Food Matters

I am a total foodie. And I love all those foodie shows.

"Destiny . . . Destiny . . . no escaping, that's for ME!!" (Ms. Lakshmi! Gordon Ramsey!! Top Chef! Iron Chef! That's for ME!!)

I gotta cook. And I gotta eat. Last night I made a fine Turkish dish. It was egg on sauteéd spinach. Matter of fact, I think that's what it was called, "Egg on Sauteéd Spinach." I'm sure it's losing something in the translation. But it was delicious. You sauteé (am I putting that accent on the right "e"?)  - or the quotes in the right place for that matter - or those dashes . . . geez, I'm OCD. Where were we? Oh yeah, spinach. You sauteé the spinach in olive oil and onions, throw in feta cheese, salt and pepper it, and steam/cook an egg on top. It's awesome and low calorie. Salivating yet?

When I watch Martha and Emeril, I get appliance envy.

These food shows are responsible for my buying tongs, a garlic press, and a nutmeg grater. (Once-a-year use: pumpkin pie.)

Not to mention the chef clogs. I bought those first. They are SHOES, after all. Hey, I’m not made of stone. Speaking of stone, isn't Curtis Stone a TOTAL DOLLFACE? You gotta love those Aussies. And, when they can cook, why, they're double yummy.

But now I’m becoming a downright diva: “I need a meringue torch and I need it now! Why can I not find a spatula which matches my dishes? I cannot go another moment without an egg separator!!!”


“I buy vintage cookbooks too. It’s really stepping back into a different era. Wow, I didn’t have a clue you could use lard to make macaroni and cheese.”


“I really DO love to cook. You know this because I own tongs . . . and I USE them. And I use the term “lemon zest” in daily conversation:

“Why, this could use a little lemon zest!”

“That wouldn’t have happened if you had added a little lemon zest!”

“I wish we could all be as happy as lemon zest!”

I also know my garnishes rather well. You’ve got your easy things – your lemon twist, your little radish rose-wanna-be’s. And don’t forget your capers.

I’m lovin’ the capers. Capers work hard. They’re like the Oompa Loompas. You may not notice them, but they don’t care. They’re green, modest, camouflaged, really, but they still do their work. They salt it up, honey. They pack a punch. Not like those freeloader garnishes. Paprika. Parsley. Pimiento. (Why are they all “P” words? Pretty pathetic.)

I mean by this, that pimientos are self-centered little additions. They are not contributing. They just sort of shout, “Look at me! Look at me!” Can you tell me what a pimiento event tastes like? I didn’t think so. They’re showy, shallow, and they do NOTHING. They are the Paris Hiltons of the food world. (Another “P” word!) Because I think we all know that the cheese is the one doing all the work in pimiento cheese. But who’s getting first billing? Yeah.”


Teresa’s Deviled Eggs with Capers, or “The Garnish’s Revenge”

1 doz. eggs, boiled

¾ c. mayonnaise or ranch dressing

1 t. Dijon mustard

Salt and pepper

Dill pickle relish to taste

Paprika (oh, well)

Capers to garnish (!), about 36-40 small

Halve eggs. Mash yolks. Add mayonnaise, relish, salt and pepper, and Dijon mustard. Stir together. Spoon into egg halves. Garnish with paprika (oh, well), and three capers per egg! These are delish. The little capers are hard at work for you on this one.

Stay hungry, my friends :-)