pepper in the chicken itself. I made a mental note to myself that if it’s chicken or a nice piece of steak that I should season generously.
It took me two more tries to perfect Country French Chicken, mainly because like Ms. Ray, I eyeball seasonings. (Actually, I picked up the habit from her, so....)
That one dish jump-started my still-growing plethora of recipes that I can whip when necessary. Matter of fact, I have enough that I’ll have something new to eat every day for three weeks:
Pasta
Country French Chicken
Bacon Mac & Cheese
Bolognese
Basic Spaghetti and Meatballs
Carbonara
Lasagna
Pad Thai
Beef Stroganoff
Shrimp with Feta
Penne della Terra
Seafood Alfredo
Puttanesca
Rice toppings
Sesame Chicken
Mongolian-style Chicken & Crab
Cajun Jambalaya
Chicken Curry
Thai Beef Curry
Sandwiches and wraps
Asian-style Chicken and Vegetables
Philly Cheesesteak (a big hit among my friends!)
Steak Sandwich with Mayo-Mustard Sauce
Croque-Monsieur (and Madame)
One-pots
Chili Tots
Beef Bourguignon
Shrimp and Scallop Gratin
My dad’s supercharged Pork & Beans
Among these 25, my personal favorite dish is the Beef Bourguignon. I’ve long salivated doing this French stew ever since I saw it advertised in the FoodTV.com website. Besides, doesn’t it sound so sexy?
For those whom I’ve prepared the Bourguignon to, know that you’re special to me because I’ve whipped up my signature.
Every now and then, I would buy a food magazine or two just to see if I can make something new. I used to just be fine with getting the recipe online, but I found out that I required to see a photograph of the dish before I’m enticed to actually try it out. That’s why cookbooks such as Nigella Lawson’s, Rocco di Spirito’s, and Tyler Florence’s appeal to me so much: They hire photographers and awesome food stylists to make sure each dish that makes it on the pages of their publication stand out and actually entice you to make them at home. I’m actually considering a subscription to the Food Network magazine just because I wholly support the network and its endeavors to make everyone try out cooking.
Now, do I have any interest in pursuing cooking professionally, i.e. train to be a chef? I sincerely doubt it, but I never thought of myself to cook for the satisfaction of others. Basically, I started making my own food for my own personal enjoyment. When friends and family compliment what I make, then that’s a very welcome extra.
So, when are you coming over to my house? I’ll be sure to have at least one day when we’ll not eat out, and I’ll have you try my food. I promise it’ll be good.
Image from thegutsygourmet.net