The Knackered Chef
I am a particularly indecisive person. Every day I encounter a stack of decisions. Choosing which way I'm going to go cuts into my meditations as soon I wake up. It is a world of knives of forks. Do I get out of bed? What music shall I put on? Which pub shall I go to? Chess or backgammon? Lager or bitter? Withnail & I or Cheech and Chong?
Now obviously these questions could be avoided by answering no to the first one but, alas, for most of us verticality can only be postponed. My indecisiveness is never at a more acute level than when I decide I'm going to cook some dinner. Immediately I am caught in a struggle between all kinds of meats, fish, spices and herbs. Imagined flavours dance around my tongue and tickle my nostrils leaving me in a slightly euphoric paralysis. But ultimately the arse must be got off and the dinner decided on. It's often good to defer the decision until you have done the shopping. Supermarkets are unlikely venues for inspiration but if you cling closely to the world of your head and remain oblivious to the screaming child and the raving mum, then there is a certain sense of serenity in going gathering amongst the British aisles.
In fact, one of my tastiest creations was a result of a dithering shopping session. Throughout the day I had felt the tension mounting within me between a nice basil pasta dish or some spicy Mediterranean meatballs. I didn't know what to do. The split was dramatic and threatened to pull me apart. I had no clue as to whether to head for the pasta or the rice, or the oregano or the mint. I was young and confused. This schizophrenia reached its highest point when I froze up at the deli counter unable to make a snap decision between some olives or sundried tomatoes. In a flash of panic-induced brilliance I hit upon the answer to all my problems. I went for both. It was a thoroughly liberating experience and I applied this principle to the rest of my shop. As I went both ways around the supermarket I felt like a true buy-sexual. By the time I got home I was bursting with excitement and anticipation. I was going to make a pasta-meatball extravaganza that was to result in an orgy of Mediterranean flavour.
To make the meatballs I added to the lamb mince a finely chopped red onion, a herby threesome of mint, basil, & oregano, a spicy trinity of ginger, garlic, & chilli, lubricated by a beaten egg, olive oil and seasoning. Squidge the mince around to mix the flavours and add some Matzo Meal to ensure firmness. When that's done roll the meaty mix into balls, dust them in seasoned flour and shallow fry them in olive oil until they are sealed. Now for the saucy business. While grooving lightly to some Cafe del Mar, prepare a sauce in a pan consisting of red peppers, tomatoes, onion, olives, some Tabasco and red wine. You might wish to test one bottle before deciding it is okay to use. Next, add the oily balls to the sauce and simmer for 10 minutes before putting it all into a dish and leaving it in the oven for 30 minutes. Serve on a bed of pasta and garnish with some fresh basil and sundried tomato. Tuck into to a massive fest of hot, herby, juicy deliciousness!
17th May 2001