Monday, April 13, 2015

Food and Taste

I like food, but I don't think I'm a foodie.  I watch Top Chef and that's it.  What can I say?  I like Tom Colicchio.  But I could never be a chef, because it appears to be an essential part of a chef's repertoire to be able to use eggs in a variety of ways and serve scallops.  I hate eggs -- can't stand the smell of cooked eggs, although I can bake with 'em and use raw eggs with no problem -- and I think I'm allergic for scallops, so how would I know if what I was cooking was safe for human consumption.

Even so, I'm fascinated by what the contestants do on TC.  They come up with ingredients that I've never heard of, much less considered mixing to make a fabulous dish.  And to be as knowledgeable about so many different cuisines is tantamount to algebra to me.  I sit in awe of these chefs.

That being said, I don't like being told what to eat or how to enjoy it.  Take meat, for example.  I used to know a guy who was disdainful of anyone who would eat meat cooked above medium raw.  That meant he was disdainful of me.  I'm sorry, but I was given opposable thumbs for a reason.  I don't hunt my food on the open plain, I don't eat it immediately after killing it and I use utensils not only to be civilized but because my food is too hot to handle with my bare hands.

That this isn't considered haute cuisine doesn't bother me in the slightest.  I can't think of any French foods I really like, so trying to imitate the way they approach food is really irrelevant for me.  Raw meat, or tartar, as some like to call it, doesn't appeal to me in the least.  I like my meat cooked.  My girl likes her meat really cooked, in part to make sure whatever living organisms are still in the meat but shouldn't be are killed.  I'm not into carbonized meats either, but I'm a heck of a lot closer in my appreciation for medium well-done steaks than raw or medium raw steaks.  Karen likes her bacon very crisp.  I like mine rubbery, or so she says.

I also don't care for sour cream on potatoes.  This is something that mean people enjoy, but I don't. Likewise, these same people will put sour cream on things like tacos and nachos.  I detest corrupting perfectly fine tacos and nachos with sour cream or, worse yet, guacamole.  I don't give a darn how healthy avocados are:  I hate them.  The only thing I like about avocados is their color.  After that, they make me gag.

Admittedly, I have a lot of weird food pairings where I like one thing but not another thing of which they're made.  To wit:  Banana nut bread.  I hate the stuff.  I love bread and I like bananas and nuts perfectly fine, but I can't stand banana nut bread.  I don't know why this is.  But I don't like banana nut bread.

Similarly, the thought of eating bread pudding is disgusting to me.  Again, I love bread and pudding's fine, but wet bread is horrible.  In Chicago, Italian beef sandwiches are traditionally dipped in juice. When I'd order mine, I'd tell them to leave it as dry as the Sahara desert.  Nothing, besides eggs, is more gross than wet bread.  But I'm not going to eat Italian beef dipped in juice just because everyone else is doing it.  At the same time, I'm not eating bread pudding.

Those who insist on pairing wines with food are beyond me.  If I like a particular kind of wine, I don't care if it's red or white (actually, I do; I don't drink white wine if I can avoid it) and will drink it with whatever I'm eating.  Not only that, don't ask me about hints of this or aromas of that that one can find in the wine.  If it tastes good to me, that's all I care about.  The notion of going to all that trouble to get the right wine with a particular meal is just too much fuss for me.

And when it comes to dessert, I could care less about how it looks.  In fact, if it looks too pretty, I won't eat it.  The same goes for presentation of main courses too, I suppose.  Food is food, not art.

To paraphrase a saying about beauty, taste is on the tongue of the eater.  As with my music, I know what I like and I like what I know.  I'm not adventurous when I eat, and I'm not snobbish.  I'm just steak and potatoes.

(c) 2015 The Truxton Spangler Chronicles


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