I have a new addiction. No, it isn’t heroin or Jersey Shore. For the last couple days I’ve been watching quite a few Iron Chef Americas on Youtube. I’ve never seen the show before, but I’m completely hooked. My psychological and physiological motivation, of course, is the fact that I’m constantly starving due to my illness. I can’t eat much of anything. What I can eat I have to eat in tiny quantities.
However, I can watch Iron Chef America and all the amazing, creative things they do with food.
Parmigiano-reggiano, eggs, paiche, kale, sausage, tortillas, salmon. What wonderful episodes! It really is fascinating to see the chefs’ creativity in taste and design. While what they do is functional it is also, without a doubt, art.
The internet connection where I am is dreadful. Happily, though, this forces me to ping-pong between two addictions: Iron Chef and writing. I feverishly write a few paragraphs while the episode is loading (sardines is the current one), then I watch a few minutes of knife work and emulsions and frying and whatnot until it freezes up again, dash back to writing a few paragraphs while a few more minutes load, etc. I’m actually getting a lot of writing done.
This addiction is making me dream about food. I spent about an hour in bed last night, tossing and turning and fretting over different ways to construct savory tomato pies. Inspired by Iron Chef, no doubt. We grow tons of heirloom tomatoes on our farm and are forced to throw a lot away due to spoilage. I’ve been thinking savory pies would be a good way to limit some of the loss. Perhaps a tomato pie constructed of a flaky crust, a judicious mixture of cheddar and parmigiano-reggiano, fresh basil, heirlooms, and olive oil? Topped off with an egg-washed crust.
I must return to the sardines episode (Morimoto vs. Zakarian). My addition is calling.