Kitchen Hell

September 14, 2009

Oh, it’s insanity.

Hell’s Kitchen.

I’m addicted. And then I’m not. There’s only so much of Chef Gordon Ramsay’s TV abuse that I can take.

On the other hand, this season features a chef contestant who gives hysterical, sharp commentary: the very funny Tennille. So I’m back on track with HK.

So addicted I can’t bear to watch commercials. They’re interruptions I can easily avoid by watching each episode on my computer. At After the episode airs.

I can watch any time I like. I can even plop the computer on the counter and watch while I cook. And have.

I love cooking for my husband. The other night I made a red pasta sauce, adding brussels sprouts, Italian sausage, sauteed onions, and, to make a rich, creamy consistency, ricotta cheese. Oh yum! Now, don’t think I ate any of it, because I didn’t. Too many carbs. But I did taste it. And it was good. Really good.

Served it over penne. He loved it.

I would not love cooking for Gordon Ramsay. He’s a hugely talented chef. But arrogant and a bit off his rocker. And really, I don’t understand the pleasure professional chefs get out of cooking for the masses. It seems such a grind, and stressful.

All the chefs on the show seem to alleviate their stress by smoking. I think I read somewhere that even if they didn’t smoke when they got to competition, they did by the time they were half through with the season.

A lot of kitchen injuries on the show this season. I can see how, too. You’ve really got to pay attention in the kitchen, especially when you have a sharp implement in your hand. Plus this crew of contestants aren’t the most coordinated. They’re always slicing off their fingertrips, tripping over something or burning themselves.

It’s a good thing my knifes aren’t very sharp and that I don’t even attempt that rapid chopping they call “knife skills.” If I had, I would’ve cut off parts of my fingers (or bled to death) on several occasions. See that photo? My fingertips would’ve been in that chopped pile. I swear it. Baa–aad knife skills.

M. and I went out to dinner the other night, after I got done teaching. I had a delicious dish that included filet pieces and wild mushrooms, cooked in a rich red wine sauce. When you don’t cook with salt at home, which I do not (why I’d never be a great chef), it’s very noticeable in restaurant meals. I loved my dinner but I was hyperaware of its salt content.

It’s not so hard to make healthy but delicious meals. My trainer calls it “eating clean” and compliments me on it all the time. I usually eat clean, even when I’m not dieting. Carbs are not my friends.

Food. It’s a little bit of a preoccupation right now. But I feel great. Eating fewer carbs leads to quick weight loss and fitting into clothes that have been buried in the back of my closet. That positive reinforcement keeps me going.

I’m not going to make myself crazy in Italy. I’ll limit but still treat myself to pasta and bread a few times. I used to travel with someone who considered vacations an invitation to binge. He felt that the calories just didn’t count. I know they do.

My goal is to maintain in Italy. We leave from Miami on Sunday and land in Genoa on Monday morning Italy time.

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