cooking in color

Sometimes an artist uses beauty to show us a truth about our own humanity. 

I’ve been very inspired by my recent visits to the new Chihuly exhibit in St Petersburg.  Chihuly is a glass sculptor whose work you can see all over the world.  Many of his glass sculptures are displayed in such a way that they are interwoven into nature.

I am most moved by his Niijima Float Boat exhibits.  They are large, wooden rowboats filled with brilliantly-colored glass orbs.  The juxtaposition of these two images can be breathtaking.  Out of something natural (and “ordinary”) there is an explosion of the extraordinary.

Here are some examples of his amazing float boats.

Chihuly Boats

Chihuly views life in a truly unique way.  I love how he can create a world where works of his own imagination intermingle with everyday life.  His art inspires me to think about my own creativity in my cooking.

When I look at Chihuly’s work I think about how art (and inspired cooking) do not exist in a vacuum.  They exist all around us; in our kitchens, in our parks, on the side of buildings, at the neighborhood café (and in our own imagination.)

So I’ve decided to play more in the kitchen… with colors, flavors and presentation.  With taking something as beautiful and natural as a whole snapper, and mixing it with colorful slices of citrus and worn beach glass.

And that’s a truth that Chihuly shows us; that when we are receptive to the world around us, we have the potential to bring creativity (and color) into our lives. 

love-roots pairing

eat- whole roasted snapper and fennel

on a bed of- citrus slices and beach glass

look- at the world through Chihuly’s eyes

be inspired- to see your dinner as art

Whole Roasted “Chihuly” Citrus Snapper

1 ea (1 to 1 ½ #) Whole Snapper, scaled, gutted and cleaned

1 ea Grapefruit, sliced

1 ea Orange, sliced

1 ea Lemon, sliced

1 ea Lemon, halved

1 ea Lime, sliced

a few fennel frond tops

1 large drizzle Olive Oil

1 pinch Red Pepper Flakes

Kosher Salt, to taste

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.  Rinse snapper under running water and pat dry with paper towels.  With a pairing knife slice three vertical 2 in. slits into the side of fish, piercing the skin and going partially into the flesh.  Turn over the fish and repeat. 

Rub down the whole fish, including the cavity with olive oil and season with salt and red pepper flakes.  Stuff the cavity of the fish with a few fennel frond tops and a few slices of lemons.  Stuff a few half slices of lemons into the slits on the top side of the fish. 

Place half of sliced citrus on a roasting pan then place the fish on top.  Place both halves of the lemon, cut side down, on the pan as well.  Roast in the oven uncovered for about 15 to 20 minutes.

Layer the roasted and fresh slices of citrus on a few handfuls of beach glass and carefully top with the snapper.  Garnish the platter with fresh fennel fronds and serve with the roasted lemon halves and some roasted fennel.

a late supper

It’s funny how certain ideas become imprinted in our memories at a young age.  

When I was in 6^th grade I remember riding my bike to the local video store with friends and borrowing Eddie Murphy’s Beverly Hills Cop.  (I have no idea how we were able to rent it at that age.)  We would watch it over and over again, quoting all of our favorite lines. 

In case you forgot how hilarious and quotable this movie is, check out the original 1984 trailer. 

Beverly Hills Cop Trailer 

In one scene Eddie Murphy’s character distracts the cops, who are staking him out in front of his hotel, by sending them a shrimp salad sandwich from the late supper room service menu.  The sandwich is so good, and they are so distracted, that he puts a banana in their car tailpipe. 

It’s a classic scene.

Every time I would watch that scene I wanted that sandwich.  (In the movie you never even see the sandwich!)  But in my mind it must have been the tastiest shrimp salad sandwich in the world. 

I was watching an Eddie Murphy biography on tv the other day.  I immediately wanted to watch all of his classic 80’s movies again… and I wanted to eat a shrimp salad sandwich.

I love how eating that sandwich takes me back.

To being that age.  To feeling like a rebel because I was watching Eddie Murphy’s movies.  To being amazed at the idea of a fancy hotel server delivering a late supper to a car across the street.  To thinking a shrimp salad sandwich was the ultimate luxury in life.

There’s a quote I love by Einstein that that says “There are two ways to live your life - one is as though nothing is a miracle, the other is as though everything is a miracle.”

Sometimes it’s easy to forget that we can easily experience the ultimate luxuries in life (if we would just look at the world through our own inner-child’s eye.)  It might even be in something as simple as a sandwich.

love-roots pairing

eat- a shrimp salad sandwich

curl up- in bed for a late supper

drink- sparkling water with a “lemon twist”

watch- beverly hills cop

get ready- to laugh

Distracting Shrimp Salad Sandwiches

Shrimp Salad

½ # Shrimp, cooked and deveined

½ ea Small Red Onion, thin sliced

3 stalks Green Red Onion, sliced thin on a bias

2 or 3 sprigs Dill, chopped

1 ea Lemon, zest

½ ea Lemon, juice

3 tbs Mayonnaise

1 sm dash Red Wine Vinegar

1 drizzle Olive Oil

1 pinch Red Pepper flakes

1 tiny pinch Sugar

Salt and Pepper to taste

2 ea Large Buttery Croissants

½ Avocado, sliced

Combine all ingredients for the shrimp salad in a bowl and mix.  Taste and adjust for flavor.  (If it’s too thick add a bit more red wine vinegar, if it’s too thin add a bit more mayo.)  Slice the croissants in half lengthwise to make the sandwiches.  On the bottom of the croissants put a layer of the sliced avocado.  Pile half of the shrimp salad on top of each croissant, leaving some in the bowl if it gets too high.  Top with the other half of the croissant, turn on a movie and enjoy.

burnt kabob

Because this week has been a little crazy (with a 24-hour chef’s event I’m doing at work) I thought I’d share a poem I’ve been inspired by.

Burnt Kabob

Last year, I admired wines.  This,

I’m wandering inside the red world.

Last year, I gazed at the fire.

This year I’m burnt kabob.

Thirst drove me down to the water

where I drank the moon’s reflection.

Now I am a lion staring up totally

lost in love with the thing itself.

Don’t ask questions about longing.

Look in my face.

Soul drunk, body ruined, these two

sit helpless in a wrecked wagon.

Neither knows how to fix it.

And my heart, I’d say it was more

like a donkey sunk in a mudhole,

struggling and miring deeper.

But listen to me: for one moment,

quit being sad.  Hear blessings

dropping their blossoms

around you.  God.

                          -       Rumi

I’ve been reading a collection of Rumi’s poems for sometime now.  Every once in a while I find myself picking it up and reading a few pages. 

 

I’m always in awe of the raw yet graceful tone of Rumi’s poems.  While he is often labeled as a romantic poet, I feel that he’s more of a mystic, celebrating the wonderment of everyday moments. 

One of his poems, Burnt Kabob, has really stuck in my mind.  I think it’s the idea of wandering in a red world, getting burnt by a fire and drinking from the moon’s reflection that lingers with me.

I love the ardor of those images.  The inexplicable rush one gets from taking a chance and committing wholly to an idea, belief or dream.

The idea of the burnt kabob is freeing really.  In order to follow our passions we have to let go of the fear of getting burnt. 

I want to cook more like that.

 

I want to live more like that.

But what is the “thing” that the courageous lion is staring up at, lost in love with?  I guess that is the question everyone has to ask themselves.  (Maybe the “thing” is different for each of us?)  Where does one find their own passion, spirituality and transcendence? 

Is it the act of doing, the journey of through the mud itself, that allows us to hear the dropping of the blossoms? 
(Have a lovely rest of the week.)

love-roots pairing

eat- char-grilled kabobs

over- a bowl of herbed couscous

drink- red wine until you wander inside a red world

read- a Rumi poem (or any poem that fills you with passion)

“Burnt” Rumi Kabobs

1 ½# Sirloin Steak, Lamb or Chicken, cubed

1 ea Red Onion, cubed

5 or 6 ea Skewers, soaked in water

Marinade

6 cloves Garlic, minced

1 sm handful Oregano, chopped

1 ea Lemon, juice and zest

1 sm drizzle Honey

2 tbs Greek Yogurt

1 lrg drizzle Olive Oil

1 pinch each Cayenne, Cumin, Red Pepper Flakes or to taste

Salt and Pepper to taste

Add all ingredients for the marinade in a shallow bowl.  Taste the marinade for spiciness and seasoning.  (Add more spices, honey, and salt until you like the flavor.)  Add the cubed meat of your choice.  Cover and let marinade in the fridge for at least 30 minutes.  Assemble skewers by alternating the meat and red onions.  Cook on an outdoor grill for about 2 minutes a side, depending on the type of meat.  Serve over some herbed couscous with a tasty red wine.