Prague Powder #1, so yeah, that gave the pink to the unsmoked. This batch was done with hickory smoke, if I really wanted color I could go for cherry, but this was my first hot smoke, wanted to keep it simple.
Sesame oil, salt & rainbow pepper marinaded chicken fried in a wok Seasoned Rustic Fries (oven chips), cooked in an oven. Steamed broccoli.
Tonight I had flat bread, cottage cheese and a little "Halva Ardeh" (I explained about this sweet dessert already)
Tonight I had a mixed shish from the Flaming Grill in Chertsey (well, part of one, it will take a few attempts to finish it) This has long been my death row meal along with - I have recently discovered - a pork pie from Gawthorpe's butchers in Denby Dale, world home of the pie.
I figured it out. Its finally hit me, like that stop sign some texting millennial walked into - I know what to eat for dinner. Oatmeal. Mother fucking oatmeal. With diced apples and cinnamon with a hint of vanilla extract mixed in.
It is the dinner of kings. Of Champions, even! Many a night has oatmeal saved a rumbling empty stomach.
Strawberry Shortcake Ice Cream Bar cupcakes for tomorrow's Valentine's Day potluck! French vanilla cupcakes filled with strawberry cream cheese mousse, topped with champagne buttercream and strawberry-vanilla crunch.
We made something like 170 flourless choc tortes for 2. Passion fruit gelee on it, I think. Honestly I could care less... I hate food this week and anyone who wants to eat it.
If it's done well and the chef didn't try to cheat the chocolate flavor by adding coffee (that's obnoxious, and I can always taste it), sold! But honestly, I'd much rather have chocolate mousse. My kingdom for chocolate mousse!!!
My chef is slowly losing his shit downstairs. It's 1am here, I've been here since 1pm and he's been here since 9am. About an hour ago he started talking to himself. Now he's slamming things around. I think I'll finish up the paperwork and take the back door out.
Yikes. Sending you both good vibes! Sounds like Chef needs a day or ten off (yes, I heard you laughing. I didn't say it was possible).
Time to start a reality show and make the customers pay for the privilege of cooking their own damn dinners, then having them ridiculed by Homer and Chef Pierre (I'm just assuming his name is Pierre, could be Jose, Yvgeny, or even Chad. Nope, going with Pierre. He's 5'2", with deep, raised in the African sun dark skin, missing his left pinky finger, and has a strong New York Yiddish accent)
