Although I attempt to be a somewhat spiritual person, sometimes the introspective I have when away from the kitchen for a week or so really are abundant.
OK…here’s the story…
So lately my thought process has been thinking about the use of hands in our profession. If you positively have sanitized hands, the touch of food is an enjoyable experience once you learn to stop and smell the roses every now and then.
A few weeks ago I did a cooking class, the premise of the class was to do a party for 15, and we had a great time. During this class, one of my friends, Harry, who was attending the class was looking around the kitchen for a whisk so that he could mix a cornstarch slurry he had in his hand…”Harry? Your hands clean? Then wash ‘em and use your damn hand, it’s the best tool you have in your kitchen!!”
“So…What came first? The Fork or the Spoon? Its funny how both of them come from the shape of our hand isn’t it? And Hands are a whole bunch older!!! Use your damn hands when you’re cookin’ Harry…”
We did a four course meal that night, and I ate with my dinner with my hands; it was awesome; I was able to explain this little spiritual food trip I was on with my hands. Man did that feel good…primitive but awesome.
The CheffyBabble also made for a good tableside story-time.
I love it when my own culinary wit/wisdom or whatever in hell you wanna call it triggers the spiritual thingymabobby in my own brain housing group and really motivates me.
This was a good inspiration for me personally and spiritually, since then I am more aware of using my hands when I cook and especially when I eat, when I have time to sit down and really enjoy what I am putting myself through at that moment.
A week or so ago there was a praying mantis on the wall in my bathroom…ah…that rocked me. He stayed there for like 3 days. Don’t ever know what happened to him, but it was pretty awesome finding beauty in a life so simple.
Sometimes I scare myself with this introspective of how much life rocks…. But isn’t that what it’s supposed to be like? Simple, beautiful and awesome…? No Passion, No Love….
So, anyway outside of the battleground of my kitchen, I’ve been on this “everything is freaking beautiful” kick, especially when I am eating.
Last night I went out for midnight sushi, at a friend of mine’s restaurant, they had a DJ that also was a friend of mine just serving sushi and jamming out to Mike.
Needless to say, the ideology of being off to eat as much as possible in a short period of time and jam out with Mike was on…Although not intentional I was back on this freaking “everything is beautiful” kick again.
Big bowl of rice, a dozen pieces of various sashimi, two crunchy rolls…ah….the CheffyBoy is set.
I have grown to love eating with my hands more than I ever have. I mean, I’m a boy, of course I like eating with my hands, but now it has taken different meanings.
Mike started spinning some eastern type chants that was really good and put me back into the “everything is beautiful” thingy, me becoming one with my tuna sashimi.
I got around to thinking about the history and etymology of sushi, from way back when BCE to what the new chefs are fusionizing and representing as sushi today and the millions upon millions of hands that have touched it since the salted fish of the Tsou Dynasty
Sushi is perhaps one of the only traditional foods there is left, although like I said; the fusionaries have taken the tradition to the next level, it still is one of the only professions left where there are still purists. I love both worlds, the visions of the fusion and the traditional spirit of a sushi chef.