Who can resist all those fabulous cooking shows—with chefs as well as everyday people utilizing great culinary talent to whip up gastronomic delights? Is there anything more picturesque than dill-speckled hollandaise sauce enrobing purple asparagus on an art-deco plate?
Another lifetime or two ago, I would spend three days prepping for a multi-guest, many-course epicurean dinner. Homemade bread? No problem. Foreign seafood or meat? No problem. Fancy-dancy dessert? No . . . problem.
These days, a gourmet feast consists of toasted baguette with melted cheese and chili flakes. If I want to get really exotic, capers dot the gooey goodness. And, just for the record, it is fine fromage, not the processed crap—uh, type.
Funny how time changes circumstances, approaches and attitudes. Spending $300+ on dinner didn’t produce a blink back then; now it triggers a flinch and a wince.
I may not cook much anymore, but I still appreciate the effort and thought that goes into preparing a meal. Food-show eye candy will initiate a dribble or trickle of drool as a not-so-soft “nummmmmmm” escapes salivating lips.
In another time or place, perhaps I’d have been a professional cook. . . . And one hundred pounds heavier. Hmm. Maybe things ultimately turn out for the best.