This is a new blog in search of an identity, truth be told. And as long as we're being candid, since I'm writing this for myself and one politely interested family member [hi sis! Love you!], it's probably fair to say it's a blog in search of an audience, too. Which is probably why it's been twenty-one days since my last post. Forgive the delay, kind (and solitary) reader. I did know when I began this blog that I wanted it to be a place where I could write about food and food preparation and all that that entails, from the food sources themselves to nutrition and diet to what makes good food good to techniques in the kitchen to high level gastronomy to guilty pleasures, and any and all points in between. Considering that the one reader I know of is basically a culinary novice, I have also taken a sort of instructional tone, and will continue to do so.
In our first encounter, I introduced my first rule of good cooking, which is that great food begins with the market and the decisions that are made there. Buy the best of whatever you're buying. Vegetables and fruits must be fresh and firm and vibrantly colored and, generally, should smell like what they are. Don't buy "Parmesan" cheese in a green plastic cylinder for $2.99; buy a wedge of real, imported Parmigiano Reggiano for $9.79. "But Sagredo," you cry, "we can't afford champagne tastes on a beer budget." Yes, I know, I know. Look, don't get me started! I could rant about quality and how, when, where, and why to get it all day. I know that in the real world, sometimes your family's meals will come out of a freezer or a can and get hot in a microwave. That's reality. But some things you should just do without if you can't or won't get the real thing-- parmesan "cheese" being one of them. If your olive oil is used to dress a salad, say, or tossed with pasta, it needs to be a high-quality olive oil. Not because I say so or anything, but because there is a marked difference between the cheap knockoffs and the good stuff-- and you deserve the good stuff! It's a quality of life issue. And these are the kinds of things you should permit yourself to "splurge" on: the Parmigiano, the olive oil, whole spices you toast and grind yourself, these kinds of things that anoint a finished dish or bring a massive flavor impact. See, it doesn't mean you have to buy filet mignon for dinner every night. That's not what I'm suggesting at all. Take your coffee. Contrary to what your Great Depression-era grandparents told you, you can taste the difference between Folgers and Starbucks. That's what I'm saying. Ok. 'Nuff said.
