After sitting through two hours of American Idol (as I'm typing those two words I'm hanging my head and mumbling the admission), I decided it was time for some culinary education. I've taken to dvr-ing a few cooking shows during the day and then Ron and I watch a couple in the evening hours when we've tired of sitting by the fire, reading/napping/catching up on life.
One of my favorite new discoveries (although it's been around for awhile) is "Good Eats." The host is chef Alton Brown and you can count on him to be wacky/entertaining and extremely knowledgeable about the chemistry of food. I feel like I'm adding some finesse to my cooking and learning exactly why it's important to always include the salt portion of any recipe. Why? Because it brings out all the other flavors you've added. Case in point: tonight we made generic old Minute Rice, but this time I used chicken broth instead of water and added a couple tablespoons of butter, a healthy pinch of salt, some pepper, parsley and dried basil. It was fabulous!
And - hallelujah - Jamie Oliver's back on TV! The Naked Chef (who was never really naked -Jamie's just a really brilliant chef who cooks beautiful food that's simple and stripped down) has left the city life and is now happily ensconced in a country manor, cooking up all sorts of earthy, lovely things. The show is called, "At Home With Jamie" and it's on Saturday mornings at 8:30 on the Food Network. Way to early for me, hence the dvr. And I love to hear him talk! I don't know what kind of accent it is (ok, I know he's British) but his dialogue is filled with slang - plonker, bash it - it's just fun. Check him out. And maybe the best part of Jamie are the names of his daughters - Daisy and Poppy!
Actually, the only one Ron watches with me is "Barefoot Contessa." And here's why. The beginning of the taping always has the last few seconds of "Everyday Italian" with Giada DiLaurentis. And, as sure as the sun rises in the East and sets in the West, there will be cleavage. Just a glimpse, but I guess it's enough. Over the holidays, Kate made the observation that Giada looks like a Bobble head doll. And, by golly, she does. She has a really large head. And a large forehead. Tonight when I called her Bobble Head, Ron asked me what I meant. I told him. He said - and I swear if I'd looked at him his eyes would have been glued to the TV as he was speaking - "Does she even have a head?" I kicked the ottoman out from underneath his feet. Does she even have a head? Pa-lease!
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