random thoughts and thoroughbred selections

Thursday, January 13, 2005

Taking Stock

A couple weeks ago I was doing a little grocery shopping. Now, it bears mentioning that I�m fairly talented in the kitchen, although cooking for one is certainly not the easiest thing in the world to do creatively.

I bought more meat than usual. Normally, I�m loading up on frozen pizzas, some pasta, and choosing some more ready-to-cook type entrees to make it easy on myself on weeknights. That day was a little different. I bought beef, chicken, pork, and veal � of which I have only eaten the veal (breaded/fried cutlets, and damn were they good).

I make mention of this because when I�m looking at a three quarter pound package of veal cutlets, I�m not just flipping through a mental rolodex of recipes. I�m going through my kitchen inventory, wandering through the produce aisle, dreaming up a marinade, and wondering if there�s something that I�d like to try to do with these beautifully pink and tender cuts of calf that maybe I haven�t thought of yet.

Maybe I don�t always execute the complex game plans I�m formulating in my head, but I�m thankful that even though I might not be keeping my culinary skills on the path they were a few years ago, that side of my creativity hasn�t wandered out of my grasp as of yet.

That being said, I feel like I need to trot out my skills and actually try something new. I�ve got that charity auction rapidly approaching, and as I will be needing to impress to some extent with my creativity, I think I need to rehearse a little bit.

I�ve been back to the store a couple times since that trip, and each time I�ve visited I�ve found myself in the meat case staring at veal shanks and bones in various sizes, all perfect for veal stock.

I�m evaluating the bones and imagining a velvety gorgonzola laced veal sauce over gnocchi with some perfectly tender chunks of veal on top. I�m envisioning sort of an Italian barbecue thing with a red wine and chili veal sauce tossed with pulled veal off shank on crostini. I can almost taste a well-executed simple risotto with a finely crafted stock providing the flavor. Maybe a veal bisque.

Stock is the foundation, the jump off to all these different avenues of exploration. There�s something deceptively complex behind building a great stock. It�s not simply bones and water, it�s not just adding root vegetables, it�s not about bouquet garni carefully bundled and in measured amounts.

The key to any great stock is time. It�s all those things above to be certain, but (and don�t bother excusing the pun) it all boils down to time. A rushed stock makes for an average risotto. A well crafted stock can make that same Arborio transcendent.

I understand this in the kitchen. Few things bring me more joy than spending eight straight hours at the chopping board and over the burners creating something delicious for that night�s dinner. In the kitchen, the higher quality your foundation, the more impressive your end product.

And great stock takes time.

Another blogger said to me recently, �I gloss through a lot of blogs, but I READ yours every day.� That was flattering. I know what it is I�m doing here, and it absolutely satisfies a creative jones that I�m not going to let wither away. But, and I�ve mentioned this before, I�ve got this nagging feeling that I�m not really writing the way I want to be writing right now. When I told Otis this weekend that �I feel like I�m all over the place,� I don�t really mean that in a literal, subject matter sense. What I mean is that I often re-read what it is I�ve just typed up, and I�m not hearing what I want to hear. I�m not saying �I suck,� but when I read something that is focused, I hear it. It breathes. It communicates. It has a singular voice.

I know I get there from time to time, maybe even more often than I give myself credit for. The feeling I have, however, is that I have something to say and that I just haven�t figured out how to say it yet.

And you�d think after nearly three quarters of a million words (how staggering is that to think about?), I�d have it nailed. Actually, rephrase that. �I�d think� after nearly three quarters of a million words, I�d have it nailed.

It was about 1AM on Friday night when Otis, Al, Eva, and I ended up back at the bar in the casino. I expressed this, maybe not as articulately as I did above, to Otis. I think he understood what I meant. And what he told me � about years of writing in composition books, then weekly emails to his friends, and finally in the framework of a blog � helped me take stock with a little more comfort. It took him awhile to get to where he wanted to get with his writing. And it�s probably going to take me awhile too.

Which gets me back to veal bones, root vegetables, and bouquet garni. I�m learning that it�s the foundation that matters. I may feel inconsistent and unfocused at times, but what I�m doing in this space on a near-daily basis is allowing myself the time to build that stock and boil it down to something concise but delicious in its simplicity.

Once I�m happy with what I�ve made? Then I just have to figure out what to do with it from there.

[>>]posted at 10:21 AM by BG - click to email
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