Deliciously Delectable Old Recipes, Baby. Cook it!
Today, during lunch, I thought about the one brilliant idea I had in my life. Oh, I’ve had many good ideas, some wonderful ideas, and some ideas that were like paper bag moments when the handles fall off and your produce falls onto wet pavement and rolls down a hill, plus you’re in Italy and the streets are black with motor residue and you’re tired. And worse. OK, the being in Italy part wasn’t bad, sorry. But this was a brilliant idea. A wonderful, brilliant, wonderful idea, and I want to share it with you, so that you can use it, if you can and like.
Brilliant ideas require brilliant people. Fortunately, my brilliant idea enlisted a brilliant chef and food artist named Alexis, so I could check that Brilliant Person box right off. In fact, it’s her brilliance that really made the idea sparkle. It was her brilliance in the idea. She’s a brilliant cook. The kind who understands flavors, who makes Opera Jam and who owned her own catering service and who made my wedding cake and who eats all the time. Eats the best food, the good food, the colorful food… going out with her is like suddenly owning a credit card to eat whatever you want, because you’re with a Food Explorer. She takes the time to cook, to combine flavors, and to make gourmet food for dinner. With sauces. Dipping sauces. While watching American Idol or whatever happens to be on TV that she likes. I guess American Idol is over. But the food continues.
So, first, take your foodie friend. The problem for Alexis, and for many foodie friends, was that she had too much good food. So much of it went to waste, as there were delicious left overs that overflowed from her fridge, and that needed a home in my lunch. This is where I (and now you!) came in.
Offer to help your foodie friend. They need space in their fridges, they need to cart those gourmet leftovers to someone else so that they can have room To Create. You be that friend. Do them a real Service. Offer to pay them for their leftovers.
And so it was. The birth of the Brilliant Idea. I got a Gourmet Lunch packed in a brown lunch bag, every day. This often included some drink, some snack, some dessert. Some food kindness that I hadn’t experienced since grade school, from my mom. Little treats. Carrot sticks. And often chocolate mousse cups left over from a catering event the night before.
For over a month, I ate brilliantly.
I don’t remember why this exquisite deal ended, but think it involved me moving away, because I would pack up and leave every few months, returning to former locations for a third of the year. The echos of this brilliance now come in waves; especially today, as I looked down at the humble meal I’d prepared for myself: Quinoa with Veggie Sausage cut into slices, cold, mixed with some soy sauce. So bleh. Maybe I should be grateful: in its appearance, taste, and experience, it conjured better times. Times of Royalty, Kings, Queens, Aristocracy of Taste. That’s what Gourmet is all about.
Now find that friend and Try This At Home.
My MODEST lunch, complete with orange .5 spoon, .5 spork. Think: Napoleon of Flavor.