||[Nov. 25th, 2008|08:43 am]
I used to joke, when I was a chef, that I feared that I would be most known for my most-requested dish, which was Garlic Roasted Broccoli. |
I mean, for starters, I don't even LIKE broccoli. For seconders, it's an easy, simple dish, that requires very little imagination or skill. I mean, as a chef, it was sort of embarrassing. But every office party, my ex's co-workers would request it. It was my most requested dish from clients. Two clients requested that they automatically get it every cookdate.
But it was a joke, the whole, "oh, great, when I die, THAT'S what I'll be known for". Until I open up the Washington Post today and see that one woman's obituary:
And I think to myself -- hmm, it she happy about that, or is she fuming up there in heaven, limbo, hell, the wheel, the ring, the aether, whatever -- thinking "oh, for chrissakes, a whole life and I'm reduced to "poundcake"?
Although I do want to shake someone's hand for the phrase "stunningly moist" which I think may become my Indian name. And yeah, okay, I want to smack them for not publishing the recipe. That's the least they could have done. She does not sound like the kind of selfish person who would want a recipe to die with her. And the world could use more stunningly moist poundcakes.
This, on the other hand, is more like the kind of thing I would like to be remembered for:
Be sure to check out the bridal party pictures. The blog writer doesn't know anyone who would wear turkey feathers for her wedding. Obviously, he/she doesn't know me. Because, while in my heart of hearts, I don't know that I ever need to get married again -- now I may have to reconsider because I totally CRAVE a wedding with Turkey feathers.
This can be a perfect side dish for any occasion since me and George Bush are damn near the only people who don't like broccoli and it's good hot, but also good at room temperature.
Get enough broccoli crowns to fill up a grocery veggie bag really well. That'll feed four people as a main veg. If you can't get crowns, get the whole thing, but you'll need more. Now cut it into spears. You don't want any piece of stalk to be much more than about a half an inch around. So split them as you will. Toss them in a big bowl. Now take an assload of garlic. At least half a head per four people. More couldn't hurt. If you don't own a mandoline, or a little garlic mandolin/slicer, you should. Use it, or cut as thin as humanly possible, the garlic into slices. The key is, the slices are going to melt onto the broccoli and brown up -- which is hard to do if they're thick. Toss them in the bowl. Toss in a good handful of coarse salt. Maybe pepper, but don't overdo it. Liberally pour in olive oil. You don't need the really good stuff here. Mediocre is just fine. Now roll the garlic, salt and broccoli in the oil. You want to make sure that the florets are all damp. There should be enough olive oil, that there's a little pool at the bottom of the bowl. Now spread the broccoli/garlic out onto a rimmed baking sheet. A flat cookie sheet will work in a pinch, but put foil underneath in case the oil goes wandering. You can use a roasting pan, but if the sides are taller than 1/2 inch, it won't come out as well -- you really need the air to circulate. Now roast it in a 375 degree oven. Until it's done -- which parts of it will be really, really browned, crispy even. A good five minutes after you think it was done. Or -- after you put it in there, a little bit later you'll start to smell the garlic cooking. Mmmm. You'll get used to it. Then a little while longer, and suddenly you'll smell it again. Odds are, it's ready now. Which is either highly professional technique or highly unprofessional, but smell and sound is how I cook. So there.