Pinot, Bretzels, and Cathedrals

Beth once asked me a few years back what my super power was (they were watching something about super-heroes I think). I replied with the suggestion that my ‘super power’ was growing children, because in all fairness, while we do parenthood willingly and with all our heart, we all do need to admit that their is a fair bit of unrealised super-power strength to it. I mean- what levels do we stoop to to encourage our kids to eat The Carrot Stick before The Ice Cream treat, or Go To Bed when the sun is till shining as bright as the morning outside her bedroom window? And persevere through their infernal bad moods because their energy levels are depleted and you tried to give them just a little of leeway and not say NO all the time.

But more recently I have discovered another superpower. If I am perfectly honest, I’ve never been super humble about my skills in the kitchen. Granted, I’ve never really pushed the envelope to achieve fame and fortune, but I am proud of what I have achieved in my life. I especially love being able to advise my friends, one of whom here in Strasbourg tells me she has a personal recipe book of recipes collected from friends that suit the needs of her family, and that most of the recipes in it are titled “Gaenor du Plessis’ recipe for…”

In my desert years when I didn’t work, and cooking for my family doesn’t really count, I wondered how I would ever get back to real-life work in a hot sweaty kitchen, having to figure out menus and timings and stock rotation, and (no thanks to Compass Group), how long would it be before I killed someone from food poisoning. (Excuse this rather larger than life fear. Let me just say, I have never given anyone food poisoning, but due to 5 years of brainwashed-type training while working for Compass Group, the fear of giving someone an e-coli infection was merely a piece of steel-wool away. No, I don’t use steel wool to clean pots with in my own home. Nor those other little metal-thingy pot scourers. I don’t even know what they’re called anymore.)

Needless to say, back in November I was strangely nervous about cooking for people again, trying to figure out what sort of food I would be able to serve. This may be because I was flying solo in the kitchen- I had to prep lunch, and then serve lunch, and clean up after. And I was limited to working 4 hours. Also, nothing on our menu cost more than 11€.  Added to this, my Boss/The Owner/AM wouldn’t use commercial suppliers or buy in bulk, and he would personally be responsible for buying all our stock at the local supermarket.
We also decided there was no point in having a long extensive menu, as AM’s main idea was to serve a plat du jour, ie- Meal of the Day, which we sell for 9€50, and it comes with a small entrée.
It’s probably best I don’t bore you with details of how to decide what sort of menu would be appropriate, how to effectively make a meal out of a small amount of money and try spin a little profit, nor how to manage stock control when you’re really only selling one dish, or- on occasional days when the norm flies out of the window- attempt to serve up 20 meals that mostly all different because the meal of the day just doesn’t appeal, and you’re working on your own.
Each of these has an entire chapter dedicated to it, but I think they’re really only my personal thoughts, minor fears and limitations that make them ‘newsworthy’.

There is one aspect however, that seems to be coming out of the woodwork here. (It’s an Irish pub- there is loads of woodwork ;-).).

Given our financial constraints- let me be honest, the pub does not have the roaring lunch trade that was envisioned- we try to buy cheaper cuts of meat, and if we find something on special that can be an entrée, we buy up a fair bit, and I’m tasked -self imposed of course because AM doesn’t care- to create something different on consecutive days with the same ingredients.
For example- goats cheese and tomato salad on Monday, and a tartine of goats cheese and tomato with a caper sauce on Tuesday. Or green melon wrapped in Black Forest ham on one day, followed the day after by a minted melon coulis served with liver pâté– not my finest choice but nobody complained.
Perhaps I shouldn’t be so quick to judge, but my other grievance/challenge is when he tries to save money and enforces his desires into my menu planning.

Apparently Egg Mayonnaise (egg salad if you’re American) is more than suitable as an entrée. I politely declined his request- and got accused of being all sorts of chef-appropriate titles so in the end I relented purely because we were catering to a tour group of old Irishmen- I just felt they were his compatriots, he needed to deal with their judgements. But seriously???

Obviously, I didn’t just chuck a spoonful of egg mayo on a side plate with a sprinkling of mustard cress. I made my own mayonnaise and baked some real Irish bacon to make a teeny burrito!

• but it does rather look like a breakfast dish doesn’t it?

The next day I still had egg mayo left, so I added in a tin of sweetcorn and we served up egg mayo, a rosette of cheap Parma Ham witha dollop of fromage blanc et persil, with a crispy croûte alongside.

For a while I had sitting on my shelf a stack of the soft shells wraps- about 12cm in diameter but considering we’re a pub and not a sandwich bar, I was not inclined to use them.
Until I realised they could be passed off as an entrée – a la street-food style. And so for a few day, we did- we covered a range of steak strips, tuna salad in a ceviche style, chicken schnitzel with potato and peas- and then ran out of the soft shells. Sigh. It was fun while it lasted. I started envisioning a new career in burrito style street food outside the local clubs..thanks goodness I moved past that idea ;-).

Ham, fromage blanc and peas feature quite frequently. This creation above is when AM came back from the shops with a watermelon and Black Forest Ham- “isn’t it a traditional French meal to serve ham and melon?” he said to me.
I try so hard not to ridicule the situation in my mind and perhaps my frustrations should be taken out in a more challenging manner, like finding a job that actually suits my skills, but damn- this job is super cushy…I work the lunch time trade only and I get paid an amount that I wouldn’t be paid anywhere else. (And not to relate it to an exchange rate, but I do… I’m clearing roughly the same amount per month – doing 20 hours a week- as I was earning in SA doing 45 hours a week, but by comparison I suppose, we pay double for renting the same space here that we rent our SA house for).

But I digress. All of these little moments set an idea in my mind that I could write a recipe book – kind of Delia Smith vs Gordon Ramsay-ish, I guess.
The thing is- the modern day reality- nobody buys recipe books anymore. If we ever need a recipe, what’s the first thing we do? – we pop on-line and search among the million recipes that the Internet has to offer. I know that my friends- bless you all so much- would consider buying a book of mine, but yes, 20 book sales does not exactly leave me with much money to buy a house!

So yes, I do have ‘skillz‘ in creating a tasty, affordable meal out of not-so-fabulous ingredient. I can create an idea out of what’s lying around, mostly because I have 20 years of experience behind me and by now, I know that thyme cooks perfectly well with mushrooms and onions, that lemon juice is just the most magical of most ingredients, that meat doesn’t actually just have to be a big fat juicy steak, that you cannot be without cream in your fridge either, and you would be well off trying to grow parsley- even if it’s just to add an extra dimension to the final product that you serve to someone.
Do I have a list of surprising and possibly unusual ingredients that I am never short of?
Yes: lemons; thyme;sesame seeds and my new favourite- capers. And probably wine. I can’t be sure how much is for cooking and for drinking.
Maybe tomorrow it will be different.
But that’s what I recommend today.

Anyhow, since I have spent the better part of 2 weeks writing this, you’re possibly bored and have also forgotten the point.
But I don’t think there was a point. I think that I was just writing a good old fashioned rambler of a letter to you.

In finishing off, let me say how happy I am that the heatwave has broken. For 3 weeks it felt like I was living in Durban and I was trying very hard not to complain about the sun. And yay that there is just one more week until schools break up. This end of year business is exhausting- 2 farewell parties last Sunday, kids birthday parties that should occur in the holidays but nobody is around, and of course- Moms need to celebrate that we have (only just) managed to survive another school year.

Cheers to us all! And to you back home heading into winter. I only sort of empathise.

Best wishes, massive hugs et la grand bis,
Moi,
Xxx