Timid is epic fail

What's the weirdest, oddest, most outlandish thing you've ever eaten? And no, I'm not talking about when you were 3 years old and decided that that dirt clod looked like a tasty afternoon snack. I'm talking food - real food, good food - that doesn't normally make it on to the normal american dinner table (or even into the house, for that matter).

So many people in this country are scared to eat. We're conditioned to look at 'meat and potatoes' as not only the norm (of course every region has its signatures and staples), but as a standard to which everything else must reasonably mimic or else be thrown aside in disgust. There's nothing wrong with enjoying a nice cut of beef, but why shy away from a taste of octopus?

Afterall, it's all about experiencing something new, engaging in new tastes, and adventuring into the unknown.

And hey, if you're going to try something new, really try something new. It's one thing to test out a new chicken recipe, but it's another thing entirely to pick up some skate wing from the local grocery (if you're fortunate to have a local market that would carry such things, that is). You're not going to really experience food if you always fall back to canned soup and lunchmeat sandwiches. That's not to say that you can't or shouldn't have favorites, but that is to say that, if you want to get the full experience, you need to be willing to branch out beyond your standard burger and fries.

That said, I feel that I'd be the worst sort of hypocrite to tell you to go off and try new things if I didn't share with you some of my own experiences. So please, sit back and be inspired on to greatness (of eating, that is).

Escargot: I had the pleasure of spending a week in Paris this past Spring, and with that came a lot of great food. I was actually on a cruise down the Seine river when I had the chance to try this dish (actually this was the second time... the first came from an 8th grade french class where the sampling consisted of a microwave snail - my suspicions that they had been recently captured from the sidewalk outside were never prooved - served in a paper condiment cup). It was served as a cassoulet with wild mushrooms (a classic cassoulet being fancy-talk for white beans and meat slowly stewed, however as with this example variations on the classic ingredients exist and refer more to the method of preparation).
I wasn't about to walk away from a real shot at escargot, so with fork in hand and previous memories shoved back I dove in. I'm glad I did.
The snails themselves have a great earthy flavor, and a slightly chewy, to-the-tooth texture, both of which are a great compliment to the mushrooms. The sauce was, to say the least, incredible. All in all it was a delicious dish.

Octopus: This one is more recent for me, in fact it was just today that I tried a bit of octopus. My own plate was filled with a very well done falafel, some nice pita, and other accompaniaments, but I wasn't about to turn down a taste of this guy. Taste is hardly the word though, since the dash of added salt and pepper comprised all of the flavor that was to be had (yet another reason to not be bashful - if it doesn't have much of any flavor, you're at least not going to get a bad flavor when you try it). Really the main component here was the texture. Slightly chewy, and the tenticles offer an interesting contrast between the smooth outer skin and the little suction cups on the inside, but it wasn't unpleasant. I can see this adding a nice dimension of texture to an otherwise plain dish.

Fois Gras: I'm not going to lie, the idea of eating innards doesn't exactly cause me to jump for joy in and of itself, however this is hands down one of the greatest things that I have ever put into my mouth. If you're like me and don't get excited at the prospect of liver, at least continue to be like me long enough to give it a chance anyway. You might just be pleasantly surprised. The term "meat-butter" is probably the best way that I can describe the texture. So incredibly smooth and creamy, but not at all erring into the range of "nasty smoosh". The phrase "textural euphoria" springs to mind.

Challenge yourself. Open your mind, and open your mouth. You never know what you'll love until you try.

Where function meets fashion

What is art, really? Is it paint and oils laid on a canvas? Notes written on a page? The motion of dance or the lines of a sculpture?

To this I must say no, for art is something both far more immeasurable and meaningful than any of these things.

The reason for this query is that there is a fairly noticeable split between those that believe food, the presentation and sensory interaction, is art, and those that do not.

If you haven't guessed by now, I am of the mind that it is. Or rather, that it can be.

As to my reasoning I ask again, what is art? Can an idea so abstract in nature be captured by a simple definition of medium? I feel confident enough to say that such a claim is silliness. Art is the act of creation. It is giving form to emotion, thought, and idea. I have to say that I find it extremely difficult to describe something that by nature goes beyond the ability of mere words.

Now, as I said I don't believe that all food is art, but rather that food can be art. Just as not every brushstroke or strike of the chisel will be part of the world's next great masterpiece, not every meal deserves to be logged into the annals of history. Some, however, can be truely noteworthy. I would not say that such status is dependent on the type of cuisine, level of dining, or other related factors. To me, all that matters is the culinary experience. The fact is that you can tell when the proverbial blood, sweat, and tears have been put into a dish. When something is loved from its very conception, when the first flavors are matched, the perfect presentation imagined, all aspects joining together to form culinary bliss... you will know. Trust me when I say this.

Perhaps the strongest point that I can make is the fact that food has transcended its simple function of sustenance and survival. Sure you can survive off of blue box and ramen (although I don't know why you would want to), but to really enter the realm of artful food you must go beyond this. Excite the senses, bring back memories, submerse yourself in the entirety of the experience. To go beyond, you must create. You must feel. You must love.

These things may not describe what art is, but they at least will give someone an idea of what art is about.

Thou dost not partake of the flesh? Tis heresy!!

You might think that in a class where the primary cooking techniques are poaching and steaming people would be open to a vegetarian day. Afterall the class focuses on healthier ways of cooking and eating, so going a meal without meat makes sense, right?

Apparently not.

While I was rather excited (I'm dangerously close to being a vegetarian as is), the day was met with groaning resentment from the vast majority of the class. Animal friendliness aside, if I'm going to be steaming something I'd much rather be steaming some veggies than a nice loin cut. I'm not here to rant against poaching as a cooking method for meats; it can add a lot of nice flavor and it is a nice healthy way of cooking which is great, but regardless of flavor I do miss a nice sear.

Given meat as the item in question, I'll take a nice quick sear to start and then finish with some good ol' roasting time in the oven. Worried about the extra fat added by searing? Instead of pouring all that oil into the pan, give the meat a nice rub down or brushing of oil to coat. You'll be using a very small amount of fat, and you'll get a nice clean sear out of it.

If this apathy toward vegetables was an isolated incident I wouldn't have reason to pause (other than to sigh, shake my head, and move on with life). Unfortunately it seems far more widespread than my classmates. We're a meatcentric nation, mainly because we can afford it; in both the land and resources to raise livestock, and the money to purchase the finished goods. I'm not here to make some ambiguous anti-meat statement. I'm simply here to make a pointed pro-vegetable one.

First of all, don't use the word vegetarian. Use the word vegetable. The difference? "Vegetarian Night" is a nigh death sentence to some, implying punishment by lack of meat, or maybe the sad outcome of not having gone shopping in time and being left to throw together the last dregs of edible bits and pieces still hiding in the refrigerator. "Vegetable Cuisine", though, is something entirely different. Just ask the chefs at Ubuntu in Napa (http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vd3d3LnVidW50dW5hcGEuY29tLw==). It's not at all about cooking without meat, it's about celebrating the wonderful flavor, texture, color, and culinary experience that is cooking with vegetables.

Look beyond a plate of steamed veggies. Forget childhood nightmares of brussels sprouts and the smell of cooked cabbage (which, actually, doesn't happen if you don't overcook it). If you've never enjoyed true farm-fresh vegetables, you're missing out on one of life's finer experiences. Few things offer such clean, fresh taste, such intense flavors. We need to stop opening cans of green beans that have been sitting in a warehouse for who knows long waiting to be shipped, and start looking at fresh, in-season beans. Get rid of the mindset that everything should be available whenever and wherever we want it. As much as I'd love to have access to beautifully ripe peaches year-round, that's just not how it works. Focus instead on choosing produce that's in season and, when you can pull it, local. Boons to local economy aside, most fruits and veggies don't take too kindly to days of travel spent couped up in a semi trailor.

Trust me, your efforts will be rewarded. When carefully selected and well prepared, vegetables can form a plate all their own.