May 20th, 2008, by Ben
Hi, I'm Ben. The hairy one without the shirt on is Kelvin. We’re here for the food.
For the past few weeks, Francesca has been super busy and often too busy to post. I’ve been feeling bad for you kind, supportive, virtual folks out there on teh interwebs because she’d always come home with great stories to tell, fewer pictures than she'd like, and several Tupperware containers of wonderful, scrumptious, adventuresome French or Franco-Italiano or Franco-American-o stuff that she would let me devour while she pulled her hair out about her homework. It typically proceeds like this (note: French names are approximate. -Ed.):
Two sleeping cats sense the proximity of food, and wake up. In sweeps a disheveled Francesca, proto-chef extraordinaire, dropping her bags and throwing her skull cap aside.
- Omigosh. Class was brutal. My knife cuts are slow. My potage parmenty hey was broon wah and my jooble becks formently was a little on the poor neh side. I only ate a banana and a classmate almost decapitated me today.
- serves self some soupUh huh. Looks yummy.
- It’s vichyssoise. I totally messed it up.
- Vicious wha? Mm. I like it.
- There’s not enough salt and I didn’t have time to pass it all through the food mill right because someone borrowed mine and didn't wash it and I don’t have the parsley and it’s been in the temperature danger zone for at least three hours so maybe you shouldn’t eat it and it probably settled and...pulls hair...all we have for dinner is three first courses and...
- dejectedly at soupOh. So... is it ok if I like it?
At this point Francesca withdraws a knife bigger than her arm. Ben’s eyes grow to the size of the plates in front of him. He tentatively slurps some soup, then suddenly Francesca whisks away, muttering something about new homework she needs to do.
Ben watches her go, then finishes off her soup, and starts eating cold pasta out of another dish, thoroughly enjoying it.
Now, that might have been dramatized for effect, but I thought it was important to illustrate exactly why Francesca has lost 5lbs while attending cooking school, and I have gained those very same 5lbs. Also, it is worth pointing out that I am very far from minding. I think the act of saying all this stuff is important to help remember — reinforce the stuff done well, and remember how to avoid the mistakes. So I encourage it, and it’s more interesting than your average “How was your day, honey?” conversation.
So, why did I hijack her blog today? Easy. Everything that gets cooked also gets eaten at some point, so when things are really crazy for Francesca I thought I could keep you all appraised on what’s going on by posting about all the great stuff she’s bringing home. The photos won’t be top-notch like hers, and the food may be a day old, but if you’re game, I’m game.
Oh, and I’m also the one responsible for the technical side of this blog. So, if things are glitchy, you can’t comment or whatnot, that’s all my fault. Feel free to throw tomatoes my way. Ripe tomatoes. Maybe a little salt, some balsamic vin... mmmm.