Last night I had just a glimpse of what it would be like to have a personal chef and I really liked it. My friend and instructor from Hill’s Kitchen came to our house to cook a belated birthday dinner for us.
My husband had made all the arrangement, but I was in on the menu selection. Our only job was to supply the kitchen and buy the wine. That I could easily handle.
Brock rolled in with two big bags of groceries and a lemon tart already baked. We were also the benefactors of several Hill’s Kitchen classes with tasty leftovers. The rest of the dinner was mostly demonstration with a little participation.
Here’s the final menu:
Three kinds of homemade sausages (chicken, pork, garlic) with homemade pub mustard and blueberry chutney
Grilled rack of lamb with a savory rub and a pomegranate molasses glaze
Baked Brussel sprouts with pralined pecans
Arugula salad with blood oranges and toasted almond slices
Fresh-baked Italian bread
Lemon tart with candied lemon slices
We ate the grilled sausages, drank Prosecco, and watched as Brock made the lamb, Brussel sprouts, root vegetable puree, and salad, all in the space of a little over an hour. We couldn’t find a working meat thermometer, so he simply determined the doneness of the meat by pinching and it was perfectly medium rare.
By the time we sat down to eat, everyone was salivating. And Brock’s tee shirt of the evening “Animals Taste Good” proved to be quite true. (Was I the one who was recently talking about becoming a vegetarian?) Every single dish was cooked to perfection.
It was great to have the company of both of our children and some neighborhood friends to enjoy this feast with us. Jake was on his best behavior, mostly hanging out under the table.
The reminder that I don’t lead a life of luxury came when Brock packed up and went home, leaving us with a kitchen and dining room full of dishes. I felt a little like Cinderella as I rolled up my sleeves to clean up. Fortunately my daughter proved to be an excellent dish washer, only quitting when the hot water was exhausted.
I’ll pull out the leftovers and whip up more humble fare for dinner tonight. But it certainly was fun to see a bonafide chef work in my kitchen and get to eat the fruits (and chops) of his labor!