The Islander: Volume 5

9 Apr

And so, here we are, Day 35.  April 6th has made one month since my move and as cliché as this is about to sound, time flies.  I was having a conversation with a good friend late last week and we got on the topic of my move.  “What has been the biggest transition for you since you’ve moved?” was the question that was posed.

Now, having lived with my mother since I’ve moved back home, the answers to this question were limitless.  I wouldn’t say that I’m spoiled per se…nope.  I am.  Let’s just keep it moving  Rotten might I add.  Happy?  And for my friends from afar whose parents kicked them out at 18 to turn their rooms into dens/yoga rooms etc., it’s a cultural thing here in the Caribbean for you to live with your parents late into your twenties and or early thirties.

But we are getting off topic.  There are obviously certain things about home you miss but by far the biggest thing I’ve had to get accustomed to, was cooking for myself.  Now let me be the first to tell you, in my mind I’m the chocolate Bobby Flay.  Mainly because of Chopped and Iron Chef.  I remember one time I was home alone and my cousin called me and asked what I was doing.  I responded “cooking”.  When she queried as to what I was cooking, I stated (matter of factly) “A pureed peanut spread with a grape relish reduction on a toasted brioche bun.”  The phone went quiet.  Fine.  I made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

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Don’t you lie to me Sally!

I figured if the guys on Iron Chef could make up fancy names for the things they were making, I may as well join the party before it’s too late.  Oh well.  In reality however, I’m neither a great nor terrible cook.  It’s always something I’ve wanted to master.  I don’t know what the allure is but I’ve always been intrigued by great chefs and their ability to combine one off ingredients into culinary masterpieces.  I’ve been fortunate to eat great food all over the world which leaves me in my current conundrum.  I love great food…but I’m not a great cook.  Oh what a tangled web we weave.

In any event, coming home at the end of a long day of work and having to cook is not my initially, was not my idea of a good time.  Especially when your mom typically had already thought this through for you.  Sidebar, she had an uncanny sixth sense to always know what I wanted, and prepare it, before I even wanted it.  It quickly dawned on me however, that unless I wanted to eat cereal every night (nothing against it might I add…I’m a firm believer of breakfast at any time during the day…actually I believe you can eat anything at any time of the day), that I should probably get in the kitchen and learn/hone my cooking skills.  No time like the present.

So far, so good as a matter of fact.  I’ve been experimenting in the kitchen and things are actually turning out relatively well.  My apartment is still standing for starters and anytime I can cook a meal and not burn down my residence (or burn an appendage for that matter), I consider it a success.  Small mercies really.  These past two days in particular, I’ve actually surprised myself.  I’ll let the photos do the talking.

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Steak, onions, mushrooms – Notice the translucency of the onions bringing out the sweetness..I don’t know.  I heard Guy Fieri say it.

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Well you’ve heard of Steak A La Frittes….Steak A La Grits.  Clever with the Word Play aren’t I?

See…it looks edible.  And if it’s one thing that Chopped taught me is, it has to at least look good.  I’ve been experimenting with different recipes and actually just bought myself a food processor.  God.  I don’t know what’s worse.  The fact that I bought a food processor or the fact that I’m actually excited about it.  Isn’t it amazing how over time things change?  By no means am I pro, so please feel free to share your favorite recipes.  I’d be happy to try them out.

In the mean time, Life’s a beach.  Ride the wave…but don’t over-salt

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