“This one’s a keeper,” he said as he took a picture of his empty plate and insisted that it would be the most appropriate way to portray something so tasty.
Maybe he was right. I was almost too hungry and grouchy to care. Plus, I’m thinking that the tagline to this blog should be “196 ways to be disappointed with your own photography skills and/or the quality of your camera.” Catchy, huh?
So I felt pretty content to hand over the camera and be done with it all. But… you want to know who Suha is and what kind of Chinese Chicken Dish she makes, and there’s nothing in that photo to give you any clues.
So here you go. I can’t tell you any concrete facts about Suha, but I’m guessing that her family is well-fed and happy. At this very moment, they’re probably rising up and calling her blessed because of her skills in the kitchen.
This is cabbage, carrots, onion and green pepper with chicken that soaked overnight in a homemade marinade. There’s curry in here and ginger and soy sauce and honey and lots of love. If I could get the 6th and final member of my family to appreciate cabbage, we would be set for life. There are so many amazing ways to cook with cabbage, but I can never 100% enjoy it at a family meal, all because of that one guy at the table who is sitting there feeling disappointed and filling up on plain rice.
Don’t get me wrong. I can 99% enjoy a good cabbage meal. But there’s that sappy 1% of me that wants to get up and make a grilled cheese sandwich for my little darling. Except I’m not that kind of mom. And I’m still convinced that one day soon he’ll grow up and enjoy every food group.
Some of the tastiest meals around here are also some of the least attractive. I feel the same way about people. Kind of. Or maybe not at all. Possibly what I really mean is that I don’t believe that beauty equals quality. I appreciate beauty, but I don’t trust it. Food presentation may be important in classy restaurants or even on a decent buffet, but this is real, everyday life. (Everyday: One of my very favorite words. Because it’s my favorite feeling.)
I feel a little suspicious of people who do things like this house salad. Or this shmancy dessert. Or especially this edible pet art. (Actually, if I met that last person, I’d ask them to be my friend.) Fancy presentation on a plate is to me the culinary equivalent of paying a professional makeup artist to turn your face into something you’ve never seen in the mirror. It’s still the same face, still the same food – just slightly more pretentious and less friendly.
If I have a choice (and I do) I’ll take a venting friend in sweats and a mushy looking plate of food any day over beautiful perfection.
Have a lovely Wednesday. And a lovely everyday.
cooking through 