Scrambled eggs, deli ham, baguette toast


I do not know what fenugreek is. I do not know what it does, what is expected of it. This is a test for fenugreek. This pile of scrambled eggs is all about fenugreek.

That is, when the pile of scrambled eggs is not being about Parmigiano and scallion and chile pepper flakes and uncured ham. Those flavors I am very familiar with but fenugreek will push through all that and expose itself. The full monty. And then I will know fenugreek for what it is. 

The fenugreek seems to be hard little brown seeds. They are difficult to crush completely. They go flying all over the place. Now I am stepping on the hard seeds that flew out of the molcajete onto the kitchen floor. The fenugreek is heated in a little pot along with chile flakes. 



Testing: uno ... dos ... tres ... catorce.

See, we photographer-types like to change things around until we see something we like. You know, to get set up before the action starts. Now it is become part of the mise en place.

Did I ever tell you how my dad got set up to paint a room? He dragged out every tool known to house painting. Tarp, masking tape, newspaper, stirring sticks, drill with a long paint-mixer bit, ladders, trays, rollers, buckets, rags, drop clothes, rolls of plastic, brushes, painters cap, painters pants, shop vac, broom, mop, pole extenders, cans of primer, all the paint, TSP for wall preparation, rubber gloves for the TSP, compressor in case it's needed, compressor hose, compressor nozzle, face masks, goggles, painters blue tape, corner rollers, sawhorse, coils of electric cord, hanging garage lights with reflector backs and light-protector cages, shoe protectors, electric fans, large screwdrivers to open paint cans, rubber mallets to bang them closed. He wasn't satisfied until the entire space was completely cluttered and unworkable. That is my dad's room-painting mise en place.

A small slice of toast on a white plate is not interesting. Mind the shadows.  



The eggs I let go for about 30 seconds longer than usual on heat that is hotter than usual so these eggs are are more firm than usual, a little less like sauce but still very wet and loose compared to what I see outside of home, but that is not so important because now I know fenugreek. It is the flavor I associate with India.

I think it should not be used in heavy doses as I did here, and it isn't all that great on its own. By itself in unreasonably heavy amount it seems to create a negative space that needs something else to fill it. The odor has already separately registered and the taste is imprinted. As I persist the fenugreek takes a shape in my mind. With each bite the shape grows. An incomplete ring. An atoll. As buildup strengthens it grows heavy and finally oppressive, its missing portion also grows like an ache. It needs something. Something opposite to fenugreek, but I cannot imagine right now what that would be.

It might be one of those things that cannot be complimented or contrasted with just one thing. It's a team player. I think saffron is like that. I find it not that great by itself and no one single thing makes a great combination, and yet used judiciously it can be triangulated and quadranglulated <--neologism.  I can see now how fenugreek would be an important element in a curry, and it is also going to fill out stews and the like very nicely. 

Speaking of spices I don't know much about, the people at Whole Foods were amused when I bought three-fourths of their mustard powder along with a bag of yellow mustard seeds and a bag of brown mustard seeds for further experimentation. They knew I must be up to something and asked me. There at the self-service spice counter, and through the place, and then again at checkout. 

Also, I asked the guy behind the meat counter if he would cut up a whole chicken and put it in a plastic bag. So that I wouldn't have to touch it but I didn't tell him that. I don't know what is got into me but touching raw chicken is freaking me out. It causes me to go around bleaching my entire kitchen to make sure I got every surface. It's ridiculous. Anyway, the guy goes, 

"Sure!" 

 ))) WHAP ! (((  
))) WHAP ! (((
))) WHAP ! (((
))) WHAP ! (((
))) BANG ! (((
done

Dude. You dismembered that bird fast. 
  

1 comment:

paul said...

It is amazing!I want to eat them!

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