I get really psyched when I hear about a beer pairing dinner. They are pretty rare and harder to pull of than wine pairing (due to beer losing carbination once opened). It’s a nice, freshing alternative to wine pairing. Especially for this kind of weather.

Stone Park Cafe in Park Slope is having a Six Points Brewery beer pairing dinner this Wednesday. $55 prix fixe, six courses. Reservations required. 718-369-0082. Peep the menu.

I planted an herb garden today.

I was planning on going to Home Depot, but decided to support a local business, Gowanus Nursery, which is a three minute walk from my apartment.

The ladies who work there were not to my liking. They were weird. I don’t know how to explain their weirdness, except compare it to the public school librarians I’ve dealt with in my youth. Maybe it’s the lack of proper customer relations. No one ever came up to me and asked me if I needed help and when I went to pay the lady said, “That’s all?” like I was a child trying to buy one stick of gum. Maybe they are just socially awkward and care about plants more than they care about people. Anyway, the nursery was very cute and had lots of interesting plants.

I picked up two basil plants, thyme, sage, dill and rosemary. (Total $26.01 with tax)

I am not a gardener. My mom had a green thumb and plants were her favorite hobby. She managed to grow dozens of orchids in the greenhouse my dad built for her. She could grow cucumbers, tomatoes, figs, blackberries, chives, strawberries, various kinds of mint (which she used to barter with in Chinatown!), Vietnamese basil, and some other Vietnamese herbs that you are hard pressed to find, even in NYC and whose names I don’t even know. Even some Asian vegetables (like bitter melon, which is probably the only ingredient I can’t stand). I would constantly find her outside, bent over in sweatpants and would go up to her and poke her in the butt cheek and say “farmer butt” (I wasn’t a toddler, I was a teenager). She attempted to get me into gardening, but I was always more interested on what was on tv or the Turbo Graphix. So I can tell you the secret code to unlock the Princess for Ordyne but don’t know what the hell a perennial is.

So I have a new backyard. And I spend money weekly on various herbs at the supermarket and I don’t even use all of them up (I don’t know why they sell such large quantities. I mean, I don’t need a pound of dill for $2, can’t you just sell me a large handful for $.50?)

So I’m pretty shitty at gardening mainly because I’m lazy and half-assed. I hope I put them in the right place for enough sunlight. I hope the soil is okay and that I planted them far enough apart. If any knowledgeable gardeners are reading, I’d like your advice.

Also, a bird just shit on my computer screen while I was writing this. Everyone’s a critic.

One negative about working in a kitchen is that it devours your hands. Nail polish is a no-no because you don’t want it chipping off into someone’s food. So here’s my home recipe for a manicure that will leave your hands soft and smooth :

Ingredients:

• Nail clippers
• Nail file
• Nail buffer
• Cuticle cutter (these jobs are expensive, like almost $20, but like a quality pair of tweezers, they will last you for years)
• Tablespoon of baking soda
• Two tablespoon of kosher salt or sea salt, divided
• Tablespoon of olive, vegetable or mineral oil
• Large slice of a lemon or lime

Clip nails to desired length. File nails in desired shape. Buff the rough edges. Soak nails a small, shallow dish of baking soda and one tablespoon of salt dissolved in warm water for several minutes. Cut your cuticles. Dry hands.

Put salt and oil in the palm of your hands and make like you are washing your hands. Rub it in good and hard and in every little crevice. Squeeze citrus juice over your hands and nails (you may want to skip this part if you have any open cuts or burns). Rinse with warm water and a very mild soap. Dry. Follow with some good hand cream if you need it.

Now, if you want fancy extensions with airbrushed Mercedes-Benz’s and diamonds on them, I can’t help you. I don’t think anyone can.

I’ve been thinking of having a meet-up for Brooklyn food bloggers. No so serious plans as of yet, but hit me up if you are interested and I will make it happen. Maybe an outing to 360 or any affordable, fun eatery that you can suggest.

I am waiting impatiently for the release of Ratatouille. Here are some food films that I summarized in mathematical form:

Tampopo: Ramen noodles (Japanese woman + truck drivers) + couple who likes to bump uglies with food involved + some other crap about food + cuteness = Keep a pack or two of Cup Noodles with garnishes ready to go ÷ don’t get it confused with a “tampoop”

Like Water for Chocolate: Mexicans + sex + overbearing mother + cooking + bandalaros = Hawt

Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory: Some crazy dude who may or may not be a child molester but who I think is a eunuch + poor sissy kid who I want to punch in the face + spoiled rich bitch + overachieving bitch + Ooter + asshole know-it-all pre-hister + midgets in orange face + songs + candies = Good trip - acid

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory: Michael Jackson (Edward Scissorhands - the hands) + adorable British kid who is poor + spoiled rich bitch + overachieving bitch + Ooter + asshole know-it-all pre-guido + Middle Eastern midgets + songs + candies + some squirrels + (Saruman - magic) = Good trip - acid - 1970’s.

Chocolat: Chocolates (French woman + bastard child + Johnny McDepp) + puritan townsfolk = Sexy results + (diabetes - Wilford Brimley)

Mystic Pizza: Pizza + some white bitches + Connecticut = I don’t know fucking know I think it’s like Steel Magnolias ÷ Pretty Woman or something that needs + pizza and - bitching

Eat Drink Man Woman: Chinese widower + 3 (single daughters) + suitors + Chinese home cooking = Call Uncle Dai’s and order me a Happy Family + Chinese fried chicken + seafood wonton soup + 1/2 (Peking duck + extra MSG) + some of those candied walnut dealies

Simply Irresistible: (Buffy + magical crab obtained from outdoor market + bad actor + sassy black sous chef + magic) - Robert Palmer = Shitty romantic comedy about a cook who keeps live seafood out for weeks on end get me my phone I’m calling the health inspector

Soul Food: Black family (sassiness) + soul food = I didn’t see the movie ÷ shame

I am missing a bunch I haven’t seen, so feel free to leave your own formulas.

Dear New York Magazine / nymag.com,

I dare you to go one week without mentioning David Chang or Momofuku. For your reward, you will get five pounds of that Berkshire pork you love so much.

Sincerely,
Chewy B.

I am really big on trying new foods. Here’s a short list of foods that I’ve eaten for the first time lately:

Ramps: The Restaurant has been getting ramps in. We sautee it in a cast iron pan or grill it, chop it and add a small bit of it to the duck confit risotto. It’s an amazing vibrant green color, looks like a leafy scallion and tastes like concentrated garlic meets leek. They are in season right now and for another month or so. Here’s a recent NY Mag piece about them.

Salsify: Another ingredient at The Restaurant. It looks look like a long, skinny parsnip covered in dirt. It’s a root vegetable with the texture of parsnip (less stringy, though) or celery root. There are good, but I don’t know if they are worth the prep work (your hands get really dirty and sticky when peeling them). They are supposed to have a faint taste of oysters, but I don’t get that. Maybe because I’m not a supertaster.

Sweetbreads: I am against veal. I have never purposely ordered it, but I will try a bite if someone else does. But I figured if I am going to be a chef, I have to put away my food convictions and try everything. So I ordered veal sweetbreads as my meat course at L’École. It’s extremely tender, pretty silky and tasty. From what I understand, they are extremely perishable and you need to take care when prepping them (they need to be soaked in acidic water or milk). It’s a luxury along the lines of foie gras.

Meurgez: Vincent brought over some of these Moroccan lamb sausages to my house warming party. Juicy, spicy, flavorful. Ah, it’ll be hard to go back to regular sausages.

Have you tried anything new and noteworthy?

Here’s a NY Times article by Mark Bittman about cooking gear. (Check out his list of kitchen item you CAN live without – including what Joey V. has been saying for years, the microwave.) I heart Mark Bittman: He’s so much more useful to the average person than Frank Bruni or New York Magazine are.

It’s coincidental with what I’ve been thinking about lately. I’ve been obsessing about knives and knife brands. But having a kick-ass, impressive knife won’t make me a better cook. Of course, it’ll help make my prep work easier and faster. But I think in the end, for home cooking, as long as your one chef’s knife (and maybe a paring knife) is comfortable and consistently sharpened, you’ll be alright.

Minimal kitchen gear and multi-taskers.

This why I’m going to be stubborn and stick to my guns about not buying a salad spinner.

Keep it simple, stoopidhead.

One of the blogs I read had a link to this NYTimes article about going to culinary school and what happens to aspiring cooks afterwards – financially and career wise.

This is just another reason pushing me away from going to culinary school. Do I really need to spend $35k to learn the basics, make some foodie friends and make a few connections? That’s not to say that I think culinary school is a total waste of money. But since trailing at The Restaurant for a month, I’ve learned that it’s not so much formal education as it as about passion and energy and hunger. I guess that’s why I do better than some CIA students in a professional kitchen: I just want it more. That’s how I got my foot in the door at one of Brooklyn’s best restaurants.

Sometimes when I tell people I want to be a chef, they ask me what I hope to do with it. As if enjoying what I do is not enough. Learning how to master techniques is not enough. But those people are the type to put heavy emphasis on self-worth based on social, financial and/or job status. And I tend to stay away from people with outlooks like that.

Yes, one day I do hope to own my own place. A tiny little bistro like Le Gigot in the West Village. Or similar to this amazing place, L’Encrier, that Matt and I went to while we were in Paris last fall. (I have a big food boner for French fair and prix fixe menus.) But that dream is decades away and I don’t even dare plan for it right now (though one thing I want is a heavy emphasis on a kick-ass craft beer menu). For now I want to learn everything humanly possible about food and cooking. I want to do what I do well.

I’ve not a fan of Ayn Rand or supporter of objectivism, but one thing I do agree with her on is that you should do your job well, whether it be a cooperate executive or a janitor. That’s why I get really angry at half-assed eateries that don’t take pride in their food and try to give you old, frozen microwaved dishes.

So, yeah, I’m gonna make shit for money. I will work 70 or 80 hour weeks. I won’t get to sit in front of a computer and watch hilarious YouTube videos, Google message gossip with my friends, wear cute new outfits nor take lunch breaks where I can run errands. But I will be content, proud, skilled, knowledgeable and doing something I love and look foward to doing every day. And I think that will make happier than most people are. Well, I am hoping so. We’ll see.

Go-go gadget palate!

One of my favorite songs for shits and giggles (or “shiggles”) is Reggie and the Full Effect’s “F.O.O.D. aka Aren’t You Hungry”. Here are the lyrics:

F-O-O-D food, food
F-O-O-D food, food
F-O-O-D food, food
F-O-O-D food, food

Saw you at the buffet
Lunch is best time of day
You are big and I’m small
You’re as wide as I’m tall

F-O-O-D food, food
F-O-O-D food, food
G-O-O-D good, good
F-O-O-D food, food
Food food
Food food

Food

F-O-O-D food, food
F-O-O-D food, food
F-O-O-D food, food
G-O-O-D good, good

Food

Now if only they could build a rock opera around it. I’ll give it some thought and get back to you with a treatment. Speaking of, is anybody out there pissed about the second half of R. Kelly’s “Trapped in the Closet” not coming out? Where is, R., where is it? Who are Tina and Roxanne? What’s gonna happen with the midget? By the way, rhyming “midget” with “shitted”, pure genius. Truly, a king amongst men.