It is frustrating, but I’m a larval food blogger and I’m approaching it the same way I do food and really everything in life. It’s a learning process. I can’t get good without sucking first. I have to do the suck. It’s necessary. People with Natural talent have no appreciation for the journey. Poor buggers.
Now at the same time, I’m also really wishing I could find an experienced camera operator who will work for food, because damn.
“Hey. Homeless guy! Your sign says you’ll work for food. Can you operate a camera? GET IN THE VAN!”
I’ll post a recipe when I’m happy with it. I’m certainly not there yet. The first time worked out perfectly, the second time, verifying everything was a bit lackluster.
If you’re not familiar, Bechamel is the milk gravy from which springs many delightful daughter sauces like Mornay, Soubise, Nantua, et cetera. It starts by poaching and onion pique (onion, bay leaf, cloves) in whole milk (or half and half for you sensualists out there – you have my respect) and then adding the onionmilk to a blonde roux (fat, usually butter and flour cooked together until the flour no longer smells raw) and seasoned with salt, white pepper and nutmeg.
To be competitive is to alter what you do, not for the good of what you are doing, but to dominate others according to the standards set by others. When I compare that to the man who’s done this his whole life for the love of doing it and to pay his bills, there is no competition.
I was very happy with the “StealthFire” Pea Salad. Very cool and refreshing with a very sneaky heat level. The German Style Baked Potato Salad was as expected, as was the Caramel Banana Pudding. The brisket was outstanding. I didn’t get to add the butter to it as I had wanted, but it didn’t matter. It was juicy, it was succulent, it was really very satisfying.
Again, I don’t have a recipe for gumbo. I never have. Every time I make it, regardless of the variety, I’m forced to ponder people who have “award winning gumbo” and “secret recipes”. Those sort of concepts continue to elude me. I eat what I like. I cook what I like. Still at some point, I do need to document “my” gumbo.
