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Somebody, pinch me

In one of my first posts, I mentioned wanting to become a culinary artist or a tattoo artist, if not a writer. Well, I’ve been writing, but neglecting my other passions. I was thinking about what kind of chef I would be if I took up cooking.

Probably smack dab in  the middle of these two:

Liquid Nitrogen Capirihna by Chef Jose Andres

Paula Deen's "brunch hurger"

I don’t know what that top thing is, but it looks cool. Jose Andres got a spread in GQ’s “Men of the Year” issue for his success in culinary arts–and I do mean arts. He’s always experimenting and tampering with dishes until his customers begin complaining that they like it and he should just leave it alone. His restaurant is one where you get 10-30 courses. Each one, just a bite…or less.

Yes it’s very beautiful, and I’m sure dinner at his place is an experience, but I’m afraid it veers too close toward an experiement.

Mrs. Paula Deen however has some guarantees: lots of fat, lots of butter and lots more butter. Something about two Krisy Kreme doughnuts sandwiching a hunk of meat and  an egg, doesn’t say home cooking. It says heart attack.

I would make food attractive, but comforting. Healthy, but indulgent. Sophisticated but fun.

But maybe not that fun.

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