Used to be, if you were really into food, you would be
called an epicurean, or perhaps a gourmet.
Such terms evoke images of chandelier-laden French restaurants, stuffy
waiters adorned in tuxedos and snobbish patrons sipping Cheval Blanc with their
pinkies ajar. Nowadays, thanks in part
to the onslaught of cable TV cooking shows and the widespread use of the
internet, both of which have made cooking preparations and techniques
accessible to the masses, a subculture of food lovers has emerged – a people
who commonly refer to themselves as ‘foodies’.
I’m a foodie, and I make no apologies for it. I love everything about food. I love to grow it. I love to hunt it (although I’m not always
very good at it, especially when it comes to shooting birds). I love to cook it. I love to watch other people cook it. But most of all, I love eating it. There’s something about the whole process
that’s just… I don’t know… magical.
So when the creators of this blog asked me to write an
article on my food POV (that’s point of view for those who’ve never watched the
Food Network), I readily agreed – partly because I hate to turn myself down (it’s
not good for my self esteem… on the other hand, I kinda dig the feeling that
comes from turning people away – as if I’m a hotter commodity than I have time
for – I guess I’m torn on this one). Anyway,
back to the point… my food point of view, that is.
Last night, my wife and I were inspired to whip up a meal
that satisfied our love for great tasting food as well as our sense of culinary
adventure. We were inspired by the most
recent winner of ‘The Next Food Network Star’, Jeff Mauro a.k.a. the Sandwich
King. I, for one, have always been
intrigued by the sandwich. The whole
idea that I can take food and wrap it up into some type of grain (bread,
tortilla, flatbread, pita, etc.) in such a way that it becomes a portable,
hand-held meal is just ingenious, in my mind.
So you can imagine my delight when a guy who hails himself as the
‘Sandwich King’ is featured on my favorite channel, with guarantees that he’ll
turn any meal into not just a sandwich… but a ‘great sandwich’ at that. The recipe we attempted, and by all
estimations nailed, last night was a Schnitzel sandwich served with cider
braised red cabbage and raspberry mayo, served with a side of warm bacon
tarragon potato salad.
On a side note, I should probably clarify what a ‘Schnitzel’
is. It is, first of all, in no way
related to the ‘schnauzer’, as I originally thought. They are two entirely different animals, and
when I say animal I mean that in both figurative and literal terms. In German cuisine, a schnitzel is a cut of
meat pounded out thin, breaded and fried.
Doesn’t matter what kind of meat, as long it’s not a schnauzer. We have schnitzel here in the South, but we
call it ‘chicken fried’. Cider braised
red cabbage is a lot like sauerkraut, only more purple, and I love me some
sauerkraut - must be my German heritage.
Overall, I would say this was a meal fit for the Kaiser,
himself. Who can deny the allure of
fried meat? There’s something about pork
with a crunch that just… I don’t know… does it for me. Throw in a tangy bite of sauerkraut and the
creamy sweetness of raspberry mayo (which is just raspberry jam mixed with
mayo), and you have a near perfect balance of savory, sour and sweet. The warm potato salad with tarragon, bacon
and grainy mustard, was the perfect side dish rounding out my Bavarian
dinner. But why go through all the
trouble? After all, wouldn’t it have
been easier just to eat a burger, or perhaps a bowl of Cheerios? Ah, but to think in such terms is against my
food POV. (See, you thought I had
strayed from my original plan to reveal the POV – oh ye of little faith!)
Obviously, we need to eat in order to survive. Everyone knows that, except for anorexics,
and I’m not exactly trying to appeal to the anorexic crowd. They probably lost interest in this blog when
they saw the picture at the top. But I
believe food is about way more than mere survival. I’m convinced that God gave us taste buds for
a reason. I’m sure that the Darwinian
crowd would try to tell us that taste buds evolved as a means of survival, so
that we could taste such harmful things as poison or tainted meat, which is
total hogwash given the fact that all who tasted the poison would still die and
therefore not procreate. The reason,
however, that we were given the thousands of little bumps on our tongue was so
that we could enjoy the 3 plus times a day we’re allowed to stuff our mouths
with nourishment. And I, for one, am not
about to let a good thing go to waste.
Every time I sit down to eat, I appreciate the enjoyment I derive from
the very thing designed to impart life to my body.
To that end, I believe that the consumption of food should be an experience
of appreciation for the things God has given us to eat and enjoy. My philosophy on food, therefore, is simply
this: life is way too short to eat the same ol’ stuff over and over. Eating is partly about adventure with me, and
while you won’t catch me eating dinner with Andrew Zimmern (you know, the guy
that eats all the nasty stuff on the travel channel), I’m willing to try pretty
much anything I consider to be reasonable (i.e. no bugs) once. If it’s good enough, I’ll probably eat it
again, but not too often, so as to avoid getting myself into a culinary
rut. My personal belief about life, and
it’s apparent in the way I approach food, is that there’s way too much beauty
in the world for me to try to limit myself to the same ol’ same ol’ day in and
day out. (In case my mother in law is
reading, don’t worry, I’m not talking about my wife here… I’m just as committed
to her now as I was the day I married her.)
I believe there are experiences I’ll never have if I choose not to brave the
unknown. Likewise, there are people whose company
I’ll enjoy as long as I’m willing to take a chance. There are also views I’ll enjoy so long as I’m
willing to stray from the beaten path. And there are food memories waiting to be created if only I’ll
allow myself to go beyond the familiar.
Food, in my humble opinion, is a metaphor for life. You can tell a lot about a person by watching
them eat. I think tonight I’ll eat
Chinese… or maybe Italian.
